Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Danny Phantom.

Speech indicating communication between spectral entities will be underlined like so.

LINE BREAK

I flew, the purple doors flitting past me as blurs going unheeded. I had long since lost a concept of where I was in this malevolent green void that was the Ghost Zone, save for my proximity to my tenacious pursuer and the deadly ecto-blasts he shot after me.

Honestly, I had no clue what had happened to set off this hunt, where I am unfortunately the hunted. Let's go back a little, shall we? I had just been coming back from visiting the Far Frozen for further training in my ice powers when something collided suddenly with my side, sending lances of pain stabbing through my body. Looking back I was greeted with the sight of an unfamiliar ghost, all green and writhing and sadistic. I had started running (or rather flying) away immediately after I recovered from the initial attack so its image wasn't too clear in my mind (especially in my current state of panic), but its smoldering red eyes were maniacal and its grossly overgrown snake-fanged sneer still sticks with me, chilling my ectoplasmic blood.

Now back to the present situation; it continued after me, a ghostly wind shrieking in agony at its wake and adding to the beat of what passed as my ghostly heart in my ears to send me into an even more furious, desperate flight. My nerves were shot and I could feel adrenaline pulsing through my body like a mad parade that had lost all control and broke loose.

I was quickly becoming fatigued; all measure of time long lost. Although I had come a long way since the first attack, I could fly very fast if I wanted to and this enemy was pushing me past my limits in the raw primal instincts to flee, to get away from something that threatened my existence and probably more. So when a dark rip in the endless green, pinpricks of iridescent white lights like distant stars shuddering and drifting in its being right in front of me, I did not dare to change direction and take a moment to slow down. I charged through the tear in the Ghost Zone without heed of what it may be or where it could lead to, having felt no malice from it like the malevolence that rolled off of my hunter like waves.

A cold breeze carrying musty smells and a cacophony of hesitant chirps and rustlings hit me in the face and ruffled by tussled hair like svelte fingers hit me full in the face as I fell, and I could perceive my knees dropping to and my gloved fingers curling into loamy soil. I heard a sibilant shriek of rage behind me alongside a sound like a zipper being pulled around, and I turned around to see nothing.

No, not nothing, but certainly no unnatural portal revealing a world of acidic deathly green and an evil out for me. Just a lot of very tall trees and some limp foliage, along with eyes. Dozens of pairs of them.

I felt my adrenaline starting to ebb away as fatigue overcame me. Spots rapidly danced over my vision, rapidly coalescing until everything went dark.

LINE BREAK

I was slowly coming into consciousness, as tendrils of awareness started connecting me to my surroundings in all senses but sight. Ugh, did anyone get the license plate of the truck that hit me? I felt battered and sore all over, while heat pulsed thickly from a spot under my ribs. Oddly enough though, it felt like something cool had been placed over it, and was a relief against the painful sensation.

Too wiped out to do anything, I was determined to just lie there. The ground was comfy and the air smelled good. Brisk and earthy, it was both relaxing and vivify.

Wait, ground? Had I passed out after another ghost fight again? What had I been . . .?

The memory of the chase came back to me in full emotional clarity, even if the actual events that had transpired were fuzzy from the fact that I really had not been paying attention to anything but escaping so that I could live. I still don't even know why I reacted so strongly to that ghost; it just felt evil.

Something huffed very close behind me, its warm breath going through my hair and bringing a bad smell – carnivore – to my nostrils. That was more than enough to inform me that I had to get up and get a bearing on my surroundings and situation, now.

I snapped up into a sitting position, a low hiss escaping between my clenched teeth. Ow! My side! My opposing hand immediately moved to the offending area, and after the pain subsided quickly to a dull throb once more I removed it to bring it to my face. It was covered in my blood – that must mean I'm in human form again, although I can see the faint green glow that it has – and a strange green paste, sticky and thick to the touch, with what were definitely chewed up leaves of some sort giving it a lumpy texture.

Wait, chewed up leaves? Ew . . . did that mean that someone's saliva was against my wound? So not cool!

"Calm yourself, colt. It will do no good to overexcite yourself." A voice said. Only it wasn't really a voice, it was a slight warbling sound that I recognized to be this ghost's form of ghost-speech. Every ghost kind had its own special speech that only spectral entities could understand; although it was notable that the humanoid ghosts typically preferred to speak in human languages. So Dad's Ghost Gabber wasn't so useless after all – although I still hate the thing.

Oh . . . crap! My family and friends! How long have I been gone? Are they worried? What if they think that I've run away or am dead?

