This chapter is evil. You will all hate me by the end of it. Good news is, I plan on updating soon, so you won't have to suffer for long. .
Thanks to: Twinkle Phantom, Knight25, Dr. Dani Seuss, dizappearingirl, dAnnYsGiRl777, BugzAttack, purrbaby101, Millie M. Banshee, egyptianqueen777, FreakishlyObsessedVampyreGi…, WhiteRat63, Nonasuki-chan, Kantrix Gabriel, Horselvr4evr123, Lunargurl101, PotterPhan21, msweetie913, Shewhodanceswithdragons, GadgetCid, Sasia93, SpartanCommander, Sweeteen19, Shiva the Sarcastic, and ghostanimal.
And of course, thanks to SolaCatella for beta-ing.
Sorry about the short chapter…but hey, at least I didn't take over a month to update. :) Chapter ten will, however, be very long.
As a side note, some of you may want to check chapter eight and see if you've read it yet. I think this website was having a problem with email alerts when I updated last time.
Disclaimer: The day I own Danny Phantom or Harry Potter is the day my Spanish teacher stops assigning so much homework. (Looks hopeful) Seriously, I don't know which would be better.
Deep in the Ghost Zone, in the parts inhabited by none but the most powerful and mysterious of ghosts, lies a large building adorned with a clock. It permeates a strange aura, both repelling and drawing others in. However, few have ever ventured inside, and those that have are quickly dealt with.
Two ghosts stand watch at the front door, their tall, foreboding green figures unmoving. These one-eyed, robe-adorned spirits, the Observants, watch over the work of the edifice's inhabitant, guiding and, in some cases, issuing orders.
If you proceed inside the fortress, past numerous dark halls and long, empty corridors you would have never imagined the building to possess, you will finally enter a large but cluttered atrium. It is filled with gears attached to the wall and ceiling or suspended in midair by numerous rods and poles. Strange medallions dangle on one side of the room, glinting innocently, while an old, battered thermos lies on a rickety table in a dark corner.
Perhaps the most curious thing in the room is what appears to be a cross between an Indian dream-catcher and a portal. Where the netting of the dream-catcher is supposed to be, it is empty, save for a peculiar swirling green vortex.
The green mass will intermittently focus into images of people and places before reverting back to its usual form. It is in one of these intervals that we find something of interest.
An indistinguishable individual wearing a black robe is hurrying down a wide, empty street. His face is indiscernible, hidden by the fabric on his cloak. His movements are quick, jerky, and unsure, almost frightened. One could definitely tell that this young man was nervous.
Who is he? Only timewill tell.
And an unnoticed figure stood in the shadows, a blue hood covering his face as he raised his staff.
Let the broken circle close…
Harry Potter and the Ghost of Amity Park
Chapter Nine: Hunters and Dragons
"I discovered I scream the same way whether I'm about to be devoured by a Great White or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot." –Axel Rose, Guns'n'Roses
"'Ave ze eenvitations been owled yet?" Fleur asked, brandishing a roll of parchment and almost hitting Hermione. The young witch scowled, ducking down just in time. She tossed her quill down, exasperated.
"No, Fleur, but Mrs. Weasley and I are sending them out tomorrow morning," Hermione said, trying to stop an overexcited Fleur from destroying the living room. She managed to latch on to the woman's arm, prying the parchments from her grasp and setting them down on the table next to Ron, who was staring at his History of Magic textbook with a confused look on his face. "There aren't that many, so it shouldn't take too long."
Ever since the disastrous trip to Arizona, Ron and Hermione had expected Harry to be in one of his touchy moods, rarely talking to anyone and easily set off. So they had barely said anything to each other, resulting in an awkward silence. It had been like that for a grand total of about seven hours.
That was when Fleur and Bill unexpectedly swept in, announcing their sudden wedding plans.
The summer had been too hectic, they explained, for them to be properly wedded. But now that everything had decidedly cooled down, their long-delayed wedding could go ahead as planned. They also decided, amidst protests that they should have a better arrangement, to have the wedding here in Amity Park inside Harry, Ron, and Hermione's temporary home. That way, the members of the Order, most of who were living in Amity Park temporarily, wouldn't have to travel back to England for the marriage ceremony.
