flipside

“RIIIIIIIINNNNNGG!” The school bell chimed, the doors of Casper High opening and releasing hundreds of students into the sweltering summer heat. Among these crows, somewhere near the back, was a trio of students. 

The one in the lead, Tucker Foley, held a sleek-looking cellphone, having exchanged his PDAs for newer technology a few years ago. A red beret adorned his head, and a normal (looking) pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. He was tapping something on his phone, looking like a stoplight in his baggy yellow long-sleeved shirt and olive green cargo pants. The African-American’s brown hiking boots hit the ground in a steady rhythm as he walked, navigating on pure muscle memory. 

The second, Sam(antha) Manson, was dressed like your stereotypical goth. Shoulder-length black hair with a short ponytail in the back, held back with a green hairband. A black choker adorned her neck, with identical bracelets around her wrists. A skin tight cropped tank top, -black with a purple oval over her chest- showed off her surprisingly toned physique, as well as a few scars. Her purple leggings were accented by her eyes and makeup, both of the same color, which went surprisingly well with her black and green skirt and combat boots. She had a silver septum piercing as well.

Sam was walking side by side with the third member of the trio, Danny Fenton. He was probably the strangest-looking out of the trio. His eyes, one blue and the other green, had heavy bags under them, and his somewhat-long hair was tightly pulled back into a short ponytail, while the front still poofed out in all it’s messy glory. The end of the ponytail, when one looked closer, appeared to fade slowly to white at the end, though this phenomenon was not present anywhere else in his hair. Around his neck was a black choker, though unlike Sam’s, this one looked somewhat similar to a crown, and seemed to suck in any and all light. Most of Danny’s body was covered by the baggy red and white sweatshirt and ripped and faded blue jeans he wore, while what looked like a pair of red and white Converse peeked out from under the cuffs of his pants. On his right ring finger sat a toxic green ring with a skull engraved on it, which almost seemed to be glowing. He also had pierced ears, silver rings through his earlobes and two more on the upper rims of both (slightly pointed) ears. A seventh silver ring shined on the rightmost side of his nose.  

Danny stumbled along next to (and slightly behind) Sam, looking vaguely uncomfortable and more tired by the minute. When he opened his mouth to yawn, his slightly sharper than average canines caught the sunlight.

As his eyelids drooped, Sam dropped back to walk even with him and poked him in the shoulder, jolting him back to slightly more awake.

“You doin’ okay there buddy?” she asked, looking at him concernedly. He shrugged.

“‘M fine, the heat’s just messing with my core and making me tired.” he chuckled sadly. “The fact that i haven’t slept more than an hour a day in the past three probably isn’t helping either.” 

Sam was about to reprimand him on this atrocious behaviour when he straightened, eyes flashing a bright orange as he scanned their surroundings. 

“...wha-”

“We’re being watched.” Danny cut her off as he scanned the surrounding area with his eyes and with his senses, his eyes staying the same bright shade of slightly glowing orange. Being Death’s apprentice/drinking buddy really was handy, especially when it came to souls. 

Wordlessly, Sam and Danny caught up to Tucker, Sam grabbing his shoulder to pull his attention away from his phone. Danny tilted his head to hide his eyes from any curious onlookers.

“Danny feels someone watching us.” Sam said in an undertone. Understanding blossomed in Tucker’s eyes and he responded in kind. 

“Plan?” Danny spoke up.

“Split up. You guys head to Fenton Works, I’ll find a dead-end alley or something. If they follow you, I’ll shadow you as Phantom. If they follow me, I’ll see what they want and possibly fight them.”

“Have you found them yet?” Tucker asked, referring to Danny’s ability to peer into people’s souls, as well as locate them. When he used it, his eyes turned orange.

“I think so. They don’t feel malicious, and they’re definitely human. They do feel… weird, though.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, and Danny shrugged.

“I dunno, their soul feels kinda… animalistic, I guess, and there’s this sort of… tingle, that I definitely don’t recognize.” Sam frowned.

“This seems dangerous, Danny, who knows who this person is?”

Danny grinned, his eyes turning back to normal.

“My whole life’s dangerous, Sam, tell me what’s new?” he shrugged and started walking down the street and away from them. “If I don’t get back to you by ‘curfew’, use the Booo-merang!

