Disclaimer: I own neither Harry Potter nor Danny Phantom

TO BE HONEST I WROTE THIS YEARS AGO AND TOTALLY FORGOT TO UPLOAD IT. So now I'm not even editing it because it needs to go up. Heck, I'm not even looking at it because the writing makes me cringe. Also, I'm planning to eventually revise and continue some of my old stories, and this is among those ones.

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My gasp at the sight of Hogwarts was echoed by those of the first years making the journey alongside me. I had seen it before when skulking about the fringes of the forest, but never like this. It was as if somebody had relocated it straight out of a fairytale and plopped it down here. While it was dark outside, the castle's windows shone a warm orange, and the myriad lights touched upon the lake's inky surface like stars in an earthbound swatch of night sky.

As it was dark and the actual castle itself difficult to make out even with my better-than-human night-vision, I cupped my hands around my eyes and shuffled closer to the bow of the rowboat, allowing my ghost half to leak through my eyes – turning them a glowing green – to further enhance my vision in the dark.

Hagrid had heard my gasp and chuckled as he smiled fondly at Hogwarts. While I'm sure he doesn't quite trust me yet (even though he doesn't necessarily seem wary), I think he's started to warm up to me.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" he asked me.

I just nodded. I had seen examples of castles both earthly and spectral, but none of them had this kind of magical presence.

Judging by Hagrid's tone of voice, he must really care about the place to take such pride in it, much like how a person takes pride in family. Once again I'm reminded of dad; no matter how much of a screw-up we are (read: me), he still doesn't let that affect his love and pride for his family and friends. I decided that I would hold my tongue around Hagrid if I found anything to criticize about Hogwarts, even if it does have the stupidest name ever.

After a while watching the encroaching castle lost its novelty and I started taking in the rest of my surroundings. Lake, sky, other rowboats. There really wasn't much to see, even if the sight of the stars was breathtaking here (but I'd had quite some time of ventures at night to get used to them). The kids were interesting enough to watch, though.

Some of them were huddled together in their groups of four in the boats, probably getting to know one another, or at the very least seeking warmth. Others were fixated on the castle, much as I had been before the wonder of seeing it from this new perspective wore off. There were also those who were leaning a bit too close towards the water, as if to reach out and touch the glassy surface. I noticed that a lot of them were shooting me glances though, and I didn't blame them. I was the only one older than any of them save for Hagrid, and unlike the giant I was clearly not part of the faculty.

Ducking beneath a curtain of ivy concealing a rocky overhanging, we reached some underground docks and disembarked, slipping on the slick stone and up a flight of stairs until we reached an antechamber of considerable size. Despite the thick stone of the walls and wood of the doors I could hear countless babbling voices forming a susurrus from behind the shut double-doors that were one of only a few exits, the way we came from included. The rest of the students were probably just beyond.

I remained expectantly at Hagrid's side, knowing he would sort my situation out and not particularly caring to mingle with children younger than me.

I didn't have to wait long for something to happen, since only a few moments later a prim-looking witch strode through the doors, which opened effortlessly (scratch that – with nobody moving them!) before her. Craning my neck to the side, I could just catch a glimpse of a vast, bright-lit room and a stage through the doors behind her. Her gaze roved over the first years and alighted for a moment upon me. I involuntarily tensed, worried that I had fallen on the bad side of such a stern-seeming woman already; I have a way of making adults dislike me just with my existing, it feels like. Her nose flared and lips thinned with disapproval (I suppose I deserve that with the state I'm in), but to my relief she did not linger on my appearance, instead turning to my giant companion.

"The first years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid stated the obvious, receiving a nod.

"Very well then. The headmaster will meet with you and our young guest in his office after the feast. He has informed me to tell you that refreshments await the both of you there," the witch replied before taking control of the pre-adolescents from Hagrid. Despite how unruly the kids had seemed she managed to organize them single-file and march out onto the stage in a matter of seconds with terseness to her commands. I almost snickered at the panicked expressions of the first years, resisting the urge due to sympathy. Whoever decided that they had to be presented in front of the rest of the school – all upper years at that – was cruel without doubt.

Hagrid clapped a dustbin lid-sized hand on one of my shoulders, causing my legs to nearly buckle under the surprise force (and while I could probably carry several Hagrids in my ghost form, my human form's strength when not consciously bolstered with ectoplasm is only remarkable for a human of my size).

