You know when you read a story and you get inspired to write something yourself based on it? Yeah, that's what's happening right now. Unfortunately, it's something that happens a lot so if I suddenly start up a new story, don't be surprised. It's how I work and it's probably how some of my earlier workings never get done... *sigh*...

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I do, however, own the OC Philippines making an appearance.

England, what the hell did you do?

"Ugh... what happened?" The United States of America, couldn't recall much other than opening the door that lead to England's basement and then being blown backwards by some incredibly strong force. Anything beyond that was fuzzy and unclear.

"You're awake!" He heard someone chirp. A lightly tanned face appeared within his visual field right above his face and he realized that he was lying down on his back.

It was Philia, the female half personification of the Philippines. She must have been cleaning England's house, which would probably explain her presence in the room right now. Philia's chocolate brown eyes displayed relief and concern as the blond haired man sat up.

"Where are my glasses?" Alfred realized that the state of Texas wasn't in its usual place.

"Oh, here they are!" The Filipina handed over the glasses, which she had been keeping safe for him until he woke up.

"Thanks Lia!" He immediately fitted the state over his blue eyes before looking around.

He was in England's living room, lying on the floor. Which brought up another question; just how in the world did he get into the living room? He stared at Philia who was staring back with a clueless expression on her face.

The small nation couldn't have hauled him to the living room by herself, could she? With her delicate looking limbs and small stature, there was no way she could have!

"I don't remember being in the living room." America stated.

"Oh, that's because I brought you here!" She smiled. "I had some help since, um, you're kinda big." The archipelago hoped that the American wouldn't take offense to that comment. She knew just how sensitive he was about his weight. No matter how many times she, England or Japan explained it to him, Alfred didn't seem to realize that his weight gain was due to his increasing muscle mass.

What Philia failed to mention was that the 'help' had been from England's fairy and unicorn friends. Like the Briton, she could see faeries, unicorns, and all of his other 'imaginary friends'. The only other nation who shared their sight was Norway and he happened to have a Troll who followed him practically everywhere. The only reason she hadn't been teased for her ability to see these fantasy creatures was because she was smart enough to not bring attention to herself whenever the topic was brought up.

"Huh, that explains things then." This made America feel a lot better. Even if she was extremely nice and would never think of teasing the hero about being carried by a girl who was much smaller than him, it was still pretty embarrassing.

Realizing that Philia was staring at him with an intense gaze, the American started feeling a little uncomfortable. Was there something on his face?

"Lia?" America said after at least five minutes had elapsed. Her stare was really beginning to creep him out.

"Yes?" She asked, her facial expression remaining impassive.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Star-oh!" Philia cut herself off when she realized that she had been staring at him... for over five minutes. "I'm sorry... it's just that..." She frowned, tilting her head to the side as she tried to find the right words to explain what she found strange. "You look... different."

"Huh?" He didn't get it.

Philia frowned and she stood up, gesturing for him to do the same. As the American followed her, he realized that the small girl was wearing a black dress with a white apron over the skirt part. Her outfit was accompanied by socks that were pulled up higher than her knees and shiny black shoes.

She was wearing a maid outfit.

This made America frown; Philia wasn't a maid. She was a hard working nation who did a few jobs here and there to improve her economy. Besides, it was bad enough that Hong Kong referred to her as such... then again, England had helped bring him up when he was younger.

Though she did look nice in it, kinda like one of Japan's maid cosplay costumes. He should ask if he could take a picture of her later though knowing her, she wouldn't mind.

"I think it's better if you see for yourself." Philia stopped just outside a room which America recognized as the first floor washroom and opened the door.

Flicking on the lights, he went to the mirror to try and see what she was talking about.

Leaning forward, America gazed carefully at his reflection. He was about to ask Philia again what she meant by his looking different when he noticed that he was... shorter? It wasn't by that much, but it seemed as if he was lacking a few inches in height. Taking an even closer look, he was starting to notice that something about him was off. For one thing, his facial features weren't so sharp any more.

For a moment, he panicked that he had gained weight again and pinched his cheeks. But it wasn't so much as he gained weight rather than they weren't as developed. In fact, he looked like he was sixteen again, even though his teenage years had been pretty short lived on the whole account of nations having weird aging processes.

...

"Um... Lia?" America turned nervously towards the door.

The Filipina peered from the doorway at him. "Yes America?"

He gulped. He hoped he was wrong about his theory. He really hoped he was wrong.

"Do I..." He gulped again. "Do I... look younger?"

Philia's head was tilted again as she stared blankly at him for a few seconds before her eyes lit up and she broke out into a smile. "That's it!" She pounded a fist into the flat of her hand. "You look younger than you normally do!"

There was silence in which America just stared at the oblivious, smiling girl who hadn't quite grasp the situation yet. The smile slipped off Philia's face as she realized that America didn't seem as happy about the revelation she was.

"M-maybe England has something to do with it?" She suggested. Someone suddenly reverting back to their teen years could only be logically explained through magic and the only person who practiced magic which usually ended up in things screwing over was England.

"Yeah." America nodded, a grim look on his face. "Let's go talk to England about this. He'll probably know what's going on."

