No Kindred spirits, D-Stabilized, or PP… Also Dan Phantom/ Dark Dan/ Dan Plasmius/ Dark Danny… Or whatever you want to call him escaped the thermos and destroyed Amity Park.
Disclaimer: I don't, and never will, own Harry Potter or Danny Phantom. If I did they would suck.
"I need to talk to you in private," Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.
"Go away, Ginny," said Ron.
"Oh, that's nice," said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.
This had only a man sitting fast asleep next to the window, curled up next to him was a small black and white wolf- that was purring?! (A/n- ghosts can purr now!)
"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.
"Professor R. J. Lupin." whispered Hermione at once.
"How'd you know that?"
"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string in the luggage rack over the man's head, where the name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.
"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.
"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.
"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway..." he turned to Harry, "what were you going to tell us?"
Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Wesley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. *Then they had a conversation about Sirius, the sneakoscope, and Hogsmeade that I don't feel like including.*
Hermione began undoing the straps of Crookshanks's basket.
"Don't let that thing out!" Ron cried too late as Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket,
stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron's knees; the lump in his pocket trembled as he
shoved Crookshanks angrily away.
"Get out of it!"
"Ron, don't!" said Hermione angrily. Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They waited in silence as he shifted slightly, but continued to sleep. Crookshanks settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket.
The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. The wolf began to whimper quietly, still asleep. At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.
"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."
Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.
"Er — Professor?" she said. "Excuse me — Professor?"
He didn't move.
"Don't worry, dear," said the witch, as she handed a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."
"I suppose he is asleep?" said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean — he hasn't died, has he?"
"No, no, he's breathing," whispered Hermione, taking the cauldron cake Harry passed her as the wolf began to twitch. Suddenly the little wolf emitted a low howl, before bolting upright and falling out of the seat. They watched in astonishment as the wolf shifted into a boy their age and hit the floor with a thud. Harry cleared his throat and the boy sat up, surprised. The boy had raven-black hair with white tips, and icy blue eyes that seemed to glow with power and grief. "Oh, sorry. I didn't notice you there," the boy said softly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. The sound of his voice seemed to snap Hermione out of her speechless shock. "Who are you? How did you do that? Aren't you a little old to be a first year? What year are you in? Are you American? Why —" She was cut off as the boy burst out laughing.
"Slow down. My name is Danny Fenton, I'm the professor's adopted son. Yes I'm American. I will be in 3rd year. I only found out about magic recently, and I can do other things, wanna see?" Danny replied. Then turned into a fluffy black and white cat with toxic green eyes.
"So… Who are you?" Danny asked, shifting back to normal.
~Time Skip; Brought to you by Clockwork~
Mid-afternoon, Danny was, once again, in cat form,laying up among the luggage when they heard footsteps outside in the corridor, and the 'Golden Trio's' three least favorite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel."
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly. Danny growled quietly from his spot among the trunks. Suddenly, he was behind Malfoy. "And who, may I ask, are you?" Danny asked calmly, startling the three snakes.
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. That's Crabbe and Goyle." Malfoy stuck out his hand, once more composed.
"Daniel Fenton," he stated, ignoring the outstretched appendage and Hermione's gasp, "Is there a reason you're here, besides acting like a pompous idiot?"
Malfoy's pale face grew even paler when he heard Danny's last name. He opened his mouth to reply when the still sleeping Professor Lupin gave a snort.
"Who's that?" said Malfoy, taking a step back.
"New teacher/My adoptive father," Harry and Danny stated together.
"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.
"Fenton? As in descendant of John Fenton-Nightingale," Hermione questioned immediately, not noticing Danny cringing. "Witch and ghost-hunter in the 1600s and Salem's self-proclaimed 'Greatest Witch-Hunter.' Most successful at catching true witches, not just muggles accused of witchcraft. And,"she continued in a softer tone, "only survivor of the gas explosion that took out that american town?"
Danny flinched, angry tears in his eyes, "ΑΥΤΌ ΉΤΑΝ ΈΝΑ ΈΝΔΥΜΑ!" his voice seemed to have an echo. ("THAT WAS A COVER-UP!")