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Chapter Text

Remus sat down and heaved a sigh.

It had been a long day. Most of his days were like that now, but just because he was subjected to such days didn't mean he had to like them.

He walked over to his cupboard and pulled out a small glass, and a bottle of Firewhisky, assuring himself that he needed it. He moved the chair with his foot and sat himself down once more, this time at his own barren dining table.

His house was not large; he could not afford it to be. But his bare essentials were adequate enough to help him survive. He took a sip of the burning liquid and looked towards the ceiling.

This had been a year of trial and much error. The blasted Triwizard tournament had thrown Remus for a loop, as it had for Sirius and Dumbledore and damn near everyone else in the wizarding world. Many, as Remus had expected, took it in very much the wrong light.

He sighed once more. Poor Cedric. Poor Harry. Remus strongly believed that the boy had a magnet somewhere in his body that called to trouble, and it went by the name of Voldemort.

To be truthful, Sirius, Remus' own personal trouble magnet, wasn't much better.

Dumbledore had suggested that selected members of the Order would pick Harry up near the end of the summer. Remus would be among them, and he was secretly very excited and worried at the same time. He knew the Dursleys, and he remembered how much he had disliked Petunia. Harry's descriptions of the family currently didn't give Remus any motivation to warm up to them.

He was about to take another sip of alcohol when his fire erupted in a small burst of green flame and Albus Dumbledore stepped out of his hearth.

"Albus!" Remus exclaimed, upsetting his drink and his chair as he stood up hastily. "What on earth- I'm sorry," he stopped and collected himself. "What brings you to my humble abode?" he asked his previous Headmaster. There was a slight trace of sardonic tone laced between the last two words of his sentence, but if you didn't know Remus, it would have been missed completely.

"I am sorry to trouble you so late," Albus said in his usual pleasant tone. "But something of deep interest has come to my attention, and I wish very much to discuss it with you." His twinkling ice blue eyes shone even in the half-light of the now dying fire, "And I'm glad you weren't at Grimmauld Place tonight, as this was a private matter." Remus blinked in surprise while his face allowed nothing.

"Of course," he said courteously, and waved a hand in the direction of the seat in front of him. "Please have a seat," he continued, waving a wand to clean away his glass and right the chair he had previously toppled.

Dumbledore merely nodded and made his way over to sit. Remus had remembered discussing with Sirius on a night not too long ago, how much they could love and hate a man such as Albus Dumbledore. Sirius had needed to vent about his practical entrapment inside a house he had hoped to never see again, and Remus was somewhat disturbed by Dumbledore's actions towards Harry. The old wizard was acting like there was something to hide, and Remus had learned by now to trust his instincts.

"What is it you wanted to speak to me about?" Remus asked as he sat down himself, shaking his head slightly to clear it of worries.

"How much do you know of ghosts?" Dumbledore asked in a gentle voice.

Remus paused and then smiled wearily. "Metaphorical or literal?" he asked in return.

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to be full of understanding, but he smiled. "Literal, in this case."

"Then I have to say that I know only what I have been taught," Remus told him, his voice warmer than it had been before. "That they are manifestations of post-human consciousness and soul, fueled by their very human need to finish what they started." He paused to think and continued after a beat. "They are also mostly made of substance called phasmatis cruor or 'ectoplasm' by muggles, which is also a substance that is found, untapped, in a living human body. I confess to having read muggle works on the subject, albeit infrequently." He paused once more and then tilted his head. "Why ask me? I'm not exactly an expert."

Albus merely nodded and smiled. "I believe we may have found a ghost that is as strong as any powerful wizard, and certainly more powerful than the common spirit," he said, avoiding Remus' question with practiced ease.

Remus raised a solitary eyebrow. "A ghost as powerful in spirit as any wizard?"

"Indeed," Albus confirmed.

"And is he malevolent?" asked Remus, his voice betraying his curiosity.

"Not that my sources have been able to tell," Albus said with a calm sober voice.

Remus was still confused. "Forgive me Albus," he said, "I'm still slightly at a loss to understand why you have contacted me, of all people."

Albus simply smiled in an enigmatic manner. "I need you to go find him."

Remus felt his brain stumble a bit before he collected what had spilled out and readjusted himself. "Pardon?" he asked his pitch incredulous.

"I know you feel you are needed here," Dumbledore continued seriously, "and I know that Sirius feels the same way. But you are the only man I know who would find this task vital and treat it as such." He looked at Remus' disbelieving expression and sighed, finding it difficult to pull him away from the Order's main objective as well. "And I know Harry means quite a lot to you, especially now…but you must understand. This ghost may help us, and its connection to the spirit world may aid us in our battles to come."