As Danny walked down the street, he fingered the pocket watch hanging around his neck by a faintly glowing toxic green string. It was a joint gift between Clockwork and Death, given to him a year ago to celebrate the end of middle school. While it looked like a green pocket watch with a glowing face, it was actually a staff, similar to Clockwork’s, both in appearance and time-magic-channeling abilities. Apparently, being someone the Master of Time likes has benefits! 

The staff could also change into a scythe, with all of the abilities of any reaper’s weapon. It certainly made summoning portals far easier, that was for sure. 

Whatever magic imbued in it was powerful stuff, considering its abilities, slight sentience, and powerful glamour, both its visual disguise and the part that hid its magical signature.

A quick check through his senses showed that the presence was still following him, and as Danny was now both far enough from Sam and Tucker, and in an area devoid of people in general, he swerved into a fairly empty alleyway and turned around, back facing the wall. No one was visible in front of him, but the feeling of being watched was still there, as was the presence. He couldn’t sense much more than that without activating Death’s power and revealing (through glowing orange eyes) that he was anything more than ordinary. 

“Hello, person who is very obviously following me. Please come out and have a civil conversation with me, or just attack already, if that’s what you’re planning. I’m a very busy person who has video games and relaxation to get to, so let’s not drag this out, hmm?”

A few seconds later, a figure stepped out from behind the overflowing dumpster near the mouth of the alleyway. Danny raised an eyebrow.

“Ummm, if you can talk or something, do so please? You’re definitely human, I can tell that much, so if you can communicate with me in a way that doesn’t involve charades, that would be nice. If you want to get back to normal, I’m probably not the best person to come to for that.” 

The figure looked somewhat shocked at his words, so he was definitely right about the human part, or at least the sentience. Still didn’t explain the fizzy aura that surrounded this person, though. The figure made a motion that looked almost like sighing, and obliged Danny’s request.

Minerva McGonagall wasn’t quite sure how she had gotten herself into this mess. She was usually the one sent to inform Muggleborns that ‘yes, magic did actually exist, and yes, they were in fact going to come to a special school and learn it,’ but that was usually when they were British 11-year-olds, not unaware, hidden-away 15-year-old Purebloods. 

This particular boy had somehow not been discovered by either the British or American magical government, due to the enormous amounts of spectral energy present in the very small town he was hidden in. The (very suspicious) lack of The Trace certainly didn’t help with tracking him down. 

And now, here she was, watching a trio of students (‘trios mean trouble’ her subconscious whispered, probably reminded by her trio of students back at Hogwarts who always seemed to find themselves in the thickest of whatever was going on) walk down the sidewalk after leaving a Muggle school while in her Animagus form, as a cat usually draws less attention then a strict-looking wizard. 

The main subject of her attention was looking more asleep by the second, until the darkly-clothed girl (Minerva approved of her clothing, it appeared far more functional than the flimsy dresses most of the other Muggle girls wore, albeit a bit revealing. She took note of the scarring, however, no one should have that many scars, much less a Muggle who didn’t face damaging curses and hexes on a near-daily basis.) gave him a little poke. 

Suddenly, the boy jolted to attention, moving less like a half-dead teenager (she had no idea how correct this fleeting thought actually was), and more like a seasoned warrior. Minerva swore his eyes even flashed bright orange for a second.

Must be an illusion, or perhaps unharnessed magic.

The boy said something to the girl, and the two caught up to the third member of their trio, and the three exchanged a few words, quietly enough that even her enhanced hearing couldn’t pick up, with all three now looking tenser, but at the same time at ease, like they knew what they were doing. (When you fight ghosts with your best friends for five years, that tends to happen)

The group split up, with the two muggles continuing on their way, while the third split off and walked away, shouting something about curfew and a ‘boomerang’, whatever that was.

Minerva leaped off her current perch (the low branch of a tree, to be exact,) and continued to follow the boy. He didn’t appear to be paying much attention to where he was going, staring blankly ahead while fingering something around his neck. 

Soon, Minerva realized that they were in an area that was almost deserted, the bright summer sun shining down onto empty backstreets and narrow alleyways. 

The boy quickly turned into one of these alleyways, and Minerva followed, darting behind a large bin and wondering what unsavory business the boy could be getting up to here.

