Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – Danny Phantom and the Magic of Ages

By WarriorLoverInc

Chapter 1: Kidnapped

The boy glanced between the smoking ruins of the mailbox to the strangely garbed person before him. That stick… it had almost hit him!

"Hey!" he shouted incensedly at the black robed man(?), "Watch where you're aiming that thing! You could really hurt someone!"

There was a soft growl from his hidden face, "That would be the point." This boy is strange, he watched the black haired child examine what was left of the metal blue-painted Muggle device. He wasn't panicking even though he was faced with magic—which he couldn't have possibly heard of before—in fact, he seemed to be more worried about the destroyed mailbox than the dangerous wand-wielding stranger contemplating him. The man(?) tensed as the boy turned his icy blue eyes upon him, the situation just seeming to catching up with him.

"You…" he said slowly, "what was that? That red light that came out of that… stick?" he gestured to the black highly-polished wand clutched tightly in the robed mans(?) outstretched arm.

Suddenly, the boys' breath became a crystallized misty cloud before him and he flinched, seeming to expect something any moment. Thoroughly confused, the "stick-man" considered the conditions; they were standing on the sidewalk through a deserted city center park in the sweltering summer heat, it shouldn't be possible to see ones breath. Normally. But he had enough experience in things that would not be considered normal to most the world to brush off abnormalities such as this. He was no Muggle after all; he wasn't an ignorant, unworthy little—

"I AM THE BOX GHOOOOOOST!"

The floating, blue-glowing man just appeared out of nowhere, facing the T-shirt and jeans clad boy, arms raised, looking strange… and pathetic.

"Avada Kedavera!"

The annoyance disappeared with the green ray of the deadly curse and a surprised yelp. It obviously had not anticipated being attacked from behind.

The boy blinked, and quickly dropped the tension he had held, only to become even tenser when the man moved and pointed his wand at him.

Narrowing his eyes and speaking in a very clear voice with a danger hint to the edge, he asked who he was, what he was doing and what the man was playing at. When the cloaked figure didn't reply, without missing a beat the boy gathered what seemed to be a ball of green energy in his hand, and threw it at him(?).

Intrigued, the man merely stepped aside and the shot missed completely. Whipping up his wand, "Crucio!"

The boy abruptly dropped to the ground convulsing in spasms of pain. Though his eyes were shut tight, and he was silently screaming, the man didn't let up until a whole minute had passed. Who needed heavy iron maidens, knives, or spiked cuffs when you had the Cruciatus Curse, one of the most painful torture devices ever, one of the three Unforgivable Curses.

Ceasing the spell and striding over to him, he promptly slung the unconscious boy over his shoulder and Disapparated.

…

He read the brochure again. It had sickly neon colors that caught the eye, and one could tell it was a cheap travel leaflet with just a glance. "ONE OF THE MOST HAUNTED CITIES IN AMERICA!" it boasted. There was a map sporting bright red dots indicating supernatural hot-spots across the city. One of them, he noticed, was a Muggle school… strange. Opening to the first page, he skimmed the list of "Most Haunted Places"; the mayors' mansion, certain streets, Casper High School, a local museum. The next page held some of the profiles of frequent ghosts, informing the reader of interesting details, names and hang-outs to name a few.

Giving a slight sickly cough that was followed by a wheezing frown, he wondered how these Muggles knew of the existence of ghosts, why the Ministry hadn't done anything and most of all—he skimmed some of the brochures pictures—why these ghosts seemed corporeal. His somewhat existent brow furrowed, his servant should be arriving any minute now with the report on the anomaly city, "AMITY PARK" according to the brochure.

Suddenly, the fire before him flared to life, morning-orange flames roaring heatedly. They illuminated the dark, dank, dusty room, throwing long shadows over the rotting floor-boards and the figure standing behind his high-backed chair. The cloaked figure dumped a bundle to the side and knelt to one knee, "My Lord…" he reverently addressed the thing in the chair.

A snake curled around the legs of the armchair hssssed violently, raising its head to the intruder of its sleep. But at a sound from the chair, it relaxed its head and settled on fixing the kneeling figure with its creepy stare.

