Hey everyone! Thanks for clicking on this story and deciding to awesomely read it! This is my first Hetalia story, so I hope I don't do too terrible of a job writing everyone! I previously posted this on DeviantArt, so if you see this there, don't worry. It's mine, all mine, and I wouldn't even think of stealing anyone's work! Anyway, sorry if the summery sucked, I hate condensing work into a few sentances, haha!

Hetalia does not belong in any way to me. If it did, England would be living with me and John from BBC Sherlock and we would all be drinking tea and eating scones and playing with Flying Mint Bunny. So there.

Rated T for mild swearing and gooey cuteness.


The last thing Iceland remembered was that he was invited over to Norway's place. He was led inside, had some tea with his bro—Norway, and then watched some TV together. But sometime during that time, things began to get weird. Norway started staring at him strangely with a small (and very disturbing) smile on his face about halfway through the show they were half-watching, then turned fully toward him and pulled out one of his books. Flipping it to a certain page, he started murmuring words that were neither Norwegian nor human. Iceland should have realized earlier that he was performing magic, but before he could do more than jump off the sofa, a flashing light blasted from where Norway was. He flew back against the table behind him and immediately went unconscious.


That was the last thing he remembered when he woke up, groggy and with a sharp pain running through his back when he took a deep breath.

When Iceland looked around, he saw sunlight streaming through the large windows in the living room. He rubbed the back of his head tentatively, in order to ensure there were no traces of blood. When there wasn't, he blinked his eyes to focus more on his surroundings. He didn't see any trace of Norway. 'He probably doesn't even remember that I was still here,' he thought.

Suddenly, he noticed a shift in movement in the corner of his eye, and flew his head back toward the sofa. Taking a closer look, he saw—what looked like to be—the clothes Norway was wearing the night before, strewn into one large pile on one of the cushions. Despite clothes being known as inanimate objects, the pile was slowly stirring in its place. Hesitantly and shakily, Iceland stood up and stepped closer to the pile of clothes. After rubbing his eyes, it was clear that the clothes were in fact moving. Iceland looked around, then back at the squirming bundle. With a deep breath, he grabbed the clothes and yanked them away. What he saw underneath, he would never believe.

It was a toddler.

Not just any toddler.

It was Norway…

…Norway was a toddler…

Norway looked up at Iceland with large amethyst eyes, quivering his lip at him. He fidgeted his tiny fingers for a moment and then, in a way only toddlers can manage it, he opened his mouth wide and began to wail.

Iceland, meanwhile, was still stuck on the fact that Norway had somehow managed to de-age himself, and it was about a minute into Norway's loud crying that he finally caught up with present time and covered his ears. Cringing, he knelt down next to where Norway was sitting and grabbed a tiny arm gently. "Please, stop the crying!" he tried to reason over the high-pitched noise. "It does not make any of the senses how this happened. I need you to tell me what happened, Norway!"

Norway paused for a moment to stare at him with watery eyes. Iceland looked back, relieved that Nor seemed to understand what he was saying. Slowly, he reached out…

…and grabbed Iceland's nose. Hard.

Iceland made an indignant yelp (which he would insist to the day he stopped being a country that it was a rather manly sound) and pulled back, trying to stop the strong little fingers from reforming the shape of his nose.

Norway giggled.

When he finally detached himself, he glared at the still giggling Norway. He was about to scold him for such behavior, when he felt something brush against his knelt leg and looked down at the floor. Almost hidden underneath the sofa was a corner of an opened book. Iceland furrowed his eyebrows and retrieved the book from under the sofa, examining it. 'It's Norway's spell book,' he thought, and noticed that a certain page was bookmarked. Hoping that it could bring some light on what happened, he scanned over it:

"DR. VAN HAUSER'S DE-AGIFYING SPELL

Want to see someone transform as once they once were before they grew up? Tired of being an adult yourself and want to relax as the child you once were? If either for yourself or for another, Dr. Van Hauser's De-agifying spell is the best spell for your problem.

Iceland sighed and shook his head. A de-aging spell? Really? Iceland had no doubt that the spell was aimed for him, so he could be Norway's cute little bro—…no, he wouldn't say it. He looked up at the little face, which in turn looked back curiously at him. "Were you seriously going to use this spell on me or something, Nor?" Norway didn't respond, but blew raspberries at him. He rolled his eyes and continued reading.

The duration of the spell should last no longer than a few days, with the exception of one day more or less, depending on the strength of the castor's magical capabilities.

