Witch Hunters

12/24: I wanted to say that I originally wrote this at 3 am and posted it right away without reading through it, and it showed. I've edited and cleaned it up a bit. So, without further ado, I give you the edited version of Witch Hunters, I just hope I got everything:

Okay, this has been bouncing around in my head forever and I wanted to get it down. Thank you to everyone who reads, reviews, faves, and follows, although this is a oneshot, I don't know why you would follow it. Anyway, thank you!

Everyone thinks that the Fentons are nuts. And probably with good reason.

You see, we Fentons are a family of witch hunters.

My parents literally run around looking for witches and wizards. Nobody is really concerned about them though, they're good enough people if you look past the blind hatred and obsessive tendencies.

The entire wizarding community knows about the Fentons and the threat they may pose, but fortunately, the Fentons are terrible at hunting.

Jazz has tried to have them committed on several separate occasions, while I don't really like it, but I'm not about to kill their dream.. Neither of us are planning on continuing the hunting business, or actually believe in the magical world.

We've been a family of witch hunters at least since the first colonization of America, in Salem, Massachusetts. John Fenton-Nightingale was a very successful witch hunter, and is responsible for at least ten deaths. The Fentons are descended from famous witch hunters from the Spanish Inquisition. Our entire bloodline is stained with the blood of hundreds of witches and wizards.

We, however, do know quite a bit about the complexities of wizarding society, except, our parents just see it as a disease or a blemish that must be eradicated. Jazz and I think it's just a bunch of nonsense.

They drilled "facts" into us so that we could have the knowledge to carry on their profession. That isn't actually gonna happen, though. We've both got other plans.

But the thing that my parents taught me that was really worrying me right now, was the fact that some people are just randomly born wizards. It can crop up from anywhere. A perfectly muggle bloodline- a muggle is a person without magic- can all of a sudden have a wizard child.

And I think I am one of those people.

My parents told me that young wizards often showed a display of unintentional magic. I'd never really thought about it before, but I'm pretty sure I levitated the thanksgiving turkey a few times before. My parents blamed it on immature witches and wizards pranking the hunters, thankfully enough.

This suspicion was caused and confirmed by the neat letter I held in my shaking hands. It was only a small letter, fancy looking handwriting on the front with his exact address, and a wax seal on the back.

But the symbol on the wax seal was something that his parents had been talking about since I was born.

A golden roaring lion in the top left corner, a silver snake in the top right corner, a yellow badger in the bottom left corner, and a blue raven in the bottom right corner. At the center, a large letter H.

It was the symbol for a wizarding school somewhere in Europe. I couldn't remember the name exactly, but something to do with pigs sounded about right.

This was either a life changing moment, or a very cruel and well planned out practical joke.

I let out a steady breath and looked back at my family.

They were sitting in the kitchen, my parents talking about the crimes of witches and wizards, while Jazz was doing her best to ignore them and reading a book about psychology.

I considered just walking over to to them and asking them if it was a joke or not.

But what if it was real?

I shook my head and ran up to my room, locking the door.

I sat on my bed, my shaking hands struggling with ripping open the letter neatly.

Finally, I took out the letter within and began to read.

Dear Mr. Fenton,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We realize that yours is a special situation, and protection is offered if you wish it.

The American schools will not accept you because of your heritage. This is dangerous both for you and others. If a witch or wizard goes untrained for an extended period of time, their own magic can turn against them. The witch or wizard usually goes mad, and has an untimely death. Though there are cases of normal living without training, they are few and far between. This is why, Mr. Fenton, that we have chosen to accept you.

Hogwarts is in Scotland, and will be hard for your parents to reach with their pay. Transport will be provided for you by a member of the faculty. They will meet you at your home on August 18th, at approximately 1 pm. The member will also pay for your supplies, and explain the more truthful details of the society of which you are a part of.

You may tell your parents if you wish, but please do not tell them the location of Hogwarts. This letter has been spelled to erase the essential parts after the first read, so do not worry about that.

Term begins 1st September. For your health, your attendance is mandatory. You will not be accepted at any other school, and that may be fatal to you.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva Mcgonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I stared down at the letter in my hands. If this was a prank, it was a very intricate one. Whoever did this had certainly done their homework. A knot twisted itself into my stomach. This seemed very real. They even planned to meet in a week. They would've had to look through centuries' worth of handwritten notes to find even a mention of wizarding schools, and the notes were all in the basement. My parents did tell everyone they could about the magical world, but nothing that deep. Nobody listened that long. The only reason me and Jazz knew about it was because we hear it every Jazz didn't have anywhere near the artistic ability or patience for pranking to do something like this. Plus she would've wanted to see me read it. She would be up here watching.

