An Owl's Invitation

"What?" The boy asked as the old woman walked up. She had grizzled gray hair, matted down by a hairnet, a string shopping bag swung from her wrist, clanking as it went, and on her feet were a pair of woolen plaid slippers, matching closely the dress she wore under her clear, plastic, rain jacket. She smelled fairly strongly of cabbage.

"He left!" The old woman said, clutching her hands. "The fool left to see someone about some sort of deal! Something about a batch of cauldrons that fell off a broom!" That sounded like fairly strange thing for someone to investigate to Danny; cauldrons that somehow fell off of— a broom, did they say? "I told him, oh I told him, that if he left I would flay him alive! And look! Look what happened. Dementors!"

'Dementors?' Danny thought. 'Did she mean the ghosts?'

"Excuse me, ma'am." Danny finally spoke up, and the woman looked at him as with a mix of worry and curiosity; as though this was the first time she actually noticed him standing with the two boys. "I don't know if you, and this Mundungus character, are apart of some sort of ghost neighborhood watch or something; but I've got everything under—"

"You're — You're a witch?" Interrupted the boy with a shocked expression on his face.

"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well." The woman said, not taking her eyes off Danny while she spoke what seemed like gibberish with the other teen. She pointed at Danny. "Who's this one? One of your friends? One of his?" She pointed down to the groaning larger child.

Danny raised his eyebrow.

"What, you don't know who I am?" He asked. Pointing to his chest emblem as the woman shook her head. "Danny Phantom? Saved the world nearly a year ago?"

"Saved the world?" She asked, bemused. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"You seriously don't know who I am?" asked Danny again.

"Actually, I don't know who you are either." Said the boy, who started to sound annoyed that Danny was taking the time to ask these questions.

"Really?"

The teen shook his head.

"Well… This is actually sort of refreshing." Danny smiled, and stuck his hand out to the woman. "Danny Phantom, ghost-boy extraordinaire—"

"Oh, just a ghost." Said the old woman, waving a dismissive hand at Danny before going to talk to the boy again. Danny's jaw dropped slightly.

How could these people be so casual about ghosts? He didn't expect a big reaction or anything, but this was definitely what he considered an under-reaction. Although, as this woman spoke to the other teen, the boy stared at Danny with curious eyes behind his glasses.

As they spoke, Danny leaned down to check on the larger boy. He was trembling, his face pale. Whatever those ghosts did to him, it wasn't good.

"Hey. Hey buddy?" Danny tapped him on the shoulder, but there was no response. "You okay?"

"Oh, he'll be fine." The elderly woman walked over to the boy on the ground, and began shouting at him. "Get your fat bottom off the ground, now!"

"Hey, go easy on him." Danny said, glaring up at the woman. "Those ghosts did a number on him."

"Those weren't ghosts!" The woman said, tugging at the large youth's arm, trying to lift him off the ground. "Those were Dementors! You should be able to tell them from your own kind."

"You know Dumbledore?" Harry asked the woman, staring at her now rather than Danny. The lady continued to try and pick the large boy up, but to no avail.

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on—"

"I'll get him." Danny said, picking the boy up off the ground, and slinging him over his shoulder with ease. They both stared at him. "And I don't know Dumbledore."

Both of them stared at Danny.

"What manner of ghost are you that you can pick objects up, and don't know of Dumbledore: the most powerful wizard of our time?" She asked, looking at him with the most bewildered look. It was as though this caught her more off guard then the fact she was speaking to a ghost. She reached her hand out, and touched his chest, then shot her hand back as though she had been burnt. "You're tangible!"

"He can cast spells too." The conscious boy chimed in. The elderly lady seemed troubled as she looked Danny up and down.

"Dumbledore is going to want to hear about this…" She mumbled to herself.

"Spells? Wizards?" Danny's face almost matched the bemused woman. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you a muggle ghost? How is that possible?" She asked. Danny shook his head.

"Look, I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but we need to get this kid to a hospital or something—"

"He shouldn't need a hospital, not a muggle one anyways, but I do agree we should leave." The woman began shuffling down the street. "If those things come back, I'll be of no help." The boy followed her, and Danny walked after him.

