A Spell Gone Wrong 4
Arthur and Alfred stared at each other. The explosion had caused an avalanche from the remaining books left still standing on their respective shelves. It gave them quite a shock but they managed to snap out of it.
Then Arthur scowled as he remembered Alfred's suggestion. The mere thought of that bloody git handling his wand was utterly repulsive. What if he broke it? They don't make wands like these very often, you know. If anything was to ever happen to that wand then, well, let's just say that Arthur wouldn't be a very happy bunny... or kitty, in this case.
"There is no way that I would let you touch my wand, let alone cast a bloody spell!" Arthur declared.
"But why can't I do it? Come on Artie, there's really no other way to turn you back! But if you think you're such a smart-ass, then why don't you come up with something else?" huffed the American as he pouted childishly.
'So it's a challenge? Ha! I'll gladly accept. This'll be easy.' the Brit thought, smirking deviously.
After about a half hour later Arthur grumbled to himself, racking his brain for something, anything that didn't involve Alfred doing, well, anything at all really. Usually he would've come up with something totally brilliant by now but, this was far more difficult than he expected.
He kept on pacing, clearly not noticing Alfred examining the wand and book intriguingly. He'd got bored of waiting and was feeling rather curious as to how this whole magic business worked.
Alfred flipped the page cautiously; making sure that Arthur was fully distracted enough to not hear or see him, and began to study the spells. There was a rather interesting spell that would cause the victim to have the inability to talk whenever you snapped your fingers. Alfred mentally noted himself to remember that for later, for obvious reasons. Who knows, things like this could come in handy one day. Alfred continued to scan the page before discovering another spell that might help with the current situation.
'This is so cool, I feel just like Harry Potter!' Alfred grinned as he held up the wand and recited the spell. He then aimed the magical tool at the fluffy cat and a small but still bright spark shot out towards him. Alfred squeaked as the small bolt flew out and hit Arthur, causing stars to fly about and a sparkly purple cloud to cover the Brit. The cloud expanded as Arthur started to regain human form.
Alfred grinned."Ha! Take that laws of nature, I just did magic without any help! See Artie, I told you I could do it!" Alfred announced. But he lost his train of thought as he gawped at the sight before him. It was apparent that Arthur had definitely been transformed into a human... But it wasn't Arthur that Alfred saw.
It was a completely different man standing before him. He was around the same height as Arthur and had the same face and marvellous green eyes as him, but his hair was flaming red and he had freckles spread across his cheeks. He wore a rather smart looking white dress shirt, a navy blue blazer with brass buttons and shiny black shoes. But the thing that caught Alfred off guard was the fact that this guy was wearing... a plaid skirt.
"U-um... Artie, is that... you?" Alfred questioned the strange looking being.
"What are you talking about, of course it's... Me?" Arthur was completely gobsmacked when he caught a glimpse of himself in his crystal ball that was, thankfully, still safe on the desk. He shot a dark glare at Alfred. If looks could kill...
"What on Earth did you do to me?" Arthur shrieked.
"Well I t-tried to change you back to... normal." Alfred rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously.
"Then why the bloody hell do I look like my Scottish brother Angus?" The furious Brit-now-turned-Scotsman demanded.
"How the heck should I know?" Alfred retorted.
"You're the one that cast the spell! And I suppose you forgot to read the instructions on how to work it too!" Arthur growled.
"Nu-uh, it said to think of what you want to transform the person or object into before casting! See, I actually read something, so stick that in your pipe and smoke it!" Alfred countered, sticking out his tongue childishly.
"So what exactly did you think of?" Arthur-now-Angus clenched his fists and puffed out his rosy red cheeks.
Alfred smirked. "Hmm let's see, big caterpillar eyebrows, anger management issues and nasty cooking." He stated.
"You bastard, I don't have 'anger issues' and I most certainly do not have nasty cooking! And I'll have you know that my eyebrows look dead sexy, thank you very much!" Arthur huffed. Alfred tried his best to conceal the fits of laughter that was about to erupt. Then he remembered something.
"Wait, you said Angus was your BROTHER, right?" He stated.
"Yes he is... what of it?" Arthur asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes curiously.
"...Why does he wear a skirt?" The American questioned worriedly.
"IT'S A BLOODY KILT YOU GIT! Only real men in Scotland wear these!" Arthur/Angus shouted and crossed his arms over his chest.
Alfred had to wonder, 'Do all Scots dress in drag?'
"Bloody hell, will you just give me the damn wand so I change back into my normal self?" The Brit demanded before making a grab for his wand that Alfred still held. But Alfred reacted quickly and kept it out of Arthur's reach.
Arthur growled and leaped in a desperate attempt to reach his wand, "Give that back!" he yelped.
"No, wait, I think I've got the hang of this now! Let me try again, please?" Alfred wailed as he dashed across the room, Arthur following close behind.
"Just give me the wand now!" The Brit commanded.
Alfred laughed mockingly. "Ha ha, you'll never catch me!" But he seemed to have spoken too soon. Alfred had darted from one end of the room to the other, remarkably dodging the fallen books and scattered magical tools. But due to the fact that he got carried away with his little game, he somehow managed to trip up on an oddly placed book and tumbled down to the ground with Arthur following close behind.
They toppled and slammed into each other as they hit the cold stone floor causing them to miraculously snap the wand and have the tip of it burst with bright sparks and shiny stars. A small beam zapped out and caught on the two men and a loud eruption of what sounded like fireworks on the 4th of July emitted from the halved wand.
A blue cloud of smoke ensued and was wrapping around Alfred and Arthur. Sparks of red and blue and yellow spouted everywhere and it was as though a small thunder storm was taking place inside the cloud casing.
Thunder crackled and lightening crashed, causing the cloud to burst and the two men yelped as they were both thrown across the room to hit the wall and land with a thud. The smoke cloud disappeared and both Alfred and Arthur groaned with pain.
With their heads throbbing and rear ends aching, Arthur and Alfred somehow managed to prop themselves up against the wall for support.
"Yo Artie, are you OK?" Alfred clenched his eyes shut as he hissed in pain. There was a slight pause before Arthur growled and rubbed his sore back.
"I suppose so. I mean you haven't killed me just yet so I guess that's a bit of a bonus."
Alfred grumbled. He turned his head to shoot a glare at Arthur, but it wasn't the Brit that he saw. It was... himself?
He stared in shock as he tried to mumble something along the lines of 'You're me!' but instead it came out as something incoherent. "M-m-me... T-t- there... and you... WHAT?" he screeched.
"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Arthur demanded but gasped as he saw himself gawking back. They both stared, they both gasped and they both screamed at the top of their lungs, "YOU'RE ME!"