Mrs. Weasley, of course, disapproved, arguing that the house was too small to hold a proper wedding with numerous guests. But before she could finish, Bill and Fleur objected. They didn't want a big wedding, they claimed. Just close friends and family. Surely that wouldn't risk the security around the house, and the Weasleys could easily attend it without having to travel very far.
Mrs. Weasley finally consented. Needless to say, many of the Order were in shock for quite a while.
Fleur and Bill had wanted the wedding to go ahead as soon as possible, worried that something else would come up before they could get married. So far, everything was going smoothly. Bill's werewolf bites didn't seem to have changed him much, although he was still isolated during every full moon as an extra precaution. About a dozen wedding invitations had been written and sealed, ready to be sent out by owls the next morning, and decorations were already being put up. However, Fleur was still fussing over her wedding dress, driving almost everyone crazy with her twittering.
Needless to say, Harry now had much more in mind than the botched plan to retrieve the Horcrux, and the cause of that was currently in a frenzied state in the living room.
"Zey do not 'ave much selection in zees magazine," Fleur sighed, tossing a thick catalogue onto the couch. "Zey do not 'ave what I am looking for."
Bill picked up the thick magazine, flipping through the pages rapidly. "You'd look good in anything," he reassured his fiancée. "How 'bout this dress here?"
Fleur waved it aside at a glance. "Too green," she declared. "I would look like shrubbery."
Bill bent over to mutter something unintelligible in Fleur's ear, causing her to laugh as he wrapped his arms around her. Behind them, Ron made exaggerated puking motions. Harry snorted while Hermione merely sighed, trying to immerse herself with the thick History of Magic tome they were supposed to be studying.
"Shouldn't you have your dress picked soon?" Harry asked hurriedly before Fleur and Bill decided to launch into anything more…intimate. "The wedding's in a week."
"Eet ees so 'ard to decide," Fleur sighed. "I want to find ze perfect dress. I theenk I will 'ave eet tailor-made."
"At Madam Malkin's?"
"I'm not completely sure yet," Fleur said, thinking it over. "My muzzer knows a very good shop in France. I might 'ave my dress made zere."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione's tutor, a young witch with a bad perm, sniffed haughtily, perhaps jealous.
Ron opened his mouth to say something, but right at that moment the doorbell rang loudly, echoing through the corridors and sounding faintly in the living room.
"Will someone please get the door?" Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen.
"I'll go," Harry volunteered, motioning for Ron to sit back down. He pulled himself up from the floor, throwing down his notes. He was sure that he wouldn't be able to get much studying done now anyway.
"Who would come over to our house right after dinner?" Harry grumbled as he walked out the room. He traipsed down the hall, reaching the door and yanking it open.
The question died on his lips as his eyes widened.
Standing there at the door was Draco Malfoy.
Oh yeah…Harry definitely wouldn't be getting much studying done today.
Sam and Tucker were currently sprawled on the floor in Danny's room, notes and worksheets strewn everywhere. Danny was hovering over them in his bed, hanging upside down and frowning at the red marks on his paper.
"Ugh, there's so much stuff to cover for the English test tomorrow," he groaned. "I hope I don't have to go after a ghost tonight. I'll fail if I don't study."
"You just tossed Youngblood back into the Ghost Zone yesterday," Sam mused absentmindedly, flipping through her binder. "There probably won't be another ghost out so soon."
"Yeah, but didn't your ghost sense go off during lunch today?" Tucker asked Danny.
"I never did find the ghost," Danny admitted. "Hopefully it was just the Box Ghost or Kitty and Johnny 13 out for one of their monthly cruises again."
"Man, shouldn't you be worried that Johnny 13 and his girlfriend get out so much?" Tucker asked.
Danny shrugged the best he could while hanging upside-down. "We made a deal. If he doesn't cause any problems, he can come every few weeks. But if he so much as breaths wrong, I can toss him back into the Ghost Zone." As an afterthought, he added, "I still think Kitty put him up to it."
Sam made a "hm" of agreement.
"You know what Johnny 13 is? He's whipped," Danny laughed.
"Oh really?" Tucker asked in a nonchalant tone too realistic to be sincere, glancing meaningfully between his two best friends. "Kinda sounds like someone I know, then."
Danny reddened, grabbing his notes and shuffling them with unusual vigor.
"Uh, can we start quizzing each other now?" he asked hurriedly, trying not to sound too awkward.
