Summary: Hogwarts is a castle of many hidden wonders. Magic resides within its fortress walls, and it is wondrous, oh how wondrous. But it is all too easy to be changed by the secrets embroiled in magic, from an innocent child enchanted by wonder to... well, I guess, to cynical old me. Read carefully, granddaughter, and I will tell you my story.

Disclaimer: I own neither Danny Phantom or Harry Potter.

A/N: Here's the rundown: this fic is long-running crossover, of a psuedo-AU DP and HP where both universes are merged together and consequently both have minor tweaks. There is a greater divergence point on the DP side - but you'll figure out what that is a minute.

The story will be long - running through years 1-7 at Hogwarts and many years beyond. It will be sometimes slow and sometimes crazy. It will have several main thematic backbones, and many, many minor thematic points. It will also include much more secret-uncovering than action, as there are some components I added to the HP-verse to make it compatible with DP.

Welcome to 'Growing Up'.

I hope you enjoy the story and derive something valuable from its murky depths.

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P.S. Any feedback, especially any critical feedback, in the story will be taken well and be much appreciated. I am always looking to improve my writing. Otherwise, just enjoy.

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Last updated 5/1/2020

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Growing Up
Book One: Humanity

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Chapter One
A Kitchen, a Family, and an Owl

Hey, Eliza. Precious granddaughter. This is Danny writing.

I'm writing to tell you a bit about my past. There are many things that happened, and it's about time that you learned about them. I want you to understand some more of myself, and about our family.

It all started, I think, in England.

My family – my parents, my sister Jazz, and I – moved to London when I was eleven. I remember being shocked, angry, scared. You see, moving homes is quite a big thing for a young child. The unfamiliar and the unknown can tear at you like nothing else, and there was very much that was unfamiliar and unknown.

My parents had taken us there to begin life anew, clean of Amity Park's wrongdoings. Little did they know that so much would happen in England in the 1990s. I had, somehow, ended up in the epicenter of much of it: the Second Wizarding War, the Werewolf Liberation, the Ministry overhaul.

And that's without mentioning anything related to ecto-ghosts.

In England, I met my worst nightmares and faced my worst fears. In England I fought in a war and made my first acquaintance with death.

It was also in England that I found my first love, and with its loss, wisdom.

I will tell you how it all happened, so please read carefully, granddaughter.

It begins with a story I am sure you have heard many times from your friends: a kitchen, a family, and an owl. Only, our family was a bit different from most.

Humanity

It began with an ordinary day in the Fenton household.

The family was gathered around the dinner table. Not eating exactly, as one might expect: instead, the four of them were fighting off glowing green blobs of ectoplasm. The turkey had come to life in the oven – literally.

In the hands of each family member were toy-like guns. The adults, in their obnoxiously brightly-colored jumpsuits, were enthusiastically shooting away, bright green bolts blasting the blobs into nothingness. The two children were far more blase about it, wearing bored expressions as they whittled down the numbers of their ghostly enemies. At this point, this had become a daily occurrence and nothing to be too concerned about.

So you can see, it was a completely ordinary day for the Fentons –

– until the owl crashed into the dinner table.

All action stopped, freezing like a paused muggle action movie. Everybody stared at the owl, suddenly nonplussed by the change in such a set routine.

Then the last ectoplasmic blob took this chance to phase through the wall and escape.

The film unpaused. Everybody pivoted to stare at the wall the ghost had just escaped through.

"I'll catch the ghost!" then cried Jack Fenton a second later, the dad of the family, as he sprung out the door. The mom of the family, Maddie Fenton, turned towards the children and smiled.

Order once again returned to the Fenton household.

"Look, there's a letter!" Maddie said, stepping towards the dinner table where the owl lay, in one smooth motion setting down her ectogun and pulling up her goggles. The owl had flopped onto the table, face-down, wings splayed out, looking rather sad and deathly worn-out. Maddie very gently tugged out the envelope from between its talons. She turned the envelope over once, then twice, and scrutinized it closely, eyebrows furrowing as her gaze flitted from the owl to the envelope and back again. "It's addressed to you, Danny," she said finally.