"Keep your wand out." She told the messy haired teen. Danny saw the boy raise his "wand" higher. "We can forget the Statute of Secrecy now. You've used your patronus, and there's going to be hell to pay anyways."

Danny ignored these confusing words; he had questions that needed answered.

"So I noticed you both have British accents…" Both of them looked at Danny peculiarly. "You wouldn't happen to be two tourists in America, would you?" They both shook their heads. "Ah. That… complicates things. Where are we, exactly?"

"Magnolia Crescent," the boy told him, "Surrey, England." Danny stopped on the spot.

"London…" He said as he put his hand on his face, then continued walking, and sighed. "It's going to be a long trip home."

Danny tuned out their conversation while he walked; it contained the continuously strange words like Squib, Dursleys, Apparate, and something about borrowing an owl, but none of that mattered to Danny. His thoughts were dedicated to what was happening at Amity Park.

Figuring out where he was only made him feel worse; he was now farther away from his family and friends then he had previously imagined. Danny only hoped that he hadn't actually been away too long. In fact, since he was in England, no time might have passed at all. Before he left, in Amity, it was three o'clock; and here, it was already night. As soon as he dropped these kids at their home, he was going to fly as fast as he could back to—

There was a loud crack and a squat, unshaven, ginger haired man appeared right in front of them.

"Holy shit!" Danny jumped backwards, nearly dropping the semi-conscious teen.

"MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" The woman shouted as Danny clutched his chest.

"What did you… How did you?" Danny took a good look at Mundungus Fletcher. The man had short, stubby legs, long hair, bloodshot eyes, all of which was contained in a large, tattered overcoat. He smelled like a bad combination of liquor and tobacco.

"'S' up, Figgy?" Fletcher said, looking first at the boy with glasses. "What 'appened to staying undercover?" He then looked over to Danny. "And who's this bloke?"

"I'll give you undercover!" Cried the woman, apparently named 'Figgy'. "Dementors, you stupid, useless, skiving thief!"

"What? Dementors?" Mundungus seemed to retreat slightly as he spoke. "Dementors here?"

"Yes, 'Dementors here', you worthless little pile of bat droppings, here!" Figgy yelled as she hit the man with her heavy bag. "The Dementors attacked him on your watch!'

"I… I just—Blimey." Mundungus said weakly, looking at the trio of people standing in front of him. "Blimey, I just was… there was a—" He tried to find the right words for an excuse, but chose to try and change the subject instead. Mundungus pointed at Danny. "Who's he? An' why is he glowin?"

Before Danny could answer, Figgy intercepted.

"Apparently he's a ghost called 'Danny Phantom'." Said Figgy, still staring daggers at Mundungus, malice in her voice. "Who can cast spells." Mundungus looked at Danny in wonder.

"Well, that's not entirely true—" Danny started to explain, but was interrupted.

"A ghost? That can cast spells?" He repeated, still staring at the halfa.

"That's what I just said, you oaf—"

"Dumbledore will want—"

"Yes, Dumbledore will want to hear this." Figgy raised her bag and began hitting the man mercilessly with it. "I — told — you — not — to — go!"

"Ow — ouch — gerroff, woman! I said gerroff, you mad old bat! Someone's gotta tell Dumbledore about all this!"

"Yes — they — have!" Yelled Figgy, continuously hitting Mundungus with the heavy bag. "And — it — had — better — be — you — and — you — can — tell — him — why — you— weren't — at — your — post!"

"Oi, I'm going, I'm going!" Mundungus said, cowering as the old woman raised her bag again. He looked over at Danny one last time before there was another loud crack, and he vanished.

"How… How did he do that?" Danny asked, waving his hand where Mundungus once stood. "Is he some sort of ghost?" Danny knew the question was a stupid one as he asked it. His ghost sense didn't go off; he couldn't have possibly been a ghost.

"Don't be silly." Figgy said, a hint of annoyance still present in her voice, leftover from her encounter with Mundungus. She looked over at the two teens, still just standing there as she started walking. She motioned them to move. "What are you two waiting for? Come on."

They turned onto the street Private Drive.

