Wherein Voldemort's lineage is uncovered and Danny receives some unusual guests.
Or, Maddie Fenton is a Witch. This has consequences.
âDoes a Madeline Riddle reside here?â
Danny squinted at the assortment of people crowded on his front steps. The one who asked, an elderly man that reminded him of Gandalfâdown to the long, white beard and flowy, if not obnoxiously colored, robesâwas flanked by a stringy-haired, wild-eyed man who looked one gentle breeze away from completely losing it, and a pale, dour-faced man dressed as if he were competing with Vlad in a vampire-themed fashion contest. The vampire-wannabe eyed Danny like he were something unpleasant he had found under his boot. Rude.
Peeking out from behind the adults was a young manâor teen, really; he looked to be around the same age as Danny, give or take a year or so. The other teen gave Danny a searching glance before angling further to the right, so clearly looking to catch a glimpse of the interior of Dannyâs home. Not on this halfaâs watch. Danny cracked the door closer to himself and blocked the rest of the view with his frame, lifting an unamused brow.
Heâd wisened up since his younger years. In the worldâs most ecto-contaminated town, letting potential ghost-huntersâbecause why else would they visit the worldâs leading experts on ectoplasmic entitiesâget a lay of the land wasnât a good idea, especially when it was his haunt.
The bespectacled teen flushed in embarrassment when he was caught and adjusted his circular frames awkwardly, oozing anxiety and interest and . . . was that a tinge of real fear?? Danny couldnât be that scary, no?
Actually, now that he looked closer, the teen wasnât alone in his messy (to Dannyâs senses) expulsion of emotions. A heavy blend of apprehension, stress, and determination streamed out of the group and into the atmosphere. The halfa could almost feel the poignant emotions bonding to ambient ectoplasm. He sighed internally, making a note to scan for freshly formed blob ghosts on his next patrol.
The four of them were odd, more than most, yes, but not the weirdest whoâd arrived at the Fenton household. Though none of the others ever referred to Mom by her maiden name. She was famous (or more accurately, infamous) for her decades-long obsession with ghost-hunting, rocketing her and Dad and their shared business into notoriety in certain (largely supernatural or supernatural-inclined) circles.
Danny craned his neck, spotting the telltale glow of the FENTON WORKS sign, then turned back to the group. âWhoâs asking?â
âI am Albus Percival Dumbledore,â Gandalfâs long-lost twin began, a solemn expression settling onto his aged face, âand Iâm afraid, my boy, that you and your family are in grave danger.â
Danny blinked, opened his mouth, then shut it.
When were they not, he thought sarcastically. The kitchen is a certified OSHA hellscape, never mind that the entrance to the afterlife was just a floor down. Itâs more surprising only one of them was lowered into a grave, considering. A small, unmarked grave, but a grave nonetheless. That didnât include the many, many close shaves Jazz and his parents experienced after the ghost attacks began three years ago.
âItâs true. Your grandfather is a very dangerous man, one who recently learned of your motherâs, and subsequently the rest of your familyâs, existence. Thereâs no telling what sort of vile acts he will commit with this information.â
Wild Eyes leaned against the railing and feigned interest in his chipped nails, briefly glancing up at the halfa to declare, âProbably already sent his death eaters to get rid of this particular stain on his image. Canât imagine someone like him would want a squib walking around freely, let alone if it was his daughter.â
âMind your words, Black!â Vampire-wannabe hissed as Dumbledore shot Wild Eyes an admonishing look. The boy behind them looked scandalized, his eyes darting between the adults and Danny.
It . . . did somewhat make sense once he thought about it. Not the âdeath eatersâ or âsquibâ part, whatever those meant, but the bit about people being sent after his Mom. Both as Danny and Phantom, heâs been noticing the uptick of unfamiliar faces walking about in Amity, nearly all dressed in long, dark robes as though they were cosplaying stereotypically evil wizards.
He had followed after a few of them, invisible and curious, but all they did was mutter derisively under their breaths about something called a âmuggleâ, glare at anything that moved, and occasionally wave around a wooden stick and butcher the Latin language. It didnât look like they were harming anyone, so Danny left them to it. There were better things to do than stalk uninteresting LARPers, or so he believed.
Danny should have looked deeper. Outsiders in Amity rarely bode well for him. One of the more memorable times itâd happened, heâd been brainwashed into joining a circus. Ugh, he still wakes up in cold sweat remembering it.