Danny's mouth gaped open.

He was just eleven, and had never gotten many letters before, especially since they'd moved to England.

"To me?" he repeated incredulously, before smiling. He suddenly felt accomplished, like an adult. His parents got letters in the mail all the time. Even better, it had been delivered by an owl. "Cool. Who's it from?"

Maddie frowned and turned it over again. "I don't actually know."

Jazz, Danny's redheaded older sister – a real gnat, sometimes – peered at the letter curiously, craning her neck over her mom's shoulder. "That's weird. There just isn't a return address." She touched the letter, rubbed the envelope between her fingers, and grinned. "It's really nice paper though."

Jazz had a paper fetish. Danny found it weird.

"Can I see it?" Danny asked, leaning forward.

"Just hold on a second, sweetie," Maddie said, as she smoothed down the letter before cleanly slicing the envelope open with a pen knife. "It could be a prank. Did you upset anyone in the neighborhood?"

"No, Mom. It's only been a month. School hasn't even started yet."

"Hmm." She swiftly pulled the thick paper from the envelope. There were several layers of it, and she scanned the first page with an air of curiously, matching Jazz's expression from earlier. "Aha! It's a letter from..." She wrinkled her nose wrinkle and let out an exasperated sigh as she let the letter fall to her side. She looked directly at him. "Sorry Danny, I think it's a hoax."

"A hoax?" He was annoyed by this outcome.

"A joke," his mom explained, and the condescension grated on his nerves. "Or a trick, if you like." She frowned. "It's not a very nice thing to do – "

"I'm back!" shouted a voice from the door, and whatever Maddie was going to say was forgotten, for Jack Fenton was indeed back. His ectogun was auspiciously missing, though he was covered in goo. "What the – Why is that owl still on our table?"

And indeed, the owl was still standing in the center of the dinner table, looking vaguely cross now. It had clearly expended much effort to set itself upright again, and now was irritatedly waiting for them to get on with it. Whatever "it" was.

"Umm..." ventured Danny finally once the Fenton family's bewildered silence had become almost tangible. "Maybe it wants us to send a reply to the letter?"

"Letter? What letter?" Jack asked boisterously. Then he spotted the parchment curled in Maddie's fingers, and he brightened. "You got a letter, Mads?"

"No, it's for Danny," Maddie replied absently, as she turned the pages to read the rest of the letter. "It's quite impressive actually, how much work was put into this, but it can't possibly be real."

"Well, what's it say?" Jack asked boisterously, immediately rounding the table to stand by her shoulder. Maddie smiled fondly at him, before her eyes turned back to the letter.

"Well," she hedged, and the wrinkle of the nose was back. "It really isn't –"

"Can I read it already?" Danny interrupted, feeling like he should stomp his foot to make his point clear.

"You haven't read it yet, Danny-boy?" said Jack. "But it's your letter!"

"I know," the boy grumbled under his breath, and held out his hand toward Maddie. His eyes widened pleadingly. "Mom, can I please just have my letter?"

Maddie nodded, hesitantly passing it over. "Be careful though – it's really just nonsense."

And after taking a glance at it, Danny couldn't help but agree. As he read through the letter, his eyebrows rose higher and higher in astonishment and disbelief.

Well, he was flattered to be worthy of such an elaborate hoax.

When he was done, he smiled. "Jazz, you should read this," he said and passed it over. Soon, an incredulous laugh erupted from her, and smiling too, she passed it to her dad to read. Danny thought that the mysterious letter about a weird wizarding school named Hogwarts would give everyone a good laugh. God knows they needed it, what with the craziness of the past few months – and the craziness of their entire lives.

Then his dad spoke.

"Danny's been invited to attend a wizard school?" For once, there was a frown planted firmly on Jack's face. "I don't like this, Mads. It feels like they're making fun of us. We're ghost hunters, not, not wizards. And using our son to do it?"