What she was not expecting was for the boy to call her out on following him, or expecting her to attack him! Goodness sakes, his tone made it sound like he was used to people attacking him! What kind of life was this boy living? 

She looked around for other people, wondering if perhaps she wasn’t the only person following him and perhaps he had simply sensed someone less competent. 

When no one appeared, she stepped lithely out into the center of the alleyway, sitting down and staring at him. 

Now that she was closer, she could see the green ring sitting on his right hand, that in the darkness of the alleyway, almost looked like it was glowing!

Expecting him to relax, and maybe try to pet her, as most of the people who didn’t know about her other form attempted to do, she was thrown into shock when he simply raised an eyebrow and told her he knew she was a human, and asked her to communicate in any way possible, and that he wasn’t the person to come to looking for help.

She stood there for a couple seconds, absorbing this, and then sighed, dislodging herself from the haze of surprise and slight disbelief.

Slowly, she obliged the boy’s request.

Danny wasn’t sure what he was expecting when the cat sitting in front of him decided to do something, but ‘something’ certainly wasn’t shapeshift into an old-looking lady wearing a very weird dress and a witch hat. 

However, he managed to keep his slight shock from showing on his face, after all, when one was a half ghost living in a house with very very anti-ghost people with effective weaponry, you learned to be a good liar, both with words and body language. 

And, as someone who fought a variety of power-hungry dead people with crazy powers and was also king of both said dead people and the dimension they lived in, all while being a scientific anomaly probably closest to Schrodienger’s Cat, he had seen a lot of crazy and borderline-impossible things.

So, when the lady stared at him in shock and slight confusion (it wouldn’t look like it to anyone else, but when you’ve been dealing with people who’s only facial features are their eyes, (the Observants) Mister Smug Poker-Faced Fruitloop, (Vlad) and an omnipotent, omniscient being with little actual facial expression, (Clockwork), you pick up a few things about reading emotion.), all he did was put his hands in his hoodie pocket and lean back against the brick wall of the alleyway.

“How exactly did you do that?” The woman asked. British accent. Interesting. Danny shrugged.

“What, you mean sensing you? I have… very sharp senses. How’d you turn into a cat, anyways? Do you have, like, some sort of amulet that turns you into a cat when you’re mad? Seems kinda counterproductive to me, but you do you…” the woman looked really confused now. Danny: 1, Cat Lady: 0. “So, why were you following me anyway? If you wanted to talk to me, all you needed to do was ask. Heck, everyone in the town knows where I live, my family isn’t exactly…” Danny winced. “Normal. ‘Sides, if you want to hear about the ghosts, my… dad’s more of the guy to talk to. Take everything he says with a grain of salt though, not the most accurate.” 

Now the lady looked really confused.

“Ghosts?” She asked. Danny shrugged again.

“Y’know, the glowing flying things that run around causing havoc and a fair amount of property damage. Some of ‘em can shapeshift like you apparently can, but I’ve never seen someone alive with any power like that, other than a few times someone stole a ghost necklace and got turned into a dragon for a couple minutes, but that hasn’t happened in a few years. So, how exactly can you do that?” The woman was gaping by this point, but she didn’t take very long to collect herself.

“I am an Animagus, if you must know.” Danny hummed.

“Well, that sounds cool, good name. Whoever named you guys knows what they’re doing, unlike some people. Are there more of you? Please don’t tell me there’s more following me, shapeshifters are not very fun to fight. Why were you stalking me, by the way? You don’t seem evil, but appearances can be deceiving…” The woman looked taken aback by the mere suggestion that she might be evil.

“I can assure you, Daniel, that I am not evil, and that there are not any more Animagi ‘stalking’ you. They are quite rare, as it is a difficult ability for any witch or wizard to learn. As for why I am following you, that is because you, Daniel James Black, are a wizard.”

This time, it was Danny’s turn to have his mouth gaping. A wizard? Him?! He didn’t doubt the existence of such a group, considering a completely not-dead woman just shapeshifted in front of him without even apparently knowing about the existence of ghosts, added to the fact that he was definitely conscious, he knew how to recognize when Nocturne was fucking with him, thank you very much! 

