Oy…Thank you LaBOBuren! You've geared me up! I've read your review from August 4th, and once I read it I immediately decided, I'm getting the third chapter of CoTF as soon as possible. Well, I was still at camp and then it hit me when I got home: redo the story. Because, well, one, my writing skills then weren't whack, but they still lacked the level of decency I strive to achieve now. Whoa…big words, eh? So, while remaking it, I decided to make it an HBP crossover. Sorry for those of you who haven't read it yet, but I realized, any overly crazed HP fan would've finished it by the time I did (on the 18th of July), so tough luck to the HP fans who haven't read it yet. I sort of regret my decision…I was really upset to abandon the theory of Umbridge being Danny's mom…it made up half the damn plot!
Well, it's past 1 am on the 29th and I'm not stopping until this story is up! So you'd better be damn happy with it! Flames still accepted though.
IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE REVISED EDITION OF COTF, GO BACK AND READ IT RIGHT NOW!
SUMMARY: Now that Voldemort has risen, this is a dangerous time for anything, especially enrolling a new student. Danny Fenton has been enrolled in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and no one trusts him. At the same time, some horrible twisted thing is messing with Harry's and Danny's bodies. The worst thing is, no one knows that everyone is playing right into Voldemort's trap, and Harry and Danny are in the middle of it. HBP SPOILERS.
DISCLAIMER: yada yada, reference to chapter 2's disclaimer.
RATED: T for language and slightly mature themes.
Chapter 3
"Overlap"
About two seconds after Harry closed his eyes he was shaken awake. Or so he thought, because as he tiredly opened his eyes, through the window was a bright streak of sunlight. He opened his eyes fully, slipping on his glasses.
"Wuzzgoingon?" he asked, suddenly staring two faces in the eyes.
"We didn't know you were here already!" said a loud and excited voice, and he received a sharp blow to the top of the head.
"Ron, don't hit him!" said a girl's voice reproachfully.
"You dolt! He just woke up!" said another voice, this one male. But unlike the other two, Harry couldn't tell who it was, and this person was apparently American from his accent.
"You all right?" said Ron, backing out so Harry could prop himself up on the pillow to have a glance around the room.
Doing so, he peered about and saw the same room he had entered the night before. Standing before him were three people, though he only recognized two. One was Ronald Weasley, preferably Ron, and the other Hermione Granger. But there was another, with black hair and clear blue eyes. He looked remarkably like Harry, but only in terms of the face and physical structure. When it came to clothing, they couldn't have been more different; this boy had black boots and matching jeans with a navy T-shirt. He also saw several silver links hanging off his pants and several black bracelets on his wrists.
True it was. Danny had packed a few extra things and didn't have the time to put them on that morning, so they went in his trunk. But this was his normal attire, complete in every way.
Danny lifted his arm coolly and curled his hand into a fist with the exception of his thumb and pinky. Harry could see a small speck on his wrist. Danny dropped his arm silently, not a word coming out of his mouth.
"All right?" asked Ron.
"Never been better, but I could deal with knowing who he is," said Harry, rubbing the top of his head and slumping down the pillows. "You?"
"Oh, him!" said Hermione. "Introductions later!"
"We've been fine," replied Ron as though Hermione never said anything. "When did you get here? Mum's only just told us!"
"About one o'clock this morning."
"Were the Muggles all right? Did they treat you okay?" Harry could see the black-draped boy's brow raise up in confusion. At this, Harry himself got confused. If this boy was a wizard, why didn't he know Muggle? Then again, he may be just newly discovered, like Harry was at eleven, and not know what a Muggle is yet.
"Same as usual," said Harry casually, as Hermione perched herself on the edge of his bed, "they didn't talk to me much, but I like it better that way. How're you, Hermione?"
"Oh, I'm fine," said Hermione, who was scrutinizing Harry as though he was sickening for something. He thought he knew what was behind this, and as he had no wish to discuss Sirius's death or any other miserable subject at the moment, he said, "What's the time? Have I missed breakfast?"
