Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The ride to Hogwarts was rather uneventful.

Alfred spent the majority of it deep in thought, watching as the castle grew in the distance. Before, this whole mission had felt more like a wild dream than anything else, but now the reality of it was starting to sink in. And while he was still ready and willing to go through with it, it didn’t stop the unease he felt curling in his stomach.

Dammit, Alfred avoided magic for a reason.

The kids continued to chatter around him, mostly about that Hagrid guy and why they hadn’t seen him at the platform. Alfred wasn’t too sure what he thought of them, either. To be fair, he hadn’t spent much time with teenagers lately, instead opting for the somewhat more mature (and more fun) young adult crowd. So he was rather out of practice. Whatever. He’d freely admit that; Mattie had fooled him into this anyway.

Ginny had been fun to talk to, at least. Alfred had hardly heard of Quidditch before, much less played it, but the general feeling of it seemed like a combination of football and soccer, so talking about that had passed the time. Everyone else, though, he had yet to be too impressed by. Even the legendary Harry Potter, the “Boy Who Lived” (and wasn’t that a stupid title?), seemed more like a lanky teenage boy than anyone who had taken down a magical fascist. 

To be fair, Harry Potter had been, like, one at the time. Maybe he was being too harsh.

Speaking of, the carriage was slowing down. Alfred let the kids get out first, tugging at his robes again (scratchy and stiff, they reminded him of suits). Mattie elbowed him, and Alfred rolled his eyes but lowered his hands, letting them get swept along with the student body. They let Harry and the other kids go ahead of them, staying closer to the back. 

Mattie tugged on his elbow once they were in the front doors, massive things that rose to at least three times Alfred’s height. Why was Hogwarts a castle again? This was just ridiculous.

“There’s Professor McGonagall,” his brother whispered to him pointing, and sure enough, there was a lady watching the procession of students go by. She was tall and thin, with eyes sharp like a hawk. Alfred watched her warily as she approached. 

“You’re the Williams brothers, yes?” She asked once they were close enough. Mattie nodded. “Good. You’re the last of the foreign exchange students. Follow me.”

She turned around and started off, and Alfred noticed that there were two other students hovering nearby. One looked to be a southeast Asian boy, the other a girl from… Romania, maybe? Or Hungary. Somewhere in the area; Alfred had never been very good with southeast Europe. They didn’t speak to each other, but Mattie and the girl exchanged pleasant nods as they followed after Professor McGonagall. 

“I’m sorry if I’m rather brisk with you tonight, but we are running a little behind schedule,” McGonagall was saying, and Alfred turned his attention to her when Mattie elbowed him again. “As explained in your letters, you will be sorted into your houses after the first years, but after that, you’re free to act as any other fifth year student. I know it can be an adjustment, so if you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to go to your house prefects, or to me if the issue is pressing enough.”

They nodded, but Alfred watched McGonagall closer this time, interest piqued. His first instinct was just to write her off as stiff and unsympathetic, but on closer inspection that didn’t really seem to be the case. Her shoulders were tense, pulled almost halfway up her neck, her stride slightly above that of a walk, and she didn’t look at them, eyes trained on the path ahead, thinking.

This McGonagall was stressed. About the start of the school year? Maybe. Alfred didn’t know her well enough to say for sure, but he had a feeling something was going on behind the scenes that was taking up most of her concentration. Something to do with the magical fascists? Considering she was a schoolteacher, he’d wager a good guess on that.

After a few moments, they emerged from the side corridor to meet a large mass of eleven-year-olds. Alfred couldn’t help but wince a little at the sight of them. Teenagers were one thing, but preteens? Ew.

“Oh, stop it, you big baby,” Mattie whispered at him as the doors opened. Alfred rolled his eyes as the chattering of the first years silenced almost immediately. They let the kids go first, then filtered out near the back. 

The Great Hall was majestic; Alfred had to admit that he gawked a little at the sight. Floating candles hovered underneath an enchanted ceiling made to look like the sky, starkly dark against the light. Four great tables stretched the length of the room; from the separate colors on each one, Alfred figured they were for each of the houses. At the front of the Hall sat the faculty, and just in front of them, a stool with a pointed hat on top.