Danny suddenly felt embarrassed about thinking the letter was funny.

"So what do we do about it?" he said, cheeks flushed.

"Do about it?" Maddie echoed. "Why would we need to do anything about it?"

"Well," Danny shifted uncomfortably – he had never liked being the center of attention, even within his own family – "they said they were going to send a... representative, right? Do you think somebody is actually going to come?"

A thoughtful look passed his mother's face. "You have a point there," she said. "If they really will send a representative, then it seems like someone is going through a bit too much trouble just to play a prank on us. Maybe the writer believes it." Her eyes roved from face to face until they rested onto Jack, before flicking to the owl and back. "I think we should write back. At least tell them we need some proof."

Jack was livid. "You want to write back to them, Mads? They're insulting our career!"

Maddie glanced meaningfully towards Jazz and Danny, and he immediately quieted down.

"Not with the kids here," she said..

"What!" Jazz protested. "But I want to know what's going on. I don't mind. I think we should write back too."

"Me too," Danny said. "It's my letter. I mean, I would like to know what's going on too."

Maddie sighed, then looked at Jack. He was still frowning. "Alright, alright. But let me talk with your dad first for a bit?"

They both nodded, and the adults moved to the kitchen, talking in hushed whispers. Jazz and Danny did their best to pretend like they weren't trying to eavesdrop, but really, they only were able to catch a few words anyway.

"Dad's really upset about it," Jazz whispered to Danny, finally. "Do you really think there might be wizards?"

Danny frowned, then whispered back, "Well, if ghosts exist, why not wizards?"

"You know that ghosts don't really exist," she said, and though his eyes were glued to their parents, he knew she had just rolled her eyes. "It's just ectoplasm."

"Same difference," Danny said. "No one believes in ectoplasm either."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jazz nodding sagely. "That's probably why Dad's so upset."

"Uh-huh. Like you know – "

He had to stop himself from a clever retort, when he saw their parents start walking back to the dining room. Danny tugged Jazz's sleeve urgently, she met his gaze, and then together they quickly scampered back to their places on the dinner table, looking like the perfectly innocent children they were.

Chagrined, they looked at each other, realizing that they hadn't even heard anything for their efforts.

"Alright, kids," Maddie said. "We're going to send back a reply."

Jack nodded. They were now a united front. "We need to know who they are and why they sent that letter to Danny." A tentatively hopeful expression lit his face. "And maybe they know something about ghosts!"

Jazz opened her mouth, as if to say something, then closed it. Then she looked strangely thoughtful.

"I'll go get some paper," she said, finally, then dashed upstairs.

Feeling like he had to do something too, Danny said, "I'll get an envelope," and rushed to the small office. He was there and back in a jiffy – he, like all responsible, mature children, knew where the envelopes were – and when he reentered to the kitchen, his parents were sitting at the dinner table.

"Here," Danny blurted, dropping two envelopes onto the table. "I got the big one and the small one, just in case."

"Wonderful," Maddie said, selecting the larger one. Jazz arrived at the table, slightly breathless. "Paper and pen," she announced triumphantly. "My favorite pen."

Sometimes, Danny thought, Jazz acted like she was four. And she was the older one of the two.

"Good job, both of you," Maddie said. "Now, what should we write?"

Humanity

The Hogwarts representative arrived the very next morning.

She was a tall, stern-looking woman, her hair wrapped in a bun, lips tightly stretched into a thin line, dark circles etched into the skin beneath her eyes. Her most striking factor were the austere black robes that enveloped her body. Unusual, even for London – and even for the Fentons.

Danny thought it was ridiculous, but he made her so nervous that he didn't say anything about it.

Luckily, she seemed to be more concerned with his parents than him, however, so he quickly poured his own cereal (which was for some reason glowing slightly green), ate it as fast as he could, and ran back upstairs to the haven of his room.

The peace and safety only lasted until a knock came on his door, just ten minutes later.

"Mr. Fenton?" An unfamiliar voice called past the wood and plaster. It was the stranger. "I would like to talk to you."