"Right! I'll just take you to the headmaster's office, then," said Hagrid boisterously as he led me through the only small door, ducking his head so that it only just grazed the top of the doorway. It was ironic, that such a plain door was what marked the entrance of my first true exposure to the magical world. Sure, I had seen giant spiders, centaurs, and objects that moved on their own, but none of those were that special; especially for someone who lived in Amity Park and was half-ghost of all things themselves.

I think that my neck was going to fall off if I kept jerking it every which way. Hagrid takes really long strides, meaning that I have to jog to keep up while trying to take in the decorations in the halls. There were moving, talking paintings! Some even called out greetings, and they seemed sentient. Were they actual people stuck inside the paintings?

"Nah, just some charms and enchanted paint," he answered, and I could have buried my head in my hands when I realized that I had asked that question aloud.

We continued in this fashion, and during this time I picked up a healthy wariness of suits of armor (ones with armor, that is), when I noticed that their helmets followed me. It was creepy, and I've possessed objects before, so I know it isn't a ghost (not that my ghost sense remaining dormant didn't give it away). These magic people sure like their should-be-inanimate objects to display traits of uncanny consciousness, don't they?

Surprisingly though, despite the old architecture and furnishings the place was kind of normal. Sneaking peeks into rooms that we passed showed that most were used for storage, a typical classroom (albeit without any technology, but I'd already noticed that these wizards and witches don't seem to use anything modern), or set up like a college lecture hall.

Seeing all these reminders of school makes me want to go back to the forest.

Hagrid and I were just heading up a large marble staircase when it shuddered beneath us. Reflexively I clutched at the banister and metaphysically reached for my core. I felt the cool essence of my ghostly nature roll like fog through my blood, making me feel safer.

"Ah, should've warned you, I should have! Not to worry, the staircases do this from time to time," Hagrid informed me, chuckling at what I assume was my expression as I looked around at him, his wild beard not quite hiding a smile. I scowled and turned back to poke my head over the side, looking down at the floor as we moved over it. As far as I could tell there was absolutely no reason why the stairs should be moving.

Magic.

Really, who would make stairs that move at seemingly random? That's just impractical. What's even more mindboggling is that these wizards don't even see the problem with that! They just nonchalantly accept flaws in design and go along with the flow?

I don't know whether to applaud them or be scared of how sane they may or may not be. Maybe both.

If I end up staying here though it'd be cool to check the place out in my ghost form. I have a feeling that this brief walk, my only exposure to this new world, hasn't even scratched the surface of what it holds. It's kind of scary, not having a clue as to what these people can do with magic, but I suppose at least they don't know about my ghost powers.

The stairs came to a halt and I wasted no time in getting off them. Although walking much less hurriedly, with how large he was Hagrid reached the next floor at roughly the same time I did, only to overtake me in his guiding. Not knowing where I was going I had no objection to that, stepping quickly to keep pace and hoping that I didn't look like an idiot to anyone watching. I might have discounted this, had there not been any paintings. The walls literally have eyes and ears in the form of those things! The implications are pretty damn disturbing.

I was kind of starting to wonder if we were ever going to reach the headmaster's office, since I'm pretty sure this castle has no respect for conventional bounds in terms of space. I know for a fact that a lot of the rooms and hallways can't exist when setup the way they are in relation to one another, and some of them just plain shouldn't exist.

Actually, it reminds me a little of the Ghost Zone, just less freaky and otherworldly. Hogwarts' coloring is also easier on the eyes. The castle is also probably less likely to mutilate or kill me, and I'm certainly not complaining about that.

Finally we stopped . . . in front of a grotesque (I always thought they were gargoyles, but according to Sam the statues are grotesques and apparently gargoyles are just waterspouts). Aren't those things supposed to be outside of castles, not inside?

"Err . . . Hagrid?" I asked as he said something I didn't quite catch, failing after a moment of searching to figure out what to call him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Nevermind." The grotesque had just moved from its original place, revealing a spiral staircase.

"Headmaster Dumbledore's office is right up here."

Taking a deep breath, I followed after Hagrid. With nary a jolt, the staircase glided into motion, and the similarity to an escalator, something that I was familiar with and associated with malls instead of magical schools, almost settled my nerves.

A/N: In the next chapter, probably, Danny is going to realize just how much of a fish out of water he is, considering that he is only just starting to grasp the concept that this is an entirely new culture.