The Sorting Hat, Matthew had called it. Alfred wrinkled his nose a little. Couldn’t they have made it look a little less stereotypical?

“A little over the top, isn’t it?” said the Eastern European girl. Alfred nodded as Mattie snorted. At least someone was sharing the same sentiments as him.

Before he could reply, though, a hush fell over the Hall, and Alfred turned his attention back to the front to see everyone’s attention was on the hat. After a few moments, a rip opened along the brim, and…

It sang.

Ew, Alfred thought, but listened anyway in a sort of morbid fascination.

The song was… interesting. Alfred learned more about the school’s history, at least, as the hat sang about its four founders and how they’d been torn apart by discourse. Yada, yada, unite now as we face outside threats, yada yada, don’t repeat the past, etc etc. By the time it was done, Alfred’s attention was firmly on the logistics of floating candles and where their wax went, and so he jolted a little when he heard McGonagall call out “Abercrombie, Euan!”

Despite himself, when a trembling little boy stepped out of the crowd and sat on the stool, Alfred watched intently as the professor sat the hat on the boy’s head. It almost went down to the kid’s chin, stopped only by his ears, and the crowd sat in silence until the hat shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” 

The table decorated in red and gold burst into applause, and once the hat was taken off, the little boy darted over to the table and sat down, looking very much like he wanted to melt into the wood. 

Daring, brave Gryffindor, huh? Alfred thought, watching him. As he scanned the table, he caught sight of Ginny sitting with some kids he didn’t recognize. She waved at him, and he gave a little wave in response as McGonagall called out “Alabaster, Jayden!”

Alabaster, Jayden was promptly sorted into Ravenclaw, the hat shouting off the house when it was just brushing the kid’s head. This time, it was the table in blue and silver that cheered.

The sorting went on, and the novelty quickly wore off. Alfred found his mind wandering back to the quandary of the floating candles as they waited. Sometimes the hat shouted off the chosen house immediately, other times it took up to half a minute. What was it even doing? Mattie hadn’t been too clear on the details of the Sorting Hat, and Alfred found his mind torn between the Hat and the candles by the time “Zeller, Rose,” was sorted into Hufflepuff, the yellow and black table.

“And now, for our exchange students,” McGonagall announced. She set down the large piece of paper she’d been using for the first years, and switched to a much smaller slip. “From Hungary, Elischer, Lucy!”

The Eastern European girl that had spoken earlier stepped forwards. If she was nervous, she didn’t show it, and sat primly on the stool until the hat shouted “RAVENCLAW!”

Lucy walked off, and the other boy, “From Thailand, Muoy, Kasem!” went next, also going to Ravenclaw. 

“From the United States of America, Williams, Alfred!”

He still couldn’t believe he’d let Mattie get away with making his last name Williams. He stepped forwards, and feeling a little bit foolish, let McGonagall set the hat on his head. It fit better than it did on the first years, sitting snug across his forehead.

Well, I was made to sit on an adult’s head, you know. 

Alfred jerked a little bit, glancing around, but no one had spoken aloud.

In your head, my friend! Now, close your eyes, this is going to be a tricky one. Canada’s brother, I see… I always hoped you and I would be able to speak. Nations are such a pleasant challenge to Sort.

A telepathic hat. Of course the hat was telepathic, why would it stop at speaking?

Now that’s a little rude. I can do many things, you know. Now, I must decide what house to put you in. Smart as a whip, you are, yet not in the manner that thrives in Ravenclaw, not at all. As for Hufflepuff… certainly not! Patience and long-suffering do not suit you in the slightest. No, you mustn’t go to either of those houses.

Mattie says I need to go to Gryffindor, Alfred thought, feeling silly that he was thinking to a hat. I’m here to stop a magic fascist, not for school.

Ah, I understand. Voldemort’s return, yes… you and your brother’s help will be greatly appreciated. Yet I hesitate to put you in Gryffindor. Brave and bold describes you well, yet that doesn’t define you, does it?

What? Alfred thought. If the Hat could laugh, he felt like it would have.

400 years old, and yet you still have much to learn! Hogwarts is more than a school, and there is much for you to do and discover beyond your stated goals. Ambition, pride, persistence… no, your true home is in—

“SLYTHERIN!”