"Now?" he asked, dismayed. He glanced at his computer screen. He had just logged in to Doomed, and Tucker had already sent him a message in-game. "Um... Give me a moment."

Quickly, he opened the chat box and inserted in a quick message, sorry gtg, and exited out of the game. He left his computer on, however, since he figured whatever the woman wanted wouldn't take long, and he really didn't want to wait for his computer to start up again.

"Yes?" He slipped out through the door, closing it softly behind him, before the woman could see the… er, pristine state of his room. "What is it?"

He stood on his tiptoes to peer around her, nervously. He thought his parents would be there, but they weren't, and that was beyond unsettling to him.

A complete stranger was wandering around their house without supervision, and she knew where his room was.

Who is she? he wondered not for the first time.

"Mr. Fenton," she began, sounding somewhat weary and haggard. "I am a professor at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My name is Minerva McGonagall, pleasure to meet you. Do you remember the letter you received yesterday?"

Danny stared blankly at her.

Yesterday. What was yesterday. His mind was caught in the cobwebs of stranger anxiety and lingering thoughts of Doomed.

Oh, right. The owl, the letter.

"Yeah?" he said cautiously. He realized that she must be the sender. "What about it?"

"It's real," she explained, quietly, seriously, severe eyes boring into his. "You're a wizard, Mr. Fenton."

He shifted uncomfortably. There was a disconnect here, between her passion and the reality of now. A wizard, she said? He remembered his father's face, how affronted he had been at seeing the letter. His statement that the letter was mocking his parents' professions.

"Can we talk to my parents?" he said.

"Of course." And she turned around to glide down the stairs, as if she owned the place. It unsettled him just as her coming directly to his room had.

Feeling uncomfortable, he followed her down the stairs.

Mom and Dad were sitting on the couch in the living room. They looked dazed, an unusual sight on the two boisterous self-proclaimed ghost hunters. Danny instantly worried just at the sight of them, but the stern woman didn't look fazed in the least.

The moment his mom spotted the stranger, however, she regained her cool, a smile even gracing her lips.

"Minerva!" she exclaimed, and Danny was delighted to see a slightly disgruntled look on the stranger's – no, Minerva's face. "I see you brought Danny." And then there was a slight frown with that sentence, as if she too realized how wrong it was to have a stranger tredding free in their house. Danny stared at her pressingly, mentally encouraging her to comment on it, but instead, she said, "Have you... shown him what you could do?"

Jack, on the other hand, watched the woman like a hawk. Or – perhaps more aptly – as if she were one of those dangerous ghosts he always talked about, but had never seen himself. It was uncharacterisally serious, however, and made Danny's nerves worse.

"Not yet," Minerva replied perfunctorily. "I thought it would be best if you were here to assist as well."

Danny scowled, then finally scurried his way over to his parents. He lost the scowl once he was in the representative's line of sight. Mom smiled at him, tousled his hair, then turned her attention back to the stranger.

"Of course," his mother said pleasantly. "How would you like to start?"

"A simple demonstration will do." Her eyes focused on Danny, her stern presence overbearing.

Then she flicked her wrist, and Danny saw that she held a simple wooden stick in her hand.

"This is a wand," she explained to him. "It allows me to perform magic. Watch."

And she flicked her wand, and suddenly the coffee table that seemed to have been cleared exactly for this occasion, turned into a pig.

Danny yelped, and hit the frame of the living room door behind him. He gulped down a curse.

Then, despite himself, he drew closer to the pig, admiring its pinkness and smelliness and sudden-existenceness. It oinked at him, and he smiled.

He stepped even closer –

The pig jostled him, throwing against his knee, and Danny fell down with a startled laugh. There was a flash of light, and to Danny's disappointment, there was a table in front of him once again and no pig.

Where – he wondered.

He looked back up at the stranger with a question in his eyes, and was surprised to find a flicker of a smile on her aged face. He looked away petulantly, remembering that he didn't like this stranger.

"It's magic," she explained. "What I just did is called Transfiguration. The art of changing the substance - the being - of any object."