Feeling pole-axed, Remus slumped into his chair. "This is quite a difficult task Albus," he said at last. "Where would I find a wandering spirit, and since when do ghosts help the living?"

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. "I have the strong suspicion that this ghost may be able to recreate a completely solid form in the living realm."

Remus stilled at this. He looked Dumbledore in the eye. "I thought that was a trait singled out for the most malevolent," he paused, thinking of Peeves, "or the most stubborn and annoying of ghosts."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore responded mysteriously. "I know of no other Order member for this task," he said, changing track, "And any other that could take your place would be noticed missing from the ranks of the Ministry."

Remus nodded after what seemed like an eternity. "Mundungus certainly wouldn't find this to be in his usual tastes, as far as missions go," he said at last, allowing himself a tired grin. It didn't last long as his features fell into a frown. "I still don't know where I would start to look, Albus."

"That is one trouble you won't have to worry about my friend," Albus said, smiling in what looked like relief, although with the old man, you would never be able to tell.

"You already know where he resides?" asked Remus in surprise.

"I have wonderfully reliable sources," Dumbledore said, the familiar twinkle appearing in his eyes.

Remus stood and paced over to his sink. He turned around and smiled back, not really being able to help himself. "Where?" he asked.

"In America," said Dumbledore, his own quiet incredulity surfacing a little. "In retrospect, I must admit my regrets in not visiting the country as much as I should have," he said as if speaking his thoughts aloud.

America! Remus reflected to himself. "I have never been there myself," said Remus, doubt starting to creep back into his voice. "I honestly don't know anything about their magical system or their etiquette."

"It is much like ours," Albus assured before a frown crept onto his ancient features. "However, they are much more selective about distribution of power."

"How so?" Remus questioned.

"Young witches or wizards sometimes stay undiscovered, usually due to the fact that their talents may remain undetected due to a supposed 'lack' of potential power. Unfortunately, they are left untaught and untrained for quite a long time, sometimes forever."

Remus could only blink furiously. "How do they get away with such neglect?" he asked, a bit angry at this.

Albus sighed and looked more like the old man he was. "As I said, the American equivalent of our own Ministry only considers a child a witch or wizard if their power levels reach their standards." He shook his head. "Anything below that standard is considered irrelevant, and quite frankly, useless to them."

Remus was surprised to hear that their system of discovering new witches and wizards was so archaic, not to mention disastrously bigoted.

"That is really the only difference, though its singularity does not outweigh its potential consequences," Albus continued. "I urge you to help me in this Remus," Dumbledore stood as he said this, and moved toward the fire place. "You may find more than we were looking for, and as such we may be able to help rather than hurt."

Remus heard Albus with great clarity. "I understand," he voiced into the ringing silence. Albus turned to look Remus in the eye and smiled sincerely as he put a foot into the hearth.

"I am glad."

Getting over to the United States was not exactly as easy as he had hoped.

With the wards ensuring a mandatory customs check, which was a security measure that the British Ministry had also employed, American borders seemed very secure. But the Americans turned out to be quite paranoid. They had searched him over and over, checking for potential spells and other potions that could possibly be set off once on American soil. They hardly noticed that Lupin himself was a potential disaster on a full moon. When he did mention it, as he felt obligated to warn them, they waved it off. Remus was surprised at that.

"It hardly counts…everyone knows that werewolves can't help it," said the sympathetic lady officer he met after he had Apparated into the American Government of Sorcery's international visitor section. "If we considered them a threat, we would have depleted and alienated a large group of our own citizens, and how does that help us?"

"Not at all," Remus supplied as he gathered his robe and his small batch of luggage.

"Right," she said smiling. "You're clear to go Mr. Lupin."

"Thank you," he said in return, his smile visible to most anyone who had eyes.

As he walked out of the building and into the humid heat of Washington D.C.'s air, Lupin contemplated his mission for what seemed like the thousandth time. He remembered Sirius' reaction and winced. It wasn't an explosive protest, which he had feared it might have been. It was more of a defeated sulk, which still left Remus feeling even more guilty than usual.

