Well here's the rewrite of chapter 1! I ope you like it, even if I might suck. Well it's a lot better than before if I have to say. But no matter! Onward! To the new much better story!

I'm sorry to those who waited for this or hate the rewrite.

Chapter 1

One 'Small' Problem

The sun had made its way through the small openings of the windows curtains, landing themselves onto the small coffee table in-front of a male. A small cup sat quietly as a small amount of steam made its way up from the light brown substance. The blonde from before rose his head from the book he held in his hands. The title of the book written in a strange form of a language. The blonde then reached out for the cup of tea, sipping it's rich liquid he loved so much. He wore a green military uniform, which consists of a green jacket, a brown Sam Browne belt, green pants tucked into his boots, off-white shirt, a tie that's a shade of green that's slightly darker than the rest of his uniform, and brown boots that almost come up to his knees. This was no other than England, the powerful country that represented The United Kingdom. The brit glanced down to his wrist checking the time, Eight Forty-Two.

There was going to be another World Meeting, luckily it was going to be placed here in his beautiful city of London. No need of getting onto a plane and wasting a few hour to go to a meeting at which nothing was going to get done. A small sigh escaped his lips, the meeting was at Ten, so he still had roughly an hour before he had to leave. Letting his mind wondered for a few seconds, as the loud slam of the front door being open pulled him out of it. Thinking it was none other but the foolish America, he pulled his teacup back to his lips. Oh how wrong he was.

The loud footsteps stumbled as they entered the living room, England looked over his shoulder expecting the other blonde, but there in his place stood Scotland, nearly dropping his teacup England stood up folding his arms across his chest as he stared at his older brother. England inwardly cursed, he was getting to relaxed with America around.

The brit quickly got rid of the thought he should be more focused on the task at hand. England's eyes narrowed scanning the Scot. He wore his usual blue military uniform, his auburn hair slightly disheveled, his face a flushed red. My glance then travels to his hands, of course, a brown beer bottle was in his left hand. Not good this wanker was drunk, he always liked to go out and hurt me when ever Scotland had the chance. But England had to question why was he here? Shouldn't he be in his homeland? Those were the only thoughts than ran through England's mind as he suddenly saw Scotland as he lashed out.

The only thing that he could probably was to pull his arms to the right side of his head as the neck of the bottle struck his arm and the end his head. Disoriented, England tried to gain a sense of what the other was going to do next,

"Damn it," England voiced out.

The blood began to make its way down his arm as he noticed that the bottle had shattered by the shear forced of it hitting him, pieces of the glass imbedding themselves into his arm. The other shards on the floor.

"You bastard, and your stupid rule over me!" Scotland yelled, jumping toward the blonde.

"Scotland, stop!" England shrieked.

Quickly the brit grabbed the arms of the other, keeping the other from hitting him. His breath smelled like the usual smoke, and cigar he always like to have England noted. Scotland clenched his mouth, his eyes narrowing even more as he looked down toward his brother.

"Even if you rule over me, doesn't mean squat to me," the red-head growled, pushing down more of his weight on to the shorter male. England realized that the other was slowly gaining the advantage.

The next thing England new he was on the wooded floor of his house, he could feel the pieces of the glass from before making their way into his back. This arms slowly lost his strength against his sibling as they let go of the other's arms.

"You had to grow didn't you? Take me over along with the others! How could you gain so much power? 'The sun never sets on the British Empire,' huh?" He snarled,

"How could you of all people take me over, you're the youngest of all of us! I just don't know how! Ach Moi Pomnuria Fratres du Edoc'silv Eom Sumethin Sem Kan Waise!" Scotland chanted.

England closed his eyes in pain as a strange energy ran through him, he already knew that this was the work the magic. Nothing else could ever hurt him this much. England's world blurred as he passed out.

The blonde blinked slowly as he tried to gather his bearings, his eyes traveled around the room as noticed many of the things were larger than before. England shook his head lightly, a wave of pain shot through him. The memories from before passing quickly as England stumbled to his feet. Green-eyes flashed quickly around the room half expecting to see Scotland somewhere, luckily the red-head wasn't.

A small sigh of relief escaped his lips, England's hand traveled up to the side of his head as he felt a warm, sticky liquid cling to his hand, blood. Thick eye-brows furrowed in confusion. It should had stopped by now. He had to clean it off who knows what might happen.

Picking himself off the ground, England felt the small pieces of glass dig into his hands and feet, he should clean that up after he gets the blood clean. Then he felt his clothes slip to the side, he jerks his head down to glance at the clothes. Was this also his brother's doing? No, it was only possible that Scotland had stumbled out the house and made his way home somehow.

England made his way down the hall, grabbing the door handle of the bathroom that seemed to be slightly closer to his head that it should. His hand fumbled with the switch as they flickered on. In the mirror stood a child no older than nine. Blonde matted hair, bright forest-colored eyes, and blood that trailed his rounded face.

Nothing could describe the feeling that over whelmed England. Who knows how long he was passed out for one, and the other he had some how changed ages, luckily he was able to retain his memories. This was the spell there wasn't anything else it could be.

"I just don't know how! Ach Moi Pomnuria Fratres du Edoc'silv Eom Sumething Sem Kan Waise!"

"Do change my brother the unconquerable to something that can be easily reign…that's what he said bloody hell, stupid Scotland that doesn't mean that the country will change." England mumbled shaking his head the pain somehow now gone.

A huff of anger left him, what is he going to do now.