Danny's eyed lingered on the table. "Can you… can you show me something else?" he asked, grudgingly.

"Of course." She flicked her wand in a swift motion and said, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Suddenly the coffee table was floating. Danny looked back at the representative, Minerva, traced the angle of her wand. It was hovering exactly where her wand was pointing.

Danny felt a steady sense of wonder growing in him. His dislike, his nerves, they all evaporated away in the face of this feat.

He stepped forward, ducking down to inspect the table, absorbed by curiosity. No ecto-machinery, like some of his parent's hovercraft used. No machinery at all. He then stepped to the side, then poked at the table. It shifted slowly, like it was floating in thick syrup, then steadily equalized to its original position. He looked up at it, then wondered if it could carry his weight. Could he fly on that?

The table began drifting back down, and Danny whirled around to see Minerva slowly lowering her wand. The table met the floor with a soft click, and the woman tucked her wand away.

"How did you do that?" Danny asked, eyes wide.

She smiled again, fondly.

"I believe that Professor Flitwick will teach you the charm, in your first year at Hogwarts."

Danny couldn't believe it.

It was like a storybook.

"Is it," Danny said, barely managing to temper his growing excitement. "Is it like magic in the stories? Spells, potions, broomsticks?"

"Yes," Minerva confirmed. "Spells will be taught in almost all of your classes, particularly Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Transfigurations, which is my own class. Potions is taught by Professor Snape, and, of course, we have flying lessons on broomsticks to scout out members for our Quidditch team."

"And of course, we have flying lessons on broomsticks". The words echoed in his mind for their sheer audacity.

This is real, isn't it? he realized, looking at his parents, who were denying none of it.

Sudden dreams danced through his head, of arcane spells, of flying over clouds and cities and away, away, into the stars, of adventures through fields of whey grass with friends, of great ancient power flowing through his fingertips, under his command...

How had he missed that twinkle in her eyes before? Was it really so hard to see behind the stern lines of her face? In the face of this, magic, he found himself connecting to her, wanting to earn the respect of this, this wand-carrying adult.

"Yes, Mr. Fenton. You're a wizard, and magic is real. And that is why I'd like to extend an invitation to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to you."

"To me?" Danny widened his eyes like an owl. "Really?"

"It's a boarding school, Danny," his mother cut in softly. "This is why Minerva came today, to offer this to us. This is a big decision, but it's also your decision. There are other options for... learning magic, if you don't want to leave home for a full year, but she tells me it is a reputable school. And," she smiled at him, encouragingly, "you might make good friends there."

All of that sounded wonderful to Danny. Even the 'leave home' bit. They had only been here, in London, for a month, after all, and it wasn't like he had any friends to leave behind.

Jack too, was uncharacteristically serious. "We'll support you in whatever you decide, Danny-boy," he said, though he looked uncomfortable saying it.

He looked at his parents, smiling.

His mouth, which had been about to enthusiastically say yes, yes, I'd love to go to wizarding school abruptly shut closed.

A sudden, overwhelming fear overtook him. A creeping, gnawing recollection of reality. His heart rate quickened, and his stomach dropped.

Magic, wonder, he thought. Would it really be like that?

Reality is never as good as a dream.

He knew that well enough already.

He met his mother's eyes.

It was ridiculous. He was only eleven years old. He shouldn't be making decisions this big, this early, anyway.

Still, he told himself, he was happy that his parents were finally taking his own feelings into account.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, feeling shaky. Then, opening them, he turned to Minerva.

"I... I think I need more time to think about this," he said, a quiver in his voice.

"Of course." Her lips pursed in what might have been another smile, though the twinkle in her eyes was gone.

After a moment, she pulled out a thick envelope from her robes. It looked similar to the one he had received yesterday. She passed it to him, and he took it with his own small, unsteady hands.

