It's Called Magic // APH Magic Trio

#1 - Arthur

Warning: I wrote this story when I was very young. The writing isn't at the standard I'd like it to be up until around Chapter Five. Once I finish this story, I will go back and edit these first few chapters until the standard of them are at the level I'd like them to be!

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Notes: Names (In order of age) -- Alistor - Scotland // Dylan - Wales // Shamus - N. Ireland // Patrick - Republic of Ireland // Arthur - England // Peter - Sealand
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"I'm home!" Arthur called as he slammed the door behind him. He was met with a few grunts of acknowledgement and a few curses. With a small sigh, he lugged his heavy schoolbag upstairs and threw it on the floor before unceremoniously flopping onto his bed. Only a few seconds later, a small knock was heard at the door, followed by a whine.
"Artie? Artie! I wanna play! Artie play!" Unlocking his door, Arthur shook his head, "Sorry Peter, I have homework." He said apologetically. Shrugging, the five year old boy nodded, promising to come see his big brother when he finished his homework.
With a relieved sigh, Arthur sat at his desk and pulled out his laptop - an old, secondhand one that he'd been given for Christmas - and logged onto YouTube. Obviously he wasn't doing homework. Oh no. He was going to try his first spell. After finding his favourite channel, he clicked on the brand new video titled "Spells For Beginners #1 - Simple Spells." The fifteen year old couldn't help but smile at the soft, familiar voice coming from the screen.
"Hey guys, it's LukasDoesMagic. How's your day been? I can tell you, mine has been pretty rubbish. I really can't stand some people." He sighed, "Anyway, as you all suggested, this is a tutorial on how to perform magic. I'm going to start of with some small spells first, and we can progress to harder spells. I'm going to be using-" The video was cut to Lukas holding up a large blue book with golden lettering in a language that Arthur couldn't understand, but recognised as Norwegian, because that's where Lukas was from.
"This book is called Hekseri For Begynnerheksen eller Begynnertrollmannen, which translates to Witchcraft For The Beginner Witch Or Wizard." He explained to the camera, "Now, you don't need a spellbook to perform magic, but if you plan on learning additional spells that I don't teach you, or writing your own spells, you should probably acquire one. Just don't plan on destroying the Earth or anything. Please." Lukas warned, cracking the audience a small grin.
"Anyway," Suddenly Lukas' bedroom lights were off, and a candle - the only light source in the room - flickered and gave the Norwegian's face an amber tinge. "Magic is not for the faint hearted, and your room must be dark, lit by only the flames of a candle, so I apologise in advance for the crappy lighting. Now, what you need to do is,"

Arthur followed along, quietly chanting the words under his breath. He grinned as a small green mist twirled around his fingers, before forming into a winged bunny. Arthur was in awe. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, his door, which he'd forgot to lock, was slammed open and the lights flicked on. Arthur jumped and darted to the other end of his room, knocking candle over. He hoped it didn't burn anything. He didn't dare look, though. His shamrock eyes were too busy staring into his father's icy blue ones.
"Oi! What do you think you're doing in the dark? You fucking idiot!" The redhead bellowed, his voice slurred as he ran up to Arthur and pulled his collar up so hard that Arthur's feet dangled in the air, "I'm going out, so you better keep an eye on Peter, there's forty pounds on the mantlepiece so Alistor's gonna get you all something to eat, and you better do as he fucking says! Oh, and if anything happens whilst I'm gone, you're getting slapped! I'm deadly serious, Arthur, you better fucking behave yourself, or else! And keep your fucking lights on, you freaky twat." He hissed. Arthur grimaced when the strong scent of beer and cigarette smoke wafted up his nostrils and burnt his eyes until they watered. He blinked it away fast though. Finally, his dad let go of him, letting him drop to the floor, before storming downstairs. There was a brief few seconds of silence before another screaming fest started, presumably between his father and Allistor. The sounds of glass breaking, punches to the face, and furious yells lasted a mere ten minutes before a door was slammed. Finally, silence. With shaky hands, Arthur reached out at the candle knocked over on the floor. To his surprise, the flame was glowing a bright green, but didn't burn his carpet. The flame then turned into the little winged bunny he'd seen before. It flew over to him, and sat on his lap. Arthur petted it, calming down a bit. He went back on his laptop and revisited LukasDoesMagic's page. He looked on the 'Magical Creatures Care" playlist, and scrolled through it until he found a thumbnail with a winged bunny similar to his, except it was blue. Arthur watched the video and quickly learned that the creature was called a Skvader, a magical creature from Sweden.
"Yep, you figured it out!" A squeaky voice laughed. Arthur looked down at his bunny to see her talking (Which didn't surprise him; most magical creatures could speak), "I'm a Skvader! Who are you? And what's my name gonna be?" The bunny jumped out of Arthur's grasp and hovered in the air besides him.
"Arthur Kirkland. And you will be...Flying Mint Bunny. And maybe Minty for short." He declared. Suddenly, Minty's eyes darted to the door and she hid under the bed.
"Right," Came a familiar Scottish accent, "I'm going to the chippy. What d'ya want?" Alistor opened the door and asked, two twenty pound notes in his hands. Arthur couldn't stop himself grimacing at the new bruise on his older brother's cheek. It seemed like he got a new bruise or cut or graze every day.
"I'll have fish and chips." He answered.
With a nod and a 'M'kay', Alistor left the room.

After half an hour of playing with Minty, Dylan walked in.
"Yes?" Arthur asked with a small sigh, hiding Minty in his schoolbag, pretending to rummage through it.
Frowning, Dylan hissed, "Where's Al?"
"Went to get tea. Isn't he back yet?"
Arthur yelped as a sudden pain burnt his cheek. Dylan had slapped him.
"No! Obviously he's not back, you dickhead! That's why I'm asking!"
Wincing slightly, Arthur asked, "Have you tried phoning him?"
"He's not answering." Dylan huffed.
Fiddling with the zip on his schoolbag, Arthur mumbled, "Do you think he's in trouble?"
There was a pause. When Arthur looked up, beads of tears were forming on Dylan's eyes.
"I bloody hope not." His Welsh brother muttered.

It was nearing midnight. Why hadn't Alistor returned? Dylan, who had decided to stay in Arthur's room, began to cry, burying his head in his hands. Dylan and Alistor were close to each other. Suddenly, the front door was swung open and the smell of salt and vinegar filled the air. After exchanging a brief glance, Dylan and Arthur darted down the stairs, screaming Alistor's name, waking Peter up. However, stood at the door was not Alistor. It was Shamus, holding two bags filled with their food. The Irish boy had tears streaming down his face but still wore a stoic expression. Ignoring the questions from Arthur, Dylan, and even his twin Patrick, he placed everyone's meals on the table. Finally, he spoke up, in a hushed tone,
"Alistor's in hospital."