At long last, the mysterious boy moved from his spot and checked his watch. "It's around ten thirty."
Harry nodded as Ron continued. "Don't worry about that, Mum's bringing you up a tray; she reckons you look underfed," said Ron, rolling his eyes with the boy. "So, what's been going on?"
"Nothing much. I've just been stuck at my aunt and uncle's haven't I?"
"Come off it!" said Ron. "You've been off with Dumbledore!"
"It wasn't that exciting. He just wanted me to help him persuade this old teacher to come out of retirement. His name's Horace Slughorn." The boy in the corner gave an involuntary twitch.
"Oh," said Ron, looking disappointed. "We thought—"
Hermione flashed a warning look at Ron, and Ron changed tack at top speed with the boy smirking as he leaned on the wall. The wall pushed him up, one leg on the ground firmly, the other bent and against the wall, arms crossed.
"—we thought it'd be something like that."
"You did?" said Harry, amused.
"Yeah…yeah, now Umbridge has left, obviously we need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, don't we? So, er, what's he like?"
"He looks a bit like a walrus,"—the boy gave another twitch—"and he used to be Head of Slytherin," said Harry. "Something wrong, Hermione?"
She was watching him as though expecting strange symptoms to manifest themselves at any moment. She rearranged her features hastily in an unconvincing smile.
"No, of course not! So, um, did Slughorn seem like he'll be a good teacher?"
"Dunno," said Harry. "He can't be worse than Umbridge, can he?"
"I know someone who's worse than Umbridge," said a voice from the doorway. Ron's younger sister slouched into the room, looking irritable. "Hi, Harry."
"What's up with you?" Ron asked.
"It's her," said Ginny, plonking herself down on Harry's bed. "She's driving me mad."
"What's she done now?" asked Hermione sympathetically.
"It's the way she talks to me—you'd think I was about three!"
"I know," said Hermione, dropping her voice. "She's so full of herself."
Harry was astonished to hear Hermione talking about Mrs. Weasley like this.
The boy nodded understandingly and got up from his position. He at last engaged in the conversation. "I know. She walks around trying to mooch something off of me. It's so annoying. The way she talks to me, you'd think I was more important than Bill. I swear, she's trying to s e d u c e me." Harry's eyes widened; Mrs. Weasley? Seducing a boy his age? The picture just didn't come to in his mind.
Harry could not blame Ron for saying angrily, "Can't you three lay off her for five seconds?"
"Oh, that's right, defend her," snapped Ginny. "We all know you can't get enough of her."
This seemed an odd comment to make about Ron's mother. Starting to feel that he was missing something, Harry said, "Who are you—?"
But his question was answered before he could finish it. The bedroom door flew open again, and Harry instinctively yanked the bedcovers up to his chin so hard that Hermione and Ginny slid off the bed onto the floor.
A young women was standing in the doorway, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. To complete this vision of perfection, she was carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray.
"'Arry," she said in a throaty voice. "Eet 'as been too long!"
As she swept over the threshold toward him, Mrs. Weasley was revealed, bobbing along in her wake, looking rather cross.
"There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!"
"Eet was no trouble," said Fleur Delacour, setting the tray across Harry's knees and then swooping down to kiss him on each cheek: He felt the places where her mouth had touched him burn. The boy rolled his eyes as if he were pathetic. "I 'ave been longing to see 'im. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about 'Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again."
"Oh…is she here too?" Harry croaked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the boy about to burst out in laughter.
"No, no, silly boy," said Fleur with a tinkling laugh, "I mean next summer, when we—but do you not know?"
Her great blue eyes widened and she looked reproachfully at Mrs. Weasley, who said, "We haven't gotten around to telling him yet."
Fleur turned back to Harry, swinging her silvery sheet of hair so that it whipped Mrs. Weasley across the face.
"Bill and I are going to be married!" Behind her, he could see the boy puff his mouth, holding two fingers to his mouth, eyes wide. Harry recognized it as a very good impression of an ill person about to throw up.
