Chapter 1
"Dumbledora the explora!... Eh?"
It had been a normal day of practicing black magic for Arthur Kirkland. The room was dark, the chalk lines were meticulously drawn on the floor. Normally, whenever he tried to summon a demon from the depths of hell, Ivan would pop his head through the portal and murmur a quick hello. However, something increasingly strange happened this time; it seemed as if nothing had occurred at all.
"What's going-" England stopped, eyes wide as he realized his voice was higher than usual.
A hand flew up to his mouth, in shock, yet paused when instead of the calloused hands of a man who had worked hard in his lifetime, his eyes were greeted with long, soft, slender fingers on a delicate hand. Something tickled the back of his neck, which he soon realized was hair!
Hesitantly, Arthur emerald eyes looked down. His orbs were met with two large breasts, and when he bent over to look more closely, a tiny waist. Arthur ran out of the basement he practiced magic in like a bat out of hell, and slammed the door to the nearest bathroom open with a loud thud. The mirror showed exactly what Arthur had been fearing-he was now a woman. His hair, which had been increasing in length during his entire sprint for the truth, was between his shoulder blades. His eyebrows were uncharacteristically trimmed, and his usual attire was now hanging from his petite frame.
He was now a she.
"Oh my God... my Queen... what have I done? What's happened to me?" Arthur moaned.
Arthur fished out the phone hiding in the pants which were now slung low on his hips, quickly dialing the first number he came across-France.
After a few heart-wrenching rings, Francis picked up.
"Bonjour?"
"France!" England mewled, "Something terrible has happened!"
England's accent rang out loud and clear through the phone, however France was quite shocked at the feminine ring it took with it. "What's wrong, mon cher?"
England blinked before hanging up. There was no way he could tell France that he was now... England slumped against the bathroom door for what seemed like hours. Slowly, he unlocked the door and strode to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Every step, every swing of the hips, pushed the realization into Arthur's body and soul. Tea was boiling in a kettle, with teabags set to the side, in a moment.
"Who will help me? I can't tell Alfred, besides the fact that our relationship has been quite lacking since the Revolution... Matthew doesn't talk to me anymore, I suppose he was tired of being ignored... Antonio is busy with Romano, Ludwig has his hands full with Feliciano..." The only person whom he could realistically rely on was France.
He glanced over the counter at his phone. 12 missed calls... shit. Slowly, his fingers glided over the lettered buttons. One by one, a single sentence was written on the screen.
I need your help.
Before his pride could stop him, Arthur pressed send. Not even five minutes later, Francis burst through Arthur's back door. Arthur had to admit, he looked rather handsome with a panting chest, and flushed cheeks.
"Mon cher?! Are you al-" France froze as his eyes dragged down the length of Arthur's body.
"Hello, Francis."