"Wait a second, Danny, I wanted to ask you something," Sam said, rolling on her back to look up at Danny. "What exactly happened on the school trip to Arizona? All you told us was that you got a new morphing power and something about a museum that Ron, Hermione, and Harry were wandering around in."
"Yeah, they never told me what they were doing there…" Danny recalled.
"Didn't you ask?" Tucker questioned.
"Oh, I did," Danny said, waving his hand carelessly. "But Hermione started asking me what was up with me, and she wouldn't tell me what they were up to if I didn't tell them what I was up to, as if saving them wasn't enough—"
"Whoa, wait a sec," Sam said suddenly, shooting up. "You sound like Hermione was suspicious about you or something. Start at the beginning."
"Fine," Danny sighed. "I got up in the middle of the night because my ghost sense went off, right? And it led me to the museum, where I found those three running around under a…an 'Invisibility Cloak.' I was about to ask them what was up before some crazy museum ghost attacked and I suddenly got my new morphing power, but before I could fight the ghost off a security guard came. That was basically what happened."
"And after that?"
"I was going to leave, but Hermione kept on asking about what I was hiding. So I asked her that she had better tell me what they were doing in the museum in the middle of the night before I told them anything. I went home and practically passed out in my bed, then woke up in the morning to the sound of Dash falling off the bunk bed and onto the floor. I laughed. The end."
Sam and Tucker laughed at the end before looking at Danny seriously.
"Dude, that Hermione girl's practically got you all figured out," Tucker said. "And who knows what else she can find out with her…voodoo and stuff?"
"It's not voodoo, Tuck, it's magic," said Sam. "God, I felt like something out of a Disney cartoon when I said that." She slammed her head on the floor, sighing, before looking up again. "I'm not trying to sound all scary and stuff when I say this, Danny, but I think we should stay away from the wizards and the witch for a while…especially Hermione. We can't risk her finding out your secret."
"You're probably right," Danny agreed. "I just can't believe she's figuring it out so fast…I mean, she's closer to finding me out than all of the people in Amity Park combined."
"Being oblivious is their God-given talent, Danny," Sam said. "It'd be a shame to waste it."
"…That was sarcasm, right?" Tucker asked. Sam rolled her eyes, laughing.
"We need to get back to studying," Danny urged. "I really wanna pass this thing tomorrow."
However, Danny's request went unfulfilled as the door bell suddenly rang. All three of them groaned.
"Who could that be?" Tucker asked. "Didn't your parents take Jazz to some psychology convention?"
"Yeah, so it couldn't be them," Danny said. "I don't know…maybe they'll go away if we ignore them."
"Oh yeah, that's nice," Sam said, but did as Danny suggested.
However, whoever was at the door kept ringing the bell insistently for almost a minute. Finally, Danny couldn't take it any longer and phased through the floor too the front door, annoyed.
"It'd better not be a prank," he muttered under his breath. Once he got to the door, he wrenched it open. The person outside was still ringing the bell.
"What?" Danny hissed, then froze.
Outside of his door stood Valerie Grey, who was on the verge of unconsciousness. She was in what remained of her battle-suit, which was now covered in ragged holes. The ghost hunter was covered in large, gaping wounds, some of which were still bleeding freely. An ugly bruise was rapidly forming on one side of her face.
"Valerie, what happened?" Danny demanded.
"It's…the ghost kid," she managed to gasp out. "But…he's different, somehow. He said…" she gulped, then continued. "He said he was you."
Danny stood there at the door, paralyzed. What was he supposed to do?
"It's not true, is it?" Valerie wheezed out. "It's not—"
She swayed unsteadily on her feet, then teetered forward. Danny managed to catch her clumsily and kicked the door shut hurriedly with his foot.
What was Valerie talking about? And how did she figure out the connections between Danny and his alter-ego? Moreover, who was this other Danny Phantom Valerie was talking about? Danny's head was spinning, and he wanted to just collapse somewhere and think. He half-carried and half-dragged Valerie to the couch, setting her down awkwardly.
He heard something clattering down the stairs and turned to see Sam and Tucker walking towards him, surprised looks on their faces. He opened his mouth to explain and see if they could make any sense of what was happening.
And that was when his ghost sense went off.
That's right, the main plot is unraveling.
Next update: In three weeks at the most. I promise.
Please review! Constructive criticism is appreciated, blatant flattery is coveted. :D