The last word came shouted out loud, and after thinking in relative silence, the volume had Alfred wincing. He blinked open his eyes, having not even noticed closing them, and stood up, passing the hat back to McGonagall. She nodded at him, then flicked her eyes over to the table draped in green and silver, which was clapping for him halfheartedly. 

Oh, boy. Mattie wasn’t going to be happy about this one. Alfred glanced behind him as he walked over to the Slytherin table, and sure enough, his brother had adopted the look of a pinched lemon. 

I tried! Alfred tried to communicate through his expression, giving his brother a little shrug. Mattie just sighed and rolled his eyes, and Alfred turned back in time to approach the Slytherins. Most of the seats were already taken, so he sat down next to some of the younger kids. Preteens. Ew. At least that Malfoy brat from earlier was sitting on the other end of the table, though Alfred caught him sneering in his direction out of the corner of his eye. No doubt he was still all pissy about their train encounter.

Whatever. Alfred glanced over at the other teenagers, none of whom really caught his interest, then turned to watch as Mattie was called to the stand.

“From Canada, Williams, Matthew!” 

Unlike him, Mattie didn’t flinch at the hat at all, even managing to look a little nostalgic as it sat on his head. Alfred frowned, trying to remember if Mattie had come to Hogwarts before. He had to have, to be so familiar, but Alfred had never thought to ask directly. 

“GRYFFINDOR!” The hat shouted around ten seconds later, and Mattie stood back up as the indicated table burst into applause. He shot a glance over at Alfred as he went, but Alfred just waved a hand for him to continue on. His brother shook his head fondly, but went over without further complaint. Ginny, who had kept a free seat next to her, called for him, and he moved over in her direction. Alfred, who wished he could have continued his debate with her over the viability of seekers in Quidditch, felt faintly jealous.

He turned back to the high table just in time to see an old man with a long white beard take the announcer’s podium. The Hall immediately quieted as he raised his hands, and after a moment Alfred realized that this had to be Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. According to Mattie, he was one of the strongest wizards in the world, and the only one this Voldemort guy was afraid of. 

“To our newcomers,” Dumbledore began, and despite his age his voice carried across the Hall easily. “Welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

The students - mostly from the other houses, Alfred noted - laughed as a large swath of food suddenly appeared before them. He joined the other Slytherins in grabbing some food, piling his plate as high as possible. While Arthur was one of the worst cooks Alfred had ever seen, the Hogwarts staff had clearly not taken after their national personification. This food was delicious.

He was on his way to get more chicken when one of the younger girls spoke up, eyebrows raised.

“Aren’t you eating a little too much?” She asked him, something almost akin to a judgemental sneer in her tone. Alfred just echoed her expression back at her. How old was this kid? Thirteen? Fourteen? Like he cared what she thought.

“I’ll eat as much as I want, thank you,” he said, returning to his meal. The girl sniffed.

“You’re eating like a pig,” she said, flatly, and now heads were turning their way. Alfred rolled his eyes.

“I exercise enough to maintain this marvelous figure—” he gestured down at himself. “So I don’t care what you think. Maybe you should work out more.”

Distantly he heard one of the Slytherin kids snicker, and a fierce, angry blush spread across the girl’s face. Alfred ignored her after that, making an extra point to eat even more than usual just to spite her. 

The rest of the meal passed in silence on his end, the rest of the students choosing to ignore him. Alfred much preferred that. Eventually, the Hall fell silent once more, and he looked up to see that Dumbledore had taken the stand again and was preparing to speak. 

Now was apparently the time for the speech he had referenced at the beginning of the night. Dumbledore gave the appropriate warnings about dangerous forests, as well as complaints from a Mr. Filch about refraining from performing magic in the hallways. He introduced two new staff members, Professors Grubbly-Plank (Alfred resisted laughing at that one) and Umbridge. Then, abruptly, he seemed to be interrupted by a sound Alfred couldn’t hear in his position near the back of the Hall.

He found out soon enough when a middle-aged woman, dressed all in pink, replaced the headmaster and started speaking. Judging by the looks the Slytherins were giving each other, this was unusual.

