(A/N)

I have received a review asking if things from this story can be used as fuel for other stories. I feel that there can be only one response to such a question: if your plot bunnies think that something in one of my stories looks tasty, feel free to feed it to them. If you read something I wrote and find the proverbial TNT to take out your Writer's Block, take it.

That said, I don't own Danny Phantom or Harry Potter.

Magical

Chapter the Second

Magical

The scene on the other side of the portal wasn't grainy or unfocused in the least. Danny and Clockwork emerged into what appeared to be a normal living room. The sofa was big and squashy looking, the coffee table had a few magazines and some knitting on it, and there was a fire crackling in the big fireplace.

There were a few abnormalities, though. The figures in the photographs over the fireplace moved, watching the two ghosts with evident surprise. The footrest growled at the floating figures. A small hand-bell glowed red and lifted itself up off of a chest of draws swinging side-to-side, chiming far louder than it should have been able to.

A nondescript black haired woman in a floral pattern housedress bustled into the room and snapped her fingers at the bell, which put silenced immediately and put itself down.

"I'm surprised, Clockwork," she breathed, blue eyes shining with a faint red film, "you're three hours late. We were starting to think you weren't coming."

"Three hours?" the master of time mused. "My control in this world seems to be slipping more than I had thought. Another day or two, and I might not have been able to get you here, Phantom. As it is, I will have to leave now. Your foster parents can explain everything to you."

Danny watched as Clockwork vanished back through the blue portal, which closed behind him. 'There goes my only way home,' he thought sadly. Hardening his resolve to take down this Riddle guy, he drifted to the ground and returned to his human form.

"I was told you were half human, but I didn't expect you to be so ready and willing to just drop into your human form in a strange place. Or are things different in your world?" the woman asked in a cheerful, though somewhat strained, voice.

"Very different," Danny laughed. "So, what are you going to explain that Clockwork didn't have time to?"

Plopping down on the sofa, which was every bit as squashy as it looked, he prepared himself for a long story.

"I should probably get Spines in here for the explanation. Oh, I'm Mist Shade, by the way. We'll give you our cover names as part of it," she rushed, before turning back toward the doorway. "Spines!" she shouted. "He's here!"

"What? He was so late that I thought I might have misremembered the date!" a baritone voice shouted back. This was followed by running footsteps, and a huge man, easily over six feet tall and broad in the shoulder, rushed into the room, skidding comically to a stop when he saw Danny on the couch. "Did Clockwork already leave?" he asked.

"Yeah," Danny sighed. "He's got his hands full. So, what's so different about this world that Clockwork thought I'd need to be briefed on it?"

"First, I have a few questions, ah…Phantom, right?" Mist Shade stammered, radiating nerves.

"Shoot," Danny smiled, trying to appear unthreatening.

"Are you familiar with witches and wizards?" Spines began.

"No," Danny replied. "Are they real in this world?"

"They aren't in yours?" Mist Shade shrilled, eyes widening in shock.

"No," the half ghost affirmed, shaking his head.

"I'll start with the basics, then," Spines sighed. "My 'human' name is Howard Fenton, this is my wife, Debbie, and you're our only son, Danny. Debbie's a witch, and I'm a muggle, that is to say, a human without magical powers. As the son of a witch, you'll be posing as a wizard, and going to a school for young witches and wizards called Hogwarts.

"Witches and wizards have their own culture, quite different from muggles. It is now the beginning of June, so you have three months to familiarize yourself with using a quill to write with. In a wizarding home, moving paintings and photographs, animate inanimate objects, and candles are the norm.

"There are books on history in the house, Debbie can show those to you later. You probably won't need to know most of that at the start, so you can relax and do whatever you want. Our job is to make certain that you don't stand out, and can pass as an ordinary young wizard."

"There is one thing that Howard forgot to mention," the woman that fit the name "Debbie" so much better than "Mist Shade" added. "Everyone at Hogwarts will know, and fear, the name 'Voldemort'. He was a dark wizard that vanished ten years ago when he failed to kill a boy named Harry Potter. The Potter boy will probably be in your year at Hogwarts, and you will be expected to know him on sight. He has a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead, so if you meet him, be sure to stare at it at least a little. Otherwise, you're bound to stand out.

"No one in the wizarding world speaks Voldemort's name. You will hear him referred to as 'The Dark Lord', 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', and 'You-Know-Who'. He and his followers, the Death Eaters, killed thousands of muggles while he was in power. He had non-human followers, as well. The giants were on his side, as well as werewolves, vampires, hags, and our kind—the phantasms."

"Wait, phantasms?" Danny interrupted, confused. "You mean we have a different name in this world?"

"Different?" Debbie asked, surprised. "What are we called where you are from?"

"Ghosts," he answered.

"Ah, well, ghosts are a completely different thing here," she smiled, seeming relieved. "In this world, ghosts are the pathetic shades of dead wizards and witches. They have no power beyond speech, and cannot even become corporeal."

"Anything that you need to know about this world can be found in the books in the library upstairs, or read in the paper. We have a subscription to the Daily Prophet, so that shouldn't be a problem. I'll show you around the house, then," Howard smiled, gesturing to the doorway.

Firmly reminding himself that this was really important, and that while he'd miss his friends and family terribly, they wouldn't even know he'd been gone unless he told them, Danny followed the ghost—no, phantasm—up the stairs.

Magical

(A/N)

Phew! That's the longest time I've ever taken to finish a chapter once I've started it: a whole 28 days!

I blame Writer's Block (guess I need some of that metaphorical TNT) and this huge research essay I have to do…well, I got inspiration on the ESSAY instead of this, so…good for my grade, not for my fanfiction.

Sorry. As always, updates will be sporadic. Requests for updates make me feel guilty…and guilt makes me write. Though maybe I shouldn't have told you guys that?