“Okay, considering the fact that you just shapeshifted in front of me, and considering the multitude of other impossible things I’ve witnessed, I think I believe you about the wizard part, but my name’s Fenton, not Black. And I prefer Danny, thanks.” The woman opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped, glancing around.

“There’s no one else around, human or otherwise, if that’s what you’re wondering, Miss...” Danny piped up. The woman furrowed her brow, squinting at him, probably wondering how he knew.

“Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” She offered his hand for her to shake, and he took it, choosing his left hand in order to somewhat conceal the Ring of Rage. It was, after all, technically a magical artifact, and it would do no good for it to be recognized. “Might we continue this conversation somewhere else? This area isn’t the most…” She trailed off, looking around the dingy alleyway. “Private.” Danny nodded.

“There’s a pretty desolate park close to here. No one goes there because it’s ‘creepy and haunted’, but honestly, what in this town isn’t.”

So there Danny found himself, walking out of an alleyway next to a shapeshifting witch who insisted that he was also a wizard. As they walked, he decided to get some more information on what exactly was going on. 

“So, why’d you call me Daniel James Black, Miss McGonagall? My name’s Daniel James Fenton.” The witch gave no outward reaction to his query and answered stiffly.

“From what we have gathered, your birth father, Regulus Arcturus Black, of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,” McGonagall snorted at the name, “hid you here shortly before his death. He changed your parents' memories to make them believe that you were their son, and likely did some manner of magic to remove the Trace from you completely.” 

“The Trace?” Danny questioned. McGonagall nodded.

“The Trace detects magical activity around underage witches and wizards, so the Ministry of Magic knows when underage magic is performed. We’re still not sure exactly how it was removed from you, or why Regulus deemed it necessary.” Danny mulled over this for a moment. So he wasn’t his parents’ son, but the son of some dead guy who was apparently a wizard, and he was one too. ‘Accidental magic’ would probably explain some of the things that had happened when he was younger that were either written off or blamed on ghosts. It had pretty much stopped when he had half died, probably because exercising control over his powers had unwittingly reigned in the magic as well. He’d certainly have to talk to Clockwork, and maybe a couple other members of his ghostly family about this. McGonagall continued talking, unaware of his thoughts.

“Your lack of the Trace combined with the heightened spectral activity here, as well as the lack of knowledge regarding your location, made it very difficult to find you. Normally, at the age of 11, young witches and wizards are sent to the nearest school for magic, and if Muggleborn, informed of their magical heritage by a staff member. Purebloods and Half Bloods tend to be informed by the magical member(s) of their family.”

“Muggleborn?” Danny asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Muggles are the wizarding world’s term for non-magical folk, or at least it is in Britain.”

Danny went over what he had gathered.

“So, from what can gather, my… guardians aren’t actually my parents, and my actual parent(s) are dead, hid me here, made it borderline impossible to find me, and so I am actually from a (probably Pureblood, given the ostentatious title) magical family, am magical myself, and my father’s attempt to hide me did so well that I’ve only been found four years late. You are most likely here to recruit me for your school, -Hogwarts, was it?- that, from what I can infer, it, along with my family, is somewhere in Britain. Miss anything?” McGonagall slowly shook her head. “Didn’t think so. So, what exactly is gonna happen? Unless Britain is on a different schedule, school doesn’t start again until August.” McGonagall, seemingly still surprised at his inference and possibly acceptance of information, took a second to respond. 

“Well, first we shall inform your parents-”

“No.” Danny cut her off. “My ‘parents’ are hardly my parents. My older sister’s done all the things they should’ve, and even though I rarely spend any time at their house, they don’t even notice when I’m gone. I don’t think I’ve seen them, much less talked to them, for the past week. I definitely don’t want them knowing about the existence of magic. We’ll tell my sister and my friends.” McGonagall frowned. 

“We are bound by the International Statute of Secrecy to only inform the family of any Muggleborn witch or wizard of the existence of magic, which according to that law, you technically count as.” Danny scowled.

“My friends are my support system. No one fucks with my support system. Besides, we are very good at keeping secrets.” McGonagall frowned again, though Danny could tell he had won her over. 

“I suppose you’ll inform them regardless?” Danny nodded. “Very well, then.” Danny grinned.