But that would mean that this was real. And if it was real then I'm muggle-born.

My parents would hunt me.

What if I told them? Would they accept me? Would they just change their wizard hating ways all because their son was one?

Or would they reject me? Would I be killed? My parents had been looking to find the source of a wizard's magic for a while. Would they use me to find it? Would they just kick me out and disown me? Would I still be their son?

Would they still love me?

They're my parents, they'd have to. They are biologically obligated to at least care about me a little. Although, child abuse isn't really- but they've never even hurt anyone before, I mean, sure they've threatened to hunt people before, but those people aren't me. They're not. They're just some random person on the streets.

But if they're willing to slaughter a random person on the streets who hasn't actually done anything, what would they do to me?

I look down at the yellow parchment. My grip is making it crinkle where I'm holding it. A tear streaks down my cheek and lands on my last name, blurring it and making it unrecognizable. That's just cruel irony. Seeing my last name mutate into something black and unidentifiable was the last straw. The dam broke and I sobbed silently into my pillow. Feeling the full ramifications of being a muggle-born for the first time.

My parents might kill me.

I might be homeless.

If I don't get trained, though, I'm probably going to go crazy and die.

My parents would want to know why I'm going to disappear for a whole school year. I can't just lie to them, though. They can always tell and I'm a terrible liar.

I heard a knock on my door.

"Danny?" my Mom's voice rang out from behind it. I stuffed the letter in the envelope and underneath my pillows, wiping my tears away.

"Dinner's ready, sweetie."

"Uh- Okay, Mom. Thanks, I'll be right out."

"Alright." and with that she walked away. I listened to her footsteps fade and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I couldn't help but wonder how long she'd call me sweetie, or how long I could call her Mom because of this.

I wiped my face off and set my shoulders. I can't think about that right now. They have a right to know.

I slid the envelope into my pocket, checking to make sure the letter's content had changed- it had, and set up a duffel bag and tossed some clothes inside. I'd grab food and water and other stuff later, if they let me. I stood up, shoved the letter in my back pocket and walked out of my bedroom, my chest tight with anxiety.

I don't care what happens. I'm being carted off anyway. They're coming to pick me up in a few days and if a fully trained adult wizard can't save me, I don't know who could. I don't think my parents could kill me, they love me too much. They might just kick me out or disown me or something.

Anyway,after I leave, I wouldn't have to come back. I could talk to the school about how I'm going to live without my parents. I'd rather not have to, but I can't just go in there expecting them to be completely okay with this.

The walk to the kitchen was like walking to deathrow. It felt horribly slow, and like I was making my way to my doom. I swear, it was an hour before I finally got to the kitchen. I sat down in my usual seat and picked up my fork. I may as well have a last meal.

I listened intently to my sister prattle on about psychology and my parents only nodded and grunted every now and then to pretend they were listening. I smiled as much as I could at that. I dreaded every minute that ticked by, knowing that by the end of the night, my parents would know, and I could either be homeless, dead, or loved.

Every bite I took felt like it would be the last one. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to keep quiet about it. But I've made my decision. They need to know.

When we finished eating, we all just sat there, watching Dad eat and making small talk. I waited until there was a lull in the conversation and I gulped, took a breath, and tried to quell the raging butterflies in my stomach.

"Uh, guys?" everyone looked over at me intently. Jazz with a look of vague curiosity, and my parents with small smiles on their faces.

"Yes Danny?"

"I- I have s-something I need t-to tell you." my voice shook, and my hands started fidgeting with the tablecloth. I swallowed again and breathed evenly."I got a letter in the mail today, and I t-think you should read it." I bit my lip and slowly slid my hand into my pocket and pulled out the letter. I shakily handed it to Mom, who was looking more concerned and confused by the minute. She looked at the letter and her face dropped into a frown. I could feel tears ready themselves behind my eyes and my heart dropped.

Maybe I should've waited until the wizard was here. Why did I have to do this now?

She opened the envelope and started reading the letter. She put a hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide. My breathing quickened and she shoved the letter into Dad's hands, gripping her face in her own. Jazz stared at me, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth slightly opened in confusion.

Dad read over the letter, his face grim. When he finished he looked up at me with a frown. I barely blinked back tears. Dad slowly handed the letter to Jazz, who read it faster than either of them. She was even more confused when she had finished reading it. She didn't believe in any of this stuff. I always had a sliver of doubt in my mind, but I was fairly certain it was fantasy.