XXXX

His head pounded in a way that was similar to that of a hangover. With a grimace, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland dubbed as England by all of the other countries, forced himself to open his eyes, revealing green orbs that stared up at the whiteness of what was his ceiling. Rolling on to his side, England forced himself to walk in the direction of the bathroom of his bedroom, nearly tripping on the hem of his trousers, where he stumbled towards the toilet and threw up the contents of his breakfast and lunch.

Which was funny since he could not recall ever going to a bar and drinking. What he did remember was preparing a ritual to curse the idiotic 'nation of love' that was France when America decided to barge into the room just when he was about to complete the spell. The last thing he remembered after that was a blue flash that was so bright it practically blinded him and then being sent flying by the force of the berserk, incomplete spell.

Speaking of the git, how the hell did he keep barging in at the most inconvenient of moments? Then again, he was America himself and Americans were known for doing or sticking their noses into things at the most random and unexpected times.

After he was finished emptying his stomach, he fell back onto the wall opposite of the toilet with his eyes clenched shut. He felt a little better, but his head still hurt.

"England, you're okay!" A familiar high pitched voice said, coming from in front of him.

England opened his eyes and saw the green winged form of Flying Mint Bunny. His friend for the most part looked happy to see him.

"Yes, I am. Should there be any reason as to why I'm not?"

"Well..." Flying Mint Bunny began. "Philia came up here, carrying you and saying that your spell went awry again. Of course, the fairies were helping her since she can't exactly carry you by herself."

Philia? As in the female personification of the Philippines?

Of course it could only be her. She was one of the other few nations who could see his 'imaginary friends' and she had come over to his house today to clean it since he was going to be busy cursing that bloody Frog.

England groaned; he had inconvenienced her when she already had the job of cleaning and organizing his residence. He ought to pay her extra for that, but knowing her, she would refuse his offers of being paid extra.

"She did? That was considerate of her."

But then he remembered that there was one aspect of Philia he didn't like; her point of making sure that no one was hiding their injuries from her.

England immediately looked down and to his relief, saw that he was still wearing his cloak. The memory of the one time when he blew up his kitchen and the Filipina had stripped him down to his Union Jack boxers had been humiliating. To add insult to injury, France had decided to come over that day. Even now, the Frog would not shut up about it.

"ENGLAND!" The door to his bedroom had been slammed open and the Briton could have sworn he heard it crack.

That idiot owed him a new door. England would make sure his former colony paid for the damages.

"He's not here! Are you sure you brought him to the right room?"

There was a sigh followed by the person he was talking to saying, "I've been here several times, America. I'm sure I could recognize which room he sleeps in by now."

"Then how come he's not here?"

"That's because I'm in the bathroom you bloody idiot!" England snapped.

There was a pause before the door to his bathroom slammed open.

"There you are!" But instead of the goofy smile that was fixed on his face most of the time, America looked annoyed. Extremely annoyed. He stalked over towards England and picking him up by the collar of his shirt so that they were face to face, glared at him. "What the fuck did you do?" He growled.

Taken aback by the aggressive tone in his friend's voice, England blinked before saying, "W-what the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"What did your spell do to me?" America did not seem amused by the situation at all.

Of course. Since the spell had been incomplete, it backfired on him when the idiot decided to barge into the basement and announce his presence with a loud exclamation.

"Maybe if you hadn't interrupted me, nothing would have happened to you!"

America was about to make a retort when he heard someone else interrupt, "America, put him down!"

It was Philia and she was about as amused as America.

"But Li-"

"PUT. HIM. DOWN." The petite nation's voice was low and flat and the world Superpower reluctantly did as he was told. He saw what happened when the girl reached the limit of her patience and frankly, he didn't want to mess with her dark side. She threw France into a wall for god sakes!

"Erm, yes. What appears to be the problem?" England asked as he straightened himself out. His clothes were a bit ruffled, but that didn't mean he had to look messy.

There was a pause as both America and Philia stared at him.

"What?" He said nervously when it was evident that neither of them were going to say anything.

The two glanced at each other for a moment before resuming their staring.

Was there something on his face? Did he curse himself with fish gills? Why in Davy Jones' Locker were they staring at him like that?

Finally, Philia chose to speak. "England," She began slowly. "You may want to look in the mirror."

What?

Still feeling confused, the Briton did as he was instructed to do and stared at his reflection in his bathroom mirror.

The first thing he noticed was that he was shorter. For some reason, he had shrunk. Another thing was that he looked younger, a reminiscent of the good old pirate days when he was taking out Spain's armada.

"Apparently America's sixteen again."

Oh.

That would explain it.

He was back to being what people called a teenager these days.

England made sure to use every colourful word he had in his vocabulary, starting with cursing the blasted Frog who he had tried to cast the spell on in the first place.

Whoo! And I'm done! This is just the beginning of the story and I'm probably not going to be able to work on it until next week. I have a Term Report to do and trust me, that's much more important than fanfiction (unfortunately).

As for Philia being in a maid outfit, no, I do not think all filipinas who go overseas to work are maids. England's just making her wear the outfit so she doesn't get her own clothes dirty. And Hong Kong thinking of her as being his maid is in reference to a comment made back in 2009 (I think) about the Philippines being a maid country. So yeah, just thought I'd get that out of the way.

Anyways, later on I will be asking for characters (meaning I will be taking OCs). Unfortunately, I'll have to limit the number of people I add since I can only keep up with so much. About ten maybe.

So until then, au revoir and don't forget to review!