And her speech wasn’t even good. Alfred realized quite quickly that this woman had some kind of background in government and politics, because she certainly knew how to filibuster. Alfred tuned her out less than a minute in and returned to snagging a few more cookies for dessert. When he glanced over at the other students, hardly any of them seemed to be paying any attention either, though that Hermione girl and Mattie were still hanging on. 

Maybe I should listen, Alfred thought. Politicians hide nuggets of important news in filibusters like this all the time.

But he couldn’t find the energy to. Mattie would tell him if there was anything he needed to know, and Alfred was still a little too peeved at being placed with the snakes to care. Mattie had tricked him into coming here, and they hadn’t even ended up in the same House!

Eventually the droning came to an end, and Dumbledore rescued them all by releasing them to their dormitories for the night. Alfred stood up with the rest, but as the Slytherins brushed past him, he moved in the opposite direction, where Mattie’s mop of blond hair stood slightly taller than the rest of the students around them. 

“You can’t blame me for this one,” he said before his twin could get a word out, wagging a finger at him. Mattie just rolled his eyes, pressing close against him as they left the Hall. “I told the darn hat to put me in Gryffindor!”

“I know, I know,” Mattie shook his head, keeping his voice to a hushed whisper that was quickly lost in the chatter of the exiting students. “It’s my fault; I forgot how the Hat can get for your first sorting. If it thought you were a Slytherin, it was going to put you there.”

“I can’t believe I got put in the evil house,” Alfred groaned, and this time his brother elbowed him.

“You’re being overdramatic. Slytherin… well, it wasn’t always this bad. When I went to Hogwarts the first time, they were perfectly fine fellows. I had several good friends from that house.”

“When did you go to Hogwarts? I never asked.”

“1821, I was a Hufflepuff,” Mattie brushed past his question, eyes flickering. “I suppose we can make good use of this, though. The reason Slytherin is so bad right now is because a bunch of them are the kids of former Death Eaters, You-Know-Who’s followers. You can keep a good eye on them if you’re in Slytherin. Maybe see if you can figure out what their parents are up to.”

“And you’ll get to hang out with the good guys.”

Mattie gave him a look. “They’re teenagers, Al. Cut them some slack and try not to blow our cover.”

“If they call me a slur I will hit them.”

They stopped near the end of the main entranceway, and Mattie let out a breath that was close enough to a chuckle that Alfred counted it as a victory. 

“Just don’t break their necks, keep your ears open, and pay attention in class. I know you. If you don’t pass your tests, Dumbledore won’t let you stay here, and I’d like to have you at my side.”

“Aw, love you too.”

Mattie smiled at him. “We’ve got this. Now get going, we have a big day tomorrow.”

Alfred nodded, turned around, paused, then promptly repeated the motion so that he was facing his brother again. “So I have no idea where the dorm is.”

“And that Malfoy boy certainly won’t show you,” Mattie agreed. He pointed to a small, nondescript door that a few Slytherins were slipping into near the end of the hall. “Go down the staircase behind that door and follow the hallway until you hit the dungeon door. The common room is password protected, but if you wait long enough you can slip in behind the other students.”

“If you don’t see me at breakfast I’ve been brutally murdered in my sleep,” Alfred declared as he strode off in the given direction, and this time he did draw a laugh out of his brother.

It took him a few minutes to figure out where to go, since there were no dungeon-looking doors at the bottom of the staircase. Eventually another pack of Slytherins made their way down, and though they gave him several dirty looks, they also didn’t chase him away when one of the younger girls gave the password Solus Ambulo to reveal the entrance from a patch of bare wall. 

On the other side was a large lounge, chilly with cold lights strung up along the walls. Most of the Slytherins seemed to have already arrived, and none of them paid him any attention as he walked along the outskirts, trying to get a feel for the area. 

Teenagers. Alfred’s patience was already being tried, but he pushed it aside as he tried to figure out what he was working with. The kids were mostly bunched into small groups no larger than half a dozen—cliques, that checked out—that didn’t interact with each other. Alfred wondered which ones were the kids of the Death Eaters Matt had told him about. He needed his brother to write him a list to cross-check, he could never remember so many names at once.  I wouldn’t be surprised if Malfoy is, but it’s bad form to automatically assume a parent’s personality based on their teenage son’s. Still…

“Your room is down there, fifth on the right.”