"You may rise," a breathy voice told from within the seats cushions.

The figure stood. "Wormtail!" the voice called.

A gaunt man with a stout body and thin pointed nose timidly scurried out of a shadowed corner, "Ye—yes my Lord?"

"Bring a chair for our guest." He gestured to the bundle the cloaked man had left on the floor. Being in the shadow of his chair, it was too dark to quite distinguish what or who it was.

Wormtail jumped to it and soon was dragging a plain wooden chair across the room, placing it with one side to the fire, and one to the high-backed chair. The thing distantly heard Wormtail's struggles to get the "guest" into the chair as he continued to examine the brochure, there were two pages dedicated to a single ghost who seemed to be the city's main attraction. "DANNY PHANTOM!" it read across the top, "AMITY PARK'S MOST MALEVOLANT GHOST!" A few pictures and some text told that this "Danny Phantom" fought ghosts almost on a daily basis, and caused immense property damage and mass panic on some occasions.

Is it a poltergeist? He wondered. Looking up from his reading, he noticed Wormtail had their "guest" firmly roped to the chair.

"Obscuro." He muttered. A black blindfold pulled itself across the boys face out of nowhere.

"Should I awake him?" the man asked the creature in the chair.

Nodding slowly, it replied, "yessss…"

The man pointed his black polished wand at the boy's lolled head and said, "Rennervate."

The chair rocked as the boy viciously started awake and began frantically trying to see what was around, obviously hindered by the blindfold. The masked man lowered his wand; from his place next to the armchair, he glanced at Wormtail—who had scurried again into his corner—then back at the boy.

"Wh—where am I?" the captive was frantically trying to free his arms, "Who's there?" he was by no means calm.

"You may take care of the interrogation." The thing told the cloaked man.

He bowed slightly in response and took a step forward. The boy growled loudly, surprising the man slightly, he had honed detection skills if he could tell an enemy may be coming closer. Circling around behind him, the tip of his wand found itself against the boys' neck.

The boy gave a nervous gulp, "Heh, gonna' threaten me with a stick?"

If the mask were not in place, one could've seen the man's sly grin, "Yes I will Daniel Fenton. I think you remember what that stick did last time."

"Daniel" stayed silent, whether it be from the painful memories or the shock of an unknown stranger knowing his name.

"Would you prefer I call you Danny? Such a Muggle name…" he gripped his wand tighter, "we have a few questions for the son of the two most prestigious ghost experts in America." He leaned in next to his ear, "And you are answering them." He said in a low dangerous voice.

Danny scoffed, his untidy black hair whipping around his face as he turned his head towards the voice, "And what if I don't?"

The man grinned under his mask, "Then I'll be having some fun, and you'll be in for a world of hurt you never knew exist."

Stoning his face, he concentrated on his spell. I created it myself, he thought; let's see how it holds up.

Odd strings of white-black light seeped through the tip of his wand and into the Muggle child's body, traveling through his veins and making them glow with the same luminescence. Grinning, he sharply pulled his wand away from Danny's neck and was pleased to hear a strangled gasp escape the boy.

"I've been told it feels like someone ripping out your innards… depending on how hard I pull." The wand touched the now panting boys' neck again, the light swirling angrily through his veins, "This is only one spell in my arsenal."

The creature in the chair looked on approvingly, and Wormtail in the corner whimpered quietly.

"Now," the cloaked figure said over the hissing of the huge snake, "let us begin…"

….

Authors Note: Hello! New story! I recently started reading Harry Potter, I've made my librarians jaw drop, I have read up to book four in a single week (but c'mon! It's not that hard!) Anyway, I've read some HP DP crossovers here and wanted to add my own to the arsenal. Anything I take directly from the book (Book Four, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) I'll enclose with these - **, and put the page number(s) and book after.

Make that cloaked figure be who you want it to be, I'm going to be taking a lot of creative liberties so just work with me here.

I know, I know. I should be working on my other stories. *Grumbles* But Review please anyway. I have a poll on my profile so vote for the story you want me to update the most.

Until next chapter,

Ciao!