"I'll walk you to the door, Harry." Figgy told the boy with glasses. "Just in case there are more of them… Oh, what a catastrophe… We were trying to keep you from doing any magic at all costs… But it's no good crying over spilled potion, now—"

"So, Dumbledore… he's been having me followed?" Harry asked, eyes shifting from Figgy to Danny.

"Well, of course he has." Figgy said impatiently. "Did you expect him to let you wonder around on your own? After what happened at the end of June?"

"And you," Harry's attention was pointed at Danny, "have you been following me? Are you working for Dumbledore?" They turned into the driveway of one of the houses, and Danny followed them.

"No." Said Danny, firmly. "Like I said before, I have no idea who this 'Dumbledore' is." Harry seemed to look at Figgy for confirmation.

"I don't know who, or what, he is." She said, and Harry nodded.

"So, what are you going to do?" Asked Harry.

"I'm going straight home." Said Figgy, and Danny nodded with her. That was his plan too. "I'll need to wait for further instructions. Just stay in the house. Good night."

"Hang on, don't go yet! I need to know

"So, what are you going to do?" Asked Harry.

"I'm going straight home." Said Figgy, and Danny nodded with her. That was his plan too. "I'll need to wait for further instructions. Just stay in the house. Good night."

"Hang on, don't go yet! I need to know—" Harry shouted after Figgy as she hurried away. "Wait!"

It seemed as though there was much more he wanted to ask Figgy, but she had already disappeared into the darkness. Harry sighed, and scowled as they walked up to the front door.

"Alright, well I believe this is yours." Danny set Dudley down off his shoulder, and tried to help him on to his feet. He let go of the boy, and he started to sway. Danny threw the large teen's arm around his neck to support him. Harry rang the doorbell.

"So… you're a wizard? Magic, and stuff?" Danny asked him. Harry nodded as he tucked his wand into jeans.

"Huh." Danny muttered. He had encountered weirder beings in the past, so this wasn't totally out there. "Cool."

"And you really don't work for Dumbledore?" Harry asked. Danny could hear footsteps in the house.

"Nope. Never even heard of the guy before today."

"Well, thanks for the help."

"Don't mention it. It's my job."

An outline was growing larger on the frosted glass in the door. A shrill voice cried out from the inside.

"Diddy! About time too, I was getting quite—" A thin, blonde-haired woman emerged rom the house. Her pale eyes shot to the boy leaning on Danny's shoulder. "Diddy? Diddy, what's the matter?" Danny looked at the Diddy, who was becoming a pale green. Danny became intangible, letting the teen's arm phase through his neck, and he took a step backwards before the boy vomited all over the doormat.

"Yuck." Danny floated a few inches off the ground to avoid standing in the bile.

"DIDDY! Diddy what's the matter with you?" The woman, who Danny could only assume was the two boys mother, shrieked. "Vernon? VERNON!" A fairly large, dark haired man, walked into view; sporting a fairly walrus-like mustache upon his purple face. "He's ill, Vernon!"

"What is it, son? What happened?" The two parents managed to lead their trembling son into the house.

Harry looked back at Danny, who gave him a mock solute before flying away as the door shut behind him.

He looked back at the house as he flew through the air, and stopped when he had a sudden realization.

"Idiot!" Danny flew back to the ground, became human, and pulled out his cell phone. His parents, and his friends, must be worried sick! He didn't even think about—

No signal

That's just great.

Danny held he phone up in the air, and then walked a few steps to the right, then the left. Hoping that moving in slightly different directions would change his situation. He sighed, and went back into ghost mode. He flew up into the air, holding the phone up high, eyes locked onto the tiny screen.

"Oof!" Something had hit him square in the chest. That'll teach him to be on his phone while flying. He stopped and looked at the puff of grey feathers that began to fall to the ground, stunned.

"Whoops." He shot down and caught the owl with ease. Danny floated down to the sidewalk, and set the bird down. "There you go."

The owl was still shaking on the ground when Danny noticed it was carrying a letter in its beak. He reached down to take it, but the owl jerked it's head to the side, and slapped Danny's hand with it's wing.