“Thanks! It’ll be quicker if we meet at my house. They’re all already there by now, I’ll let them know I’m coming. D’you think you can turn into a cat again? It’ll be easier to get you into the house that way if my parents are out of the lab.” Danny pulled out his phone and texted the group chat.

Ghost: everyone meet in my room. Im bringing my stalker to explain some things.

Goth: danny what the fuck

Geek: seconded

Gabber: Danny, what on earth is going on?!

Ghost: Ill explain when we get there. Just meet in my room and don’t tell jack and maddie. I’ll be there soon. 

Ghost: oh, and sam? Can u make me some coffee, you know which kind

Danny pocketed his phone and looked down at McGonagall, who was now in cat form. 

“Cats run fast, right?” McGonagall nodded. Danny grinned. “Try to keep up, then.” 

When you spend years running away from the GIW, schoolyard bullies, and everything in between, combined with ghostly strength, you get pretty fast, even in human form. 

In no time at all, they arrived at the building code violation known as FentonWorks, complete with neon sign and UFO-like Ops Center. 

Danny looked down at McGonagall, who was staring up at the building with a mixture of wonder and disgust.

“Sure is something, isn’t it.” the cat stared at him with an expression screaming ‘you live here?!’ “I don’t hear my parents, so hopefully they’re in the lab.” Danny walked up to the door and opened it, peeking in slightly. The coast was clear. He beckoned to McGonagall and walked in.

They made their way up the stairs and towards a door covered in posters depicting stars and outer space. Danny eased open the door, revealing the two teens that had been with him earlier, as well as a tall girl with ginger hair and a turquoise headband. 

“Danny!” they all exclaimed. Sam handed Danny a rather large steaming cup, which he took gratefully, and after a large sip looked significantly more awake.

“So, where’s your stalker?” Sam asked. Danny grinned and stepped aside, revealing McGonagall. Sam raised an eyebrow. Danny leaned back and closed the door, locking it. 

“Okay, Miss McGonagall, you can turn back now.”

McGonagall obliged, making Tucker and Jazz scream, while Sam just let out a kind of strangled yelp. Danny smirked. 

“Told you.” 

His friends weren’t taking this as well as he had, that was for certain. Tucker was pinching himself and whispering ‘what the fuck’ over and over, while Sam was staring up at McGonagall with stars in her eyes. Jazz looked fairly catatonic. Danny chuckled under his breath and snapped to get everyone’s attention. Once he had it, he began to explain.

“So you’re saying that my brother isn’t actually my brother, and in fact a member of an ancient wizarding family, and is in fact a wizard himself?!” McGonagall nodded. Jazz sat down on her bed and clasped her hands in front of her face. “Okay, ghosts exist, they have magic, so why can’t living people?! That’s not too far fetched, right?!” She muttered, trying to fit this information into her current worldview.

McGonagall, who was currently sitting on Danny’s desk chair looking vaguely uncomfortable, stood up. 

“You currently have two options. Start Hogwarts with the first years, even though you are fifteen, or spend the summer catching up on five years of work.”

“The second option, obviously.” Danny butted in. McGonagall nodded. 

“Very well. Pack your luggage, I will be here tomorrow to bring you shopping for the necessary items. You will spend the rest of the summer in London with a variety of people, including a couple of your fellow students and your uncle, Sirius Black. I will be here at noon. Farewell.” She disappeared with a sharp crack. Everyone jumped. 

Danny looked around.

“So, whaddya say we spend the next 12 hours at the Ghost Writer’s library and look up everything we can on wizards?” Everyone nodded. “Tucker, would you do the honors?” Tucker nodded, already doing something on his phone. 

“Five, four, three, two-” 

A racket resounded from downstairs. Tucker grinned. “One.” 

As soon as the noise ceased, and a quick glimpse out the window showed the ‘Fenton Family Ghost Attack Vehicle’ zooming haphazardly down the street away from the house, the group left Danny’s room and darted downstairs to the basement. Quickly, all but one piled into the Specter Speeder, the one being Danny, who pushed his thumb onto the DNA lock on the portal door and went ghost, escorting the large vehicle through the portal. With a push of one of the many buttons on the Speeder’s console, the portal closed with a SLAM. 

They pulled up the Ghost Zone map on the dashboard, (locked, of course, so Jack and Maddie couldn’t access it), and made their way to the massive book-filled lair of the Ghost Writer.