I felt like freaking out, but forced myself to calm down and shove my concern for it into the back of my mind for now. Freaking out wouldn't do anything, and I had more important things to do before.

Such as direct my attention to this ghost before me . . . which was staring down at me with a bemused expression, its reptilian-like equine head cocked to the side and its pearlescent eyes fixated on me. They had no irises or pupils, or maybe they were entirely irises. Creepy, but that was common among ghosts. However, the color and the fact that this ghost lacked a glow . . . not so much. In fact, it wasn't even floating.

"Err, what are you?" I blurted out, and watched warily as some of the other ghost-creatures came in closer, making the circle they had formed tighter. None of them looked like your average ghost either.

The reptile-horse-ghost-thing continued staring at me, and I realized it may not be able to understand English.

"Err, what are you?" I repeated, this time in my own ghost-speech. I really didn't like speaking like this and would avoid doing so in front of my friends. It just seemed to be one more thing to make me inhuman, the unearthly soft wail, like those maudlin cries you sometimes hear lamenting ghosts as they are portrayed in movies and video games issuing.

"I am a thestral, as the wand-bearing humans around these parts know us as. Even among our kind – not quite ghost, but of kin – in a world foreign to yours you are well-known, young Phantom." The ghost-that-was-actually-not-a-ghost – a thestral, it had called its kind – said. Great, it seemed like for every question I had answered three more questions rose up from them.

"Wands? What do you mean, a world foreign to mine. And what are you if not a ghost?" The questions spouted from the tip of my tongue, rattled off without hesitation. I recognized that I was perhaps being rude, but in my opinion I had every right to want to know these things right now!

"Yes, you have come through Martyr's Gateway. My kind was once ghosts. We were led on an exodus from the Ghost Zone to here. Overtime, our offspring became less connected to the Ghost Zone, until we became mortal, or as close to it as we may come. This is a world that is typically connected to the Ghost Zone as a one-way entrance into the latter. For you to have come here through Martyr's Gateway must mean you were in dire need. As for wands, those would be a conduit through which the wizards and witches of this world work their magic. In fact, we are very much near a castle of their kind." The thestral rattled off, and I stared blankly as I tried to take everything in. I decided that knowing what Martyr's Gateway was would probably be important for when trying to get home, but honestly didn't want to return anytime soon, for I was still rattled by that strange ghost's assault. I suppose the whole ghostly-while-not-ghosts thing would make sense, if they were born and in the living realm. I would have to ask Frostbite about that, surely he would know.

But the last thing totally caught me off-guard, and my mouth was left open in an 'o' shape as I finally processed it.

"We're near a castle of witches? An entire castle!" I exclaimed. That did not sound safe!

The thestrals' ears flattened against their thin heads. Realizing that they did not understand me, I returned to ghost-speech.

"A castle of witches? As in, turn you into a toad and brew potions?" I said, keeping my voice quieter so as not to upset the strange, not-fully-living creatures that I found myself in the presence of. They seemed nice, were answering questions, and their teeth looked sharp. Definitely carnivores.

"Well, yes, they can do those things." The thestral said. Although its facial features were nowhere near human, I got the distinct feeling that it was amused.

"Are there no other humans around besides them?" I asked desperately. I was at least hoping to get to civilization.

The thestral shook its head in the negative.

Great. Just great.

"Err, I hate to impose," and I really did hate this, but mostly because of the fact that I was not in my world and had to ask such a thing, "but could I stay with you and your . . . people? Just until I can return to my home?"

"The halfa, running with our herd! It would be an honor."

The other thestrals seemed equally pleased, the excitable ones whooping and prancing about.

"Call me Danny." I said, and couldn't help the faint smile that tugged at my lips. Here were creatures that were not-quite-living like me (although quite different), and were actually glad to have me around. What with most people I knew in my life as Danny Fenton ignoring, shunning, or harassing me, and the ghosts causing me problems or just plain trying to end my existence, it was definitely a nice change.

"I am Tete the Leader."

And so it was that I would come to live with a herd of strange winged reptilian horses who I would later find out only those that had seen death could see, in a dank forest filled with deadly creatures next to a castle of magical people. All in a world that I wasn't even native to.

Could my half-life get any stranger?

LINE BREAK

Author's Note: I love reviews, and would really like to read what you think about the story so far (nice or not) and receive critique. Should I continue writing this and which Harry Potter book do you guys think this should take place in? How do you think I did with Danny's first-person point of view? Also, if I get anything wrong please correct me!