I looked back at Mom, who was now staring at me, an unreadable expression gracing her face.

"Please say something."

"What is there to say, Danny?" Dad said, his voice breaking. Jazz just looked between the two of us.

"Wait, wait wait wait, you actually believe this?" she scoffed.

" The things in that letter are things that are only known by us and the wizarding world. A wizard wouldn't just tempt fate and send us a joke that cruel. And you're too mature to do something like this. It's real." Mom said, her voice growing colder with each word.

"What about the thanksgiving incidents? Weren't those just 'pranks' too? What makes this different?"

"I think we have an explanation for the thanksgiving incidents now." Dad said with a pointed look at me. I away and shrunk in my seat. Jazz passed me back the letter and set it down. Mom frowned at me.

"Read it again." she commanded. I looked back at her and picked up the letter. The spell changed it a little to protect the senders, and probably me.

"Dear Mr. Fenton,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

We realize that yours is a special situation, and protection is offered if you wish it.

The American schools will not accept you because of your heritage. This is dangerous both for you and others. If a witch or wizard goes untrained for an extended period of time, their own magic can turn against them. The witch or wizard usually goes mad, and has an untimely death. Though there are cases of normal living without training, they are few and far between. This is why, Mr. Fenton, that we have chosen to accept you.

Transport will be provided for you by a member of the faculty. The member will also pay for your supplies.

Term begins 1st September. For your health, your attendance is mandatory. You will not be accepted at any other school, and that may be fatal to you.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva Mcgonagall

Deputy Headmistress"

I gulped again and looked back up at my family.

Jazz only stared at her hands in shock that the thing she had so firmly believed was fake was probably actually very real, and that she was a bigger part of it than she realized. Mom looked like she was being crushed. Dad was just blankly blinking at the plate in front of him.

"How long have you known?" it was barely a whisper, but I heard Mom's question loud and clear.

"Just since I got that letter. About an hour and a half." my voice was flat and emotionless. Mom nodded and put her head in her hands. Dad looked over at me, something like pity shining in his eyes. I looked back down at my feet.

"I can't believe you guys. Even if this is real, you're angry at Danny for something he can't control. He just found out something huge about himself that's potentially life-threatening, and you want to call him evil? You raised him, you should know if he's a good person or not. He's your son. And if you're going to forget about that just because of what he is, then you're both monsters. If you hurt Danny, you lose us both- if he leaves because of you, I leave too."

We could only watch Jazz in amazement. Mom and Dad looked down guiltily. I couldn't help it- I never hugged my sister harder than I had right then. Even if I couldn't count on my parents, I could always count on her, ever since we were little. I should never have considered hiding it from her, at least.

Jazz held my hand and smiled at me, nodding her head. She would be there for me no matter what. She would never leave me for something like this. We looked together at my parents, they were watching us carefully. Dad swallowed and opened his mouth to speak.

"We need some time. We just need to talk-alone." he stood and helped Mom up, and the two slowly made their way out of the kitchen, upstairs, and into their bedroom.

I stared after them. I must've looked pretty pathetic, because Jazz hugged me again.

"It'll be alright. You'll see."

By the time they walked down the stairs again, I was a complete nervous wreck and had completely packed my duffel bag with food, water, and other essentials. It was waiting by the door. Jazz had tried to dissuade me from packing it, but I ignored her and packed anyway. If I'm going to have to run, I don't want to hang around here for too long after I'm kicked out.

I was sitting on the couch, playing a game of scrabble with Jazz- something she had conned me into doing so I could calm down.

They walked into the living room, their faces streaked with dried tears, and grim looks on their faces. Mom's face fell a little bit when she saw the bag by the door.

"Danny?" Dad said. I looked up at him, cruel hope rising in my chest.

"We're sorry. We were wrong to doubt you."

Mom ran forward and wrapped her arms around me. "We love you so much, sweetie, we're so sorry!"

Hot tears ran down my face, a relieved laugh escaped my lips and I hugged her tight. Jazz joined the hug, and pretty soon, we were all enveloped in Dad's huge embrace. My whole family was crying- something we don't do often, even individually.

They accepted me. They actually accepted this.

I don't think I've ever been happier.

-X-

August 18th came almost too soon.

At precisely noon, there was a knock at the door. I set my duffel bag on the ground by the stairs- this time, packed without food and water- and opened the door.

A tall, severe looking woman stood there. Mousey brown hair and green eyes. She was older and had an air of control and confidence.

"Danny Fenton?"
"That's me."

"I am professor McGonagall. I wrote your letter."