With that, Fleur gracefully leaned back up and left the room, Mrs. Weasley grumpily following, closing the door as lightly as she could, which wasn't that light at all.
"To hell with everything else," said Harry rudely, starting on his breakfast. "Introductions now, I don't feel comfortable like this."
Smiling as if he knew something Harry didn't, the boy walked up to him. "Hey, Danny Fenton." Harry's eyes grew wide.
"Fenton? As in—"
"Everyone gets the same reaction!" said Danny with a small chuckle. "Yeah, Fenton, as in the freakish ghost hunting family with one daughter in psychology and a son who always has ghost gadgets going off at him."
Brows raised, Harry continued. "Why?"
"Oh, um, yeah, see, well—" Danny stammered. Ron and Hermione looked at him curiously; obviously this was one thing they hadn't known before. "My dad's a little screwy, so most ghost gadgets go off with me since some ghost energy got into my body when I fixed the portal. But it was nothing big!" he added hastily.
"Why do I get the feeling this isn't the truth?" asked Hermione.
"Um, yeah, maybe, er, because it isn't?" replied Danny shyly.
"Then what is?" asked Ron.
"Er, yeah, can we continue this conversation later? I don't feel comfortable right now with it."
There was a sickening pause after this last nervous comment. Danny looked down at his shiny boots and shut his eyes. For a second, he felt his body go cold and the necks on the back of his neck prickle with goose bumps. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, in desperate hope that nothing had changed. Standing on the ground were two black boots.
"It's later," said Ginny in a stern monotone.
"Fine, you caught me, but I warn you, you might want to avoid me after this," warned Harry. They had cornered him, and he had no choice but to comply. And anyway, weren't these people witches and wizards? If anyone knew strange, it was them.
"I'm—"
"Danny! Come down with the lot of them!" said Mrs. Weasley halfway up the stairs. Danny let out a sigh of relief. For some reason, he had freakishly good timing.
Danny opened the door and ventured down the stairs, the rest of the people trailing behind. As he reached the last step, he carefully peeked over the wall to see what was going on. To his surprise, there was a cake.
"Come on, come on! Happy Birthday, Danny!" said Mrs. Weasley proudly ass he ushered them all down the stairs.
"Wait, it's the thirtieth already?" asked Danny in shock; boy, two weeks passed by freakishly quickly!
"Yeah!"
"Happy 16th Birthday, Danny!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley happily. Fleur got up from the living room and headed towards him. Obviously she didn't see him rolling his eyes.
"'Appy Birthday, Danny!" she said smoothly, leaning down in the smallest bit, her face magnified to ridiculous proportions.
"Um, yeah, thanks," said Danny distractedly as Harry and Ginny snickered behind him. Danny swooped past Fleur as Harry wondered how he was unaffected by her. Shaking this off, he sat down at the table with everyone else as Mrs. Weasley cut a heaping piece or two for Danny and Harry. Ron got a moderately large one, which immediately stopped his snickers, peering at the large plate.
After a long time of trying to get out of the party (Danny wasn't so keen on them, not since Vlad) and successfully worming out of Fleur's romantic, yet pathetic clutches, Danny was finally able to venture back up the stairs with the rest trailing after him.
"So…" said Hermione, breaking an annoying, slightly buzzing, silence between the five of them.
"What about that secret?" Ron had voiced what everyone was thinking and what was silently nagging at Danny's mind. He knew that he'd either break it or make it with one sentence and prepared backstory to it so it wouldn't seem so ridiculous.
Sighing, he braced himself for the worst.
"Well…"
Chapter 3
Chapter 4: don't get your hopes up in the following week
Whoo! That was nice! Took a little more than an hour to write, with a little intermission for Mugglenet's random lists! But it's done, and up just because LaBOBuren reviewed again after several months. She kept me going and I'm so happy everyone likes it. I didn't plan on Fleur trying to… you know…with Danny at first.