He retracted his hand and laughed. The owl looked up at Danny, and cocked its head before dropping the letter on the ground. Danny reached down, and picked it up.

"Hey— Ow!" Danny shouted in pain as the owl pecked his hand several times in agitation, most likely for running into it, before flying off into the night sky.

Danny put his throbbing finger into his mouth as he examined the envelope.

Danny Phantom

Front Yard

4 Private Drive

Little Winging

Surrey

Danny blinked, and read the address again. Front Yard? That was a fairly specific address to write.

He ripped open the top of the envelope, and slid the letter out. It felt as though it was written on parchment.

Fancy.

Dear Mr. Phantom,

I hope this letter finds you well.

I can only assume that you followed through with

escorting Harry and his cousin back to their home,

and ended up at Number Four Private Drive by the time

Cyril arrives.

Danny raised his eyebrow. That was lucky.

Mr. Fletcher informed me that you are able to perform

very fantastic tasks for someone of your kind. I would

be very much interested in meeting you; and perhaps

discussing the possibility of helping us in our cause.

Please meet Arabella Figg at Number Six Private Drive,

and await Mr. Fletcher to escort you to a safe location

where we can speak freely.

Yours Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

"Dumbledore..." Danny read out loud, and then looked up at the night sky, then back at the letter. He really should start his journey home…

But his curiosity was getting the best of him. Wizards and magic… Sam would probably kill him if he didn't follow through and learn more about their kind.

Danny turned around, and began looking for Number Six.

Amity could go without him for a little while longer.

.

. . .

.

Sam sat in front of the pane of glass that cut her off from the glowing crack etched into the wall. It had only been a little more than a day since Danny had disappeared into it, and the town had gone into a frenzy.

First, Sam and Tucker went to Danny's home, and told Jack and Maddie exactly what happened. They sprang into action, quarantining the area, and containing the area of incident with a plexiglass border. The inside of the quarantine-tent was crowded with different devices and computers, all surrounding the glass box. The glass had several holes, mechanically sealed, so that the two parents could still insert their instruments while being safely behind the border.

The glass box was also big enough for Danny, in the case he came back through.

Sam was adamant in believing he would.

The police came next, first asking about permits, and then asking if there was anything they could do to help.

Then the press came.

They swarmed around the fence surrounding the Fenton Industries embossed white-tent, trying to get ahold of anyone close to the border of the quarantine. The world's hero had disappeared, and the public wanted answers.

Simmons was not to be found in the crowd.

"These readings," said Maddie as she approached Sam, with Jack in toe, "Are unlike anything we have ever seen." Sam heard a rustling noise, and turned around to see Tucker enter the tent. "We assumed it would be some sort of natural portal to the ghost zone, but it's completely different—"

There was a cracking sound, and all eyes shot toward the wall. The light had intensified, like it had when Danny went through.

"Danny!" Sam yelled as she ran towards the wall. Sam stopped in front of the glass, and shielded her eyes along with everyone else. The light began to dim, and everyone looked hopefully to the casing around the crack; but Danny was nowhere to be seen.

The light started to become fainter, and fainter, and soon the crack was barely glowing as it began to close, and fade.

"No!" Sam banged her fist against the plexiglass. Jack ran up and shot the glass with one of the Fenton-Blasters, fracturing the glass. He then rammed into it. The glass shattered, and Jack and Maddie tried to get a final reading on it before it faded out of existence.

The two frantic parents plugged their devices into a computer while the Goth teen fell onto her knees, defeated.

Tucker walked over and put a hand on his friends shoulder.

"Don't worry, he'll be back."

Sam didn't answer.

She stood up, and walked out of the tent. Tucker stared at the empty wall.

"He'll be back."

A/N: Yay the next chapter came way sooner than the last one! I began writing this, I turned on the TV, and coincidently: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix was on. IT WAS A SIGN!

Oh yeah: I don't own Danny Phantom or Harry Potter.

Also, with the owl slapping Danny's hand, I'm not giving this owl some quirky, sassy, personality; BIRDS ACTUALLY DO THIS.

Please review!

It inspires me write these things.

And I'll try to respond in the best way I can without revealing any spoilers.