"It's nice to meet you, professor. Do you want to come inside?" I shook her hand and opened the door wider. She looked inside nervously and looked back down at me.

"Is-is it alright?"

"Y-yeah. I told them about me and- and they're cool with it. Kinda." I smiled up at her and she sighed in relief and came in the door.

"Do you want something to drink or something?"

"Oh, a water would be lovely, thank you."

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back in a minute."

I walked out of the room and passed my parents in the kitchen.

"She's here." They both looked up at me, startled.

"Who's here?" I rolled my eyes at my Dad while I reached for a cup.

"Professor McGonagall- the lady who sent the letter. She's here to pick me up."

"Ah." Dad nodded uncomfortably. They accepted me, but they were still understandably wary. I mean, they had held a lifelong hatred against witches and wizards- us, I should say- I filled the cup with water and made my way out of the kitchen and back to the living room, my parents decided to follow me.

When we got to the living room, her eyes widened and she discreetly put her hand on something stored in her sleeve.

"Here you go, Professor, these are my parents, Maddie and Jack Fenton."

I set her drink down and motioned to my parents who both warily shook her hand. She kept one hand on her sleeve the whole time.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs. Fenton. I'm here to answer any questions you may have and take Daniel to Hogwarts."

We all sat down on the couch, Jazz had gone to the library earlier and said she would be back by 1 so she could see me off.

"Why is Danny like this?" Mom asked, her voice cold again. They may be okay with me being their son, but they still weren't completely on board with the idea. I looked down at my feet.

"My goodness, you make is sound like the boy is sick."

"Isn't he? If it can kill him or make him go insane, isn't that an illness?" The professor could only stare in shock at her. She glanced over at me, confusion clear on her face. I only looked down and shrugged.

"Mrs. Fenton, your son is not sick. He is perfectly healthy, I can assure you. Only untrained magic is even remotely harmful to the user. Danny is about to get a world-class education, so I wouldn't worry about that."

"What about money? I know you people have a different currency than the rest of the world."

The professor was once again astounded by the tone she used when saying 'you people'. She looked at me again, but I kept my head down.

"Hogwarts provides funds for it's muggle-born students. You won't have to worry about paying for Daniel's education."

"Is there a way to get rid of his magic?" The professor's eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

"Whatever for!? Even if there was such a way I would not endorse it! Your son was born with a gift Mrs. Fenton. Magic is not a curse! I suggest you get that idea out of your head before your son believes it too." Mom looked over at me, an angry look on her face that melted when she saw me. I was cowering in the corner of my seat, trying for all of the world to not look Mom in the eye.

"Where is Hogwarts?" Mom asked with a breaking voice. The Professor's eyebrows rose at the sudden change in topic.

"I apologize, Mrs. Fenton, but for the safety of the school, I am not allowed to divulge that information to you." Mom frowned at that and was about to fight before Dad stepped in.

"Will we be able to talk to Danny, or see him?" I looked up at him, a small smile on my face. The professor also smiled and replied.

"Yes. There is a break during the Holidays and a staff member will bring him to and from the school. As for daily communication, electronics don't do very well at Hogwarts because of magical interference, but owls are used to send and receive mail at Hogwarts. Daniel can send you letters every day, and you can send him some."

Dad nodded excitedly at the idea of using birds for communication.

"Is there anything else you are worried about?" they both shook their heads and the Professor turned to me. "And you, Daniel. Do you have any questions?"

"What's the school like?"

"Well, the students are all mostly quite nice, if not a bit mischievous. Although, if you'll excuse me, because of your family, they may be wary towards you, some may even be cruel. Crimes are remembered for a very long time in the wizarding world, and your family's crimes against us are taught to frighten children into keeping quiet about us. It is hard to forget a scary bedtime story." she finished. I looked down at my feet again. So the other students would most likely be terrified of me. Which means bullying and probably few friends. That's going to be fun.

For the next hour the Professor and I talked about what would happen when I got to Hogwarts and getting supplies.

When Jazz got home, it was finally time to go. We said our goodbyes, and I told them to expect to hear from me soon. I followed Professor McGonagall out of my home, and into an alley. My duffel was swung over one shoulder haphazardly and my clothes were messed up from all of the hugging.

"Take my arm please, Mr. Fenton." I did as she asked and soon there was a sucking feeling in my gut. It felt like I was being squeezed through a tube half my size at a very fast speed.
I didn't like it.

When it finally stopped, we were in a narrow road. Lined with shops and carts and filled with oddly dressed people.

I stuck close to the Professor as we made our way through the crowds.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mr. Fenton."