Alfred jerked out of his thoughts just in time to see the girl who had given the password to the dorm brush past him, faintly gesturing towards the rightmost of two grand doors near the back of the lounge. She didn’t wait for him to reply, already rejoining her group of whispering girls.

“At least there’s some decency here,” Alfred muttered to himself, and decided that he might as well get there early, before Malfoy or any of his cronies thought to go through his luggage. Alfred had figured out how to set some booby traps on his portable gun safe and potion supplies during his week-long review, but he still didn’t want to risk anyone getting near them before he had a chance to return.

The passageway behind the rightmost door was dim, and somehow damp-feeling despite not having any leaks Alfred could see. It was a longer walk than he expected to get to the fifth door on the right, but thankfully the room was nearly empty when he entered, save for a stringy-looking boy who was busy unpacking in the far corner. 

Besides that, only two other beds had been picked, which gave Alfred the chance to claim one of the best ones left over, a four poster bed with black and emerald green bedding that sat next to the dorm’s singular window. His luggage had been deposited near the entrance, and Alfred took his trunk and slid it under the bed with the resolve to unpack later. After a moment’s thought, he took out his wand and tried one of the protective spells Mattie had taught him back at Diagon Alley. Two tries later and the latch was shimmering a faint purple. Anyone who tried to open it except Alfred would get some nasty welts on their fingers.

His work done, Alfred checked the wardrobe supplied. The singular robe he had brought was a plain black, but Mattie had said that Hogwarts would provide all their House-specific uniforms since they were only sorted after arriving at the castle. That, at least, still held up, though Alfred wrinkled his nose at the assorted greens and silvers that adorned the various robes, scarves, and ties. 

The door opened behind him just as finished dressing for bed, and Alfred turned to see Malfoy and those two other boys from the train enter the room, laughing among each other. Malfoy sneered haughtily when he saw Alfred, and this time Alfred forced himself to look away. I’m living with this kid for a whole school year, I’m better off ignoring him than killing him.

“So the Yankee thinks he’s one of us, does he?” Malfoy was saying as Alfred flopped down onto the bed, wishing that he had thought to bring his set of The Chronicles of Narnia here; he could do with some real magic to entertain himself with. When he didn’t reply, the boy snorted. “Doesn’t even have anything good to say. I say it’s for the best with that accent of his.”

“I thought the Slytherins were supposed to be clever,” Alfred droned. “At least try to insult me with something I haven’t heard a hundred times before.” 

Malfoy made an affronted sound, though Alfred didn’t bother to look at him to make sure. He laid down on his bed instead. If he can’t get a rise out of me, he’ll ignore me eventually. It was a tactic he knew well—mostly from other nations using it to get him to stop annoying them, which he conceded the irony of. Arthur was going to have a field day once he found out Alfred was letting this kid try to bully him.

“I’ll remind you that I’m your House prefect,” Malfoy retorted. “If you want to survive here, you’ll want to be on my good side.”

Fat chance. Alfred sat up, closed the curtains around his bed, and pretended that he was going to sleep. The boy who had been in the room first said something he couldn’t quite catch, and after that the rest of the kids left him alone.

But sleep didn’t come quickly. Alfred spent a long while staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring with thought. He and Mattie were ostensibly here to kill fascists led by the Dark Wizard Voldemort, but since Voldemort was in hiding they were needing to take an awfully roundabout way to get to him. Mattie had a point, Alfred supposed; getting in good with the Death Eater’s kids would probably be a good idea to do that, but if so Alfred was not the man for that job. Now that the Cold War was over, he’d hoped to put all this plotting and betrayal behind him. 

Slytherin, really? Alfred decided that this Sorting Hat had no idea what it was talking about. It was just in league with Matt to make his life as difficult as possible, that’s what it was doing. Well, the joke was on them. He was the United States of America, the most powerful nation in the world, on a mission to kill fascists and he wasn’t about to let a group of teenagers get under his skin.

Yeah.

Totally.