"This is your official entry package for Hogwarts," she said, looking at him evenly, "if you should decide to go. Included is a list of supplies for the school year, as well as a map to Diagon Alley, where most witches and wizards get their supplies. Regardless of your decision, you should at least get a wand and other basics in order to train your magic properly." She paused, looked at Danny down her spectacle glasses. "Hogwart, however, is a wonderful place, Mr. Fenton. I strongly recommend that you go." A small, stiff smile, then, "Will you have made your final decision in a week's time?"

Danny's eyes drifted to his mother, uncertain. Maddie looked back at him, steadily, waiting patiently for him to speak.

"Um, I guess." A week seemed almost suffocating, trapping him.

"Excellent. Would it be agreeable then if I came by at say, 8 in the morning next week?"

This time, his mother did save him from the questioning.

"Of course," she answered graciously. "Thank you for doing all of this for us."

A smile danced on the representative's lips, before it shortly disappeared. "Of course. I daresay that you are some of the most... interesting muggles I've had the pleasure to meet." Then she paused, her expression suddenly thoughtful. "You mentioned having a daughter?"

A surprised look flashed across Maddie's face. "Yes, why?"

"In some cases, it is... difficult when one sibling has magic and the other does not. It would be wise to think on it some before telling her."

"Jazz wouldn't get jealous," Danny blurted. "I mean, she'd probably just psychoanalyze her own feelings about it or something like that..." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

The stern lines on Minerva's face eased.

"If that is truly the case, then I'm glad for you," she said, and turned back to the adults. "In any case, I must be leaving now. If you need assistance, follow the map. I am sure that Tom at the Leaky Cauldron will be more than happy to help."

As one, everybody began shuffling to the front door.

"Once again, thank you for all the help and explanations," said Maddie. "I'm glad someone like you is a teacher at a school my son might go to."

"It was my pleasure," said Minerva, the - the teacher? "Until next week."

Before Danny could say another work, she stepped out the door, flicked her wand, and disappeared with a pop. Danny stared at the spot of air she had just occupied, marveling at the utter magic, yet feeling weighed by the sense of oppressive decision so suddenly dropped upon him.

Humanity

And so it was that the next week, while supposed to be a relaxing summer break, was in reality an agony of indecision and inner turmoil. They had told Jazz as soon as possible. Her advice hadn't helped Danny much.

He still hadn't come to a decision about Hogwarts by the end of it.

He could see it in his parent's faces, the snatches of looks his parents had given him in that past week, the extra coddling: they didn't want him to leave. Every time he saw that, some part of him froze in fear. He worried that Hogwarts wouldn't be all that it claimed to be, and that he would be leaving for nothing. Or for worse than nothing.

It was almost ridiculous, wasn't it? To receive one letter, then change the course of the rest of your life, just for that?

But then, a very large part of Danny wanted to go. To enter the unknown and embrace something new, something wondrous. To leave London.

London had not yet become his home, in this mere month. Every time he looked outside, the trees were wrong, the sky was wrong, the stars were wrong. And he would know, seeing how much time he spent staring at them. Then, there would be those moments, where he almost catch a glimpse of Amity Park here, in how the night sky settled in on the horizon just so, and then everything just seemed so wrong. Especially when he knew that it was his fault that they had left.

It was in one such moment of homesickness, sitting outside stargazing, waiting for a magic solution to appear and satisfy everyone, he felt this most keenly.

For a second, he had imagined the constellations as they would be seen in Amity Park, how bright and vivid they would be, in contrast to the stars hidden beneath the London smog and light pollution. He had imagined the beauty of it, the sparkling distance, and almost saw it, reaching out his hand to reach them when –

When he realized it was just an illusion, and he was only left aching for something more.

He wondered again if magic itself would be that more. If it could fill his dreams with something other than unreachable stars and cold voids.

Then, he thought,

He wished he could just be up in the stars. To live his first real dream, as an astronaut. Where no human problem could touch him. Where he could lose himself in the wonder and cosmic beauty of the sparkling signals of millions of hot balls of gas, tens and hundreds of years away.

None of it helped him reach a decision. And time was running out. Tomorrow, Minerva McGonagall would come again.