(Worse still was the GIW. Despite how laughable the organization presented itself when it first arrived, the agents had gotten scarily competent in a matter of months. In the blink of an eye, they went from struggling against ectopuses and other animal spirits to expertly tracking down and capturing the likes of Vlad. And wasnât that a shock to hear, the âgreatâ Vlad, bested by mere mortals. No matter how he jokes now, it wasnât a laughing matter at the time. The GIW had begun snatching anyone with even a hint of ecto-contamination after forcefully taking control over the townâwhich, considering they lived in the same town that housed the portal spewing thousands of pounds of ectoplasm every hour, meant that just about every townsperson was up for grabs.
It had taken the concentrated effort and cooperation from tens of ghosts and a sizable chunk of Amityâs population to whittle away the GIWâs resources and forces during the prolonged battle over the town. It had taken weeks for their efforts to bear fruit, as they managed a complete victory over the organization. They had dismantled the GIW (with prejudice) shortly after.
The aftermath of their near total reign over Amity wasnât pretty. All he could say was that the town was practically rubble in combat-heavy zones and required extensive cleanup and construction. Some of the people (and ghosts) whoâd been snatched never came home, either. He doubted the terrifying weeks Amity was subjugated was something neither he nor the townsfolk could ever forget . . .
He would be better off if he never had to think of them again. Still, that experience had prompted him to be warier, regardless of how little of a threat there seemed to be.)
There were also the throwaway lines Mom and Dad mentioned the last few times they spoke with Danny, complaining about how their latest sensors were randomly malfunctioning and leading them straight to a living human, not a ghost. He brushed it off, simply thinking it odd. Danny hadnât had the chance to sabotage their latest inventions yet, but it was nothing to really worry about. His parents would never deliberately harm people. Through negligence, sure, but never intentionally.
That begged the question: what exactly were they here for?
Almost deliberately, Danny tightened his grip on the doorknob and creaked the door shut a couple more inches, playing up his uncertainty as he asked, âHow do you know this? You guys obviously donât like my grandfather but seem to know a lot about him.â
The boy Dannyâs age spoke up this time, a hard glint in his eyes, âYouâre right, we donât like him. Heâs hurtâkilledâhundreds of our people already, and he would go on causing more destruction and chaos if we werenât there to oppose him.â
Our people. Interesting distinction, but . . . âWouldnât I have heard about something that big, even if it happened across the pond?â
âWhat young Harry means to say is that we,â Dumbledore gestures to his three companions, âare part of an organization that opposes your grandfather and protects the innocent from him and his followers. And Iâm afraid you couldnât have known, our community takes great measures to ensure his actions are never reported to the general public. Itâs simply safer that way.â
He had the gall to look apologetic, like it was a huge loss Danny suffered by not being part of said community.
Great. So not only was Danny dealing with a homicidal grandfather, but also a shady secret society and-slash-or cult that his grandfather, and by association Mom, are (and were) members of.
And just when he thought his (after)life was settling downâDanny was finally sleeping longer after an agreement with his rogues, his grades were steadily climbing, and heâd finally had the time to indulge in his previously abandoned hobbies!âhe was hit with this.
Biting back a sigh, he plastered on a sugary sweet smile, said, âWell, wait just a moment, âkay?â then slammed the door in their faces.
This was something for Mom to deal with. There was little doubt she wouldnât be able to handle whatever this situation hurled at her, doubly so if she brought Dad with her. That meant a blissful, explosion-free week in which Danny didnât have to anxiously look over his shoulder whenever he went ghost . . .
Danny strode towards the basement door, something almost akin to excitement guiding his steps. He loved his parents, really, but wouldnât decline a (much-needed) break from their overwhelming enthusiasm for their work and penchant to shoot-first-ask-later.
Maybe he could finally call Tucker and Sam over to finish their binge sesh after itâd been interrupted by last monthâs ectorabbit invasion? Itâs been a while since they could hang out freely in his house. He nodded, resolved, and swung open the door to the basement.
âMom, thereâs people at the door who want to talk with you . . .â
Prompt by @welcometosasakiworld
Filled May of last year, but I thought Iâd finally polish it up and post it here :3
This is more of a setup for if I (or another author đ) want to continue this concept.
The concept was expanded on a bit more on the full reblog chain if you want to check it out Ù©(^á^ )Ù ÂŽ-
(divider by @/strangergraphics)