He sighed when he read that. Of course Norway was a powerful spell castor. He glanced over to the little nation and smirked. 'Apparently not as careful as he thought, though,' he thought with a bit of wicked amusement. He continued reading the page, but nothing mentioned anything on how to reverse the spell quickly. "What the Hell, isn't there anything to be done?!" He flipped through other pages, but none were any help to him. He snapped the book shut and rubbed his temples. "This isn't happening," he told himself. "I hit my head too hard, so I must be in a different state of the mind." Slowly, he turned to look at Norway, who was staring at him with an eerily calm expression. Sighing, Iceland lifted himself up and put the book down on the coffee table. Looking down at Norway, he said slowly, "I'm going to try and find some clothes for you, Norway. You be a good little boy and stay here, alright?"

Norway stared.

Iceland stared back, then shook his head and went in search for clothes small enough for Norway to wear. "Come on, Nor," he grumbled to himself as he continued to find nothing, "You have to have some clothes of mine when I was younger. What the Hell were you going to do if the spell worked and I turned into a toddler? Leave me naked?!"

Apparently, Norway hadn't though far ahead enough in his plan as to clothes.

When he had searched the entire house, room for room, the only thing he found was a T-shirt that looked to have shrunken in the wash. Still, there were no small clothes suitable for a toddler. He sighed and leaned against the wall dejectedly. Outside help was in order. Iceland took his cellphone from his jeans' pocket, and quickly pressed a number set on speed dial. The other end rung a few times, until it ended mid-ring and a chipper voice echoed on the other side. "Hei?"

"Finland?"

"Oh, hello Iceland!" Finland replied. "What a pleasant surprise getting a call from you! Aren't you visiting Norway right now?"

"Yes, and that's what I'm here to talk to you about. It's Norway."

"Really? Is he OK? Did something happen?"

"He's a child."

Finland laughed. "Oh come now, Iceland! He may have his moments, but I wouldn't call him childish! Demark, on the other hand—"

"No, he's literally a child. A little, tiny toddler that's currently sitting naked on the couch."

"…"

"You still there?"

"…uh…Yes, I'm still here. But…are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Iceland snapped.

"Alright, alright, no need to yell! I was just…I mean…how is this possible?"

"What do you think? Magic." Iceland paused to walk slowly and look into the living room where he left Norway. One of his spirits that he usually summoned to scare Denmark or attempt to persuade Iceland to call him bro—you know what—was floating around him in an almost playful manner, while Norway was bouncing in his seat giggling and clapping his hands. Iceland shook his head and continued in a softer voice so Norway couldn't hear. "Last night, Norway performed a de-ageing spell. I think it was intended for me, but it must have backfired or something, because he became a child."

"And there isn't anything in the book about reversing the spell?"

"No, I've looked through it with no luck."

There was a sigh on the other end, followed by some muffled background noise. "Hold on a minute, please." Finland must have covered the phone with his hand, because he could only hear very muffled voices between two people. 'Must be Sve,' he thought lightly. After a little while, Finland returned on the line. "Alright, I was talking to Sweden about this. Why don't you bring him over, and we can try to find a solution?"

Iceland sighed in relief. "Thank you Fin, we'll be there soon. Oh, by the way…" he quickly added.

"Yes?"

"You wouldn't happen to have some toddler's clothing? I've looked around here, but there's nothing that fits him."

"Um…most of what we have is clothing for Sealand, but I think we might have some. Let me look around first."

"Alright, thanks. Bye."

"Bye."

Iceland flipped his phone closed, then took a deep breath and walked back into the room. The spirit that was playing with Norway disappeared, and said toddler turned around, annoyed. Iceland approached him and popped the oversized shirt over his head. 'Better this that nothing,' he thought to himself. When he finished dressing Norway the best he could with the shirt, he picked up the spell book from the coffee table and stood up. He said clearly, "I'm going to take us to Sweden and Finland's house. You remember them, ja? Good old Berwald and Tino?"

Norway stared, then lifted his little arms in the air. "Up," he said quietly.

Iceland stared back, but sighed and put the book down so he could lift up Norway with both hands. When he did, he held the other at arms' length—how was he supposed to know how to hold a baby?—but hesitantly pulled him in so he was holding Norway closer to his chest. Norway immediately latched onto his shirt's collar with pudgy hands, and rested his head on Iceland's shoulder.

Iceland blushed at the close contact and little bundle of warmth held in his arms. He had never held a young child like this before, nor ever felt what it was like for said child to have such immediate trust in him. It was…somewhat nice. He immediately shook his mind from such thinking; he had more important things to do right now. With the arm that wasn't holding Norway, he grabbed the spell book and headed out the door. He looked down at the little head of soft curls on his shoulders, and for a moment thought that, maybe, it wasn't as annoying with Norway as a child after all.

He changed his mind immediately when Norway started pulling his hair halfway to Finland's place.


Aaaand, there we are! You made it to the end of the first chapter! *cue loud marching band music and applause* Gonna be honest though, I think a baby Norway is the cutest thing ever. And an Iceland trying to take care of him is just as cute! Anywho, thanks for reading chapter 1. I'll try and post chapter 2 in a few days.

Until then, ciao!