A/N I wrote this after a math test yesterday.

Prussia was devastated by the news of his little brother's 'death' on the battlefield; of course, anyone would be, really, but it was more than that. He let little Holy Rome down, and he knew as much. He should've stopped them from dragging the child to war, should've convinced them it wasn't a good idea.

He shouldn't have let them take his baby brother.

The albino sat at Austria's piano and played. If anyone who did not know the loud-mouthed, reckless nation had seen him playing such a sophisticated, elegant instrument, their eyes would have surely popped out of their skull, but as it were, only a stingy pianist stood in the doorframe, staring at the teenager.

Prussia played Mozart, Holy Roman Empire's favorite. After all, the man did originate in the child's country. When he ran out of Mozart, he simply played. He didn't know what he was playing, he just knew that his fingers were smashing the keys angrily and sound was coming forth.

Tears leaked from his eyes and his breath caught in his throat.

"I'm sorry," he choked, "I let you down, Bruder."

"Hey, Vest!" a silver haired, obnoxious nation called to his younger brother.

"Vhat do you vant, bruder?"

Prussia smiled, "Vanted to see if du vanted to get a beer!"

Germany sighed, but also smiled and nodded.
The blonde nation always wondered why his older brother couldn't simply refer to him as Germany, or Deutschland. He figured it was just some stupid quirk of the stupid man. Unknown to him, the reasoning went much deeper than that. He would never call his younger brother Germany because to him, he would always be "The Holy Roman Empire".

Tut mir leid ich enttauschen.

A/N So yeah, this kind of follows the theory that Germany is HRE, if you dislike the theory, then you can just say that the reason Germany will "always be The Holy Roman Empire" is because he reminds him of HRE or something.
Also, my headcanon is that Prussia was a teenager when HRE fell.