((Part 2!

This is kind of a filler chapter, but it is vital so read on.

Hetalia isn't mine~))

Norway observed his ghostly hand, turning it over and over in curiosity. He was intending to flay Denmark alive, but first he had to make sure if anyone else was affected if the Dane did what Norway thought he did.

Norway sighed. 3...2...1...

Cue Finland and Iceland screaming their heads off.

Yep, this is what I thought.

Norway wasn't entirely sure whether or not he could phase through the door, but he assumed not. He cautiously placed a hand on the doorknob.

Nope, he didn't phase. Okay.

Norway threw the door open and (literally) flew down the stairs to the basement door, which seemed to have blown off its hinges. Norway facepalmed and floated down the steps, where soon he was greeted with the sight of a now-ghost Denmark holding his wand in the middle of the ravaged basement.

Awkward silence.

"Darn, you're a ghost," said Norway. His voice was a complete monotone. "I was looking forward to brutally killing you. Pity."

"I can explain!"

"Then do it."

"OK, I had this idea yesterday when we talking about the party. I thought that maybe, to spice things up, I could find something in one of your books that would make ghosts appear! So I came down here last night and tried to work your magic, OK?"

Norway's flat expression didn't change. "Give me the spellbook."

Denmark glanced at it, then glanced at Norway.

Norway's normally-dead eyes were as sharp as knives. "Denmark," he said slowly and clearly, "Give. Me. That. Book. NOW."

Denmark gave him the book, wishing to never hear Norway use such a scary tone again.

Norway snatched it from him and started flipping through it. His eyes scanned each and every word, cold as ice. Denmark gulped.

Then, Norway reached the page that Denmark had been on. As he read the page, Norway's eyes became wider than Denmark had seen them in a century.

When Norway looked up from the book, Denmark immediately backed away. "Denmark. Did you bother to look at the page properly, by any chance?"

Denmark was sure that if he wasn't a ghost right now, he'd be sweating bullets. "Uh...well...I...uh…"

"You didn't," Norway continued. He shoved the book in Denmark's face. "You just happened to miss the words "TRANSFORMATION SPELL" didn't you?"

Denmark looked down at the page, this time reading the upper title completely. And indeed, he had been in such a hurry last night he didn't notice the words "transformation spell" under the main title of the spell.

He looked at Norway's icy expression and smiled nervously. "Ahahaha! You're right! I musta missed that. Haha...ha…"

"I honestly swear, Denmark," said Norway, shaking his head, "One of these days I know I will end up murdering you with your own axe." He closed the book with a SNAP. "Lucky for all of us, I have a better understanding of magic than England."

(Somewhere, about 10,000 miles away, England suddenly felt very annoyed.)

"I know there's a counterspell, I just need to find i—"

"DENMARK!"

The sound of three ghosts banging on the door of the basement echoed throughout the room.

"IF I DON'T GET AN EXPLANATION FOR THIS WEIRDNESS, I CAN AND WILL USE DENMARK'S AXE!"

"Um, Mr. Denmark? Would you mind telling us what's going on?"

"L't us 'n."*

Norway gave Denmark a look.

"OK, I'M COMING IN THERE!" Iceland shouted. "HERE I COME!" Denmark and Norway briefly paused as the sound of wood becoming chopped to mere bits sounded from up the stairs.

Denmark sweatdropped. "He actually does have my axe..."

Iceland, Finland and Sweden descended the stairs, all pale blue or purple-white and slightly see-through. Iceland was furious and was indeed holding Denmark's battle axe, Finland looked plain confused, and Sweden had one of those hard stares that reminded you that he used to be a viking.

Norway gave Denmark a sideways glance. "Next time, you should read the fine print."

"I know, I know."

"Explain," said Iceland shortly. Despite how he apparently decimated the door, he was kind of struggling under the axe's weight.

Denmark hastily told the other Nordics about his stunt the night before and how instead of summoning actual ghosts it made them become ghosts instead. By the time he finished, even Finland had an "are-you-serious" look on his face.

"Of course," said Iceland. "Leave it to you, Denmark."

"Here we are again," said Finland.

"P'thet'c," Sweden deadpanned.**

"OK, look! We can still fix this!" Denmark defended. "Norge has a reversal spell, right?"

"Somewhere," said Norway.

"Which means we shouldn't have to go that long like this, right?" Denmark said. "Actually, now that we're like this, I wonder if we can do cool stuff?"

"Well, we can't die, that's one," said Iceland, slightly tired of holding the axe.

"Norway?"

"I'm thinking," said Norway, "I would rather that we don't fool around, but lessee...with the type of ghost we are, we can vanish and turn invisible, possess objects, bend or twist ourselves in any way we like, and we can more or less alter another person's perceptions or vision."

"That's kind of interesting!" Finland said. "Maybe this won't be so bad!"

Denmark grinned as another wondrous idea came to him. "Guys, let's forget the party."

"We're cancelling?" Norway asked.

"Nope," said Denmark, "We're just changing it. To a good old-fashioned haunted house."

((* = "Let us in."

** = "Pathetic."

I hate writing Sweden's accent. Next part is the climax, where the haunted house is set up and spooks begin. Be warned—there might be some OOC during the haunted house scene, because to play up their ghostly role the Nordics try to act scary and crazy (you'll get it.).

Hasta la pasta!))