Dumbledore had given him a small book before he left. Called The Lost Spells of Domesius, it was a collection of ancient incantations; very old magic that needed the user to go through a series of movements and required a strong focus over their wandless, or natural, magic. It was raw and sometimes dangerous, as the consequences of ill-use were either disastrous or lethal. Remus had been perplexed at such a gift, but Albus continued on to warn him that America was a land of tradition (they were still playing catch up, in some ways), and as such, magic followed. The most influential and powerful spells were still to this day, incantations. Not many used them anymore, Dumbledore admitted that much, but there were a few that would undoubtedly come in use. And they would be the most effective.

Remus immediately found a spot in a nearby park to read the small book. He flipped through the pages, feeling his more scholarly instincts take over with unrestrained glee. It was very old, and most of the incantations were faded, albeit still readable. All of them were in Latin, and thankfully, unlike the muggles of the world, Remus knew the dead language wasn't really dead in the wizarding world.

Most of the incantations were truly old magic, probably too powerful to use for the simple doings of day to day life, or at least the temporary. After a thorough search, Remus eventually found what he was looking for.

He found himself standing inside a dark room at a small motel on the city limits. The sun had set just previously, and the last tendrils of twilight clung desperately to the horizon. Remus found no shame in going to a Safeway and buying candles for a serious magical event, although he knew that if anyone found out, he would be laughed out of a room.

He had found what was simply called A Finding Spell or in Latin, Reperio Incantate . It was very much like a Point Me spell that one often did with a wand, but much more powerful. Unfortunately for Remus, he didn't know what his quarry looked like, much less who it was, or what its personality was like. A Point Me spell required all of the above, and Remus quietly realized why Albus had given him the book in the first place.

He had set up the seven candles in what seemed like a triangle with a square inside of it. He focused on what Albus had told him, concentrating on the ghost he was trying to find and pulling out adjectives that he had heard the old wizard use: extremely powerful, skilled, ghost, spirit, unique, magic, and various other synonyms. Drawing a circle within the square, and feeling incredibly old-fashioned, he lit the candles and held out the book to read from.

" Incendia undaeque exurent,

(Fire burn and water run,)

sub luna, sol subter,

('neath the moon and 'neath the sun,)

Questens , quaerens, gere ut invenire,

(Seeking, searching, bear to find,)

In pectus et per mens.

(In the heart and through the mind.)"

The room seemed to darken and warp a bit, and Remus kept his focus, feeling sweat begin to form on his forehead. When he finished reciting, the candles went out as one, and the smoke twisted above his head to form two words:

Amity Park.

…Which wasn't, as it turned out, that far away.

Finding Amity Park on a map was difficult, merely because of its small size. But Remus didn't need to use a map.

Amity Park was the center of spiritual activity in the U.S, and every muggle from coast to coast knew it.

Remus' elation of finding the place was dwarfed by his shock that everyone in the United States knew about ghosts. What's more, they knew the name of one in particular.

To himself, Remus wondered if some deity was helping him out of pity.

A ghost that went by the obvious pseudonym Danny Phantom roamed the city of Amity Park on a frequent basis and had reportedly saved said town from destruction no less than three or ten times (depending on who you talked to). It was the most promising lead he had gotten. When he had asked a random shopkeeper about the incidents in Amity and the man was more of an expert on it that Remus was, it was only slightly mortifying.

Remus absently thought the name was a bit funny for a ghost, but then remembered Nearly Headless Nick and forgot all about it.

He saw a picture of Amity Park's main hub, busy streets with a calm park in the background. Making sure no one saw him, Remus slipped behind the store to concentrate.

In the blink of an eye, Remus disappeared from view.

He arrived with little flourish in the middle of a deserted street. It was at least 9:30 in the evening, Central. Remus, who was still suffering from the severe time difference in minute ways, yawned expansively.

He looked around and found that it looked relatively calm, especially for a town that was supposed to be terrorized by malevolent spirits on a regular basis.

Remus swallowed and started categorizing the different areas in which he felt strong spiritual signatures. Then he stopped.

He vaguely remembered something from the book. There was an incantation he had come across that allowed for some sort of summoning, but he couldn't remember exactly what it was. Remus frowned as he pulled out the small book and searched for the incantation; which turned out to be called the Accerso Phasmatis Nox Noctis Incantate : the Incantation for Conjuring the Spirits of the Night.

Remus paused.

Maybe it was too soon to use something that powerful. There was also a high possibility that it would most-likely call all sorts of different creatures, in addition to the more malevolent spirits that roamed this town.

He flipped the pages to find the Reperio Incantate . He would try the finding spell one more time, but this time he would add a certain ghost's name to his list.

Danny was busy not fighting ghosts, and he was extremely grateful for it.

Actually he was with Sam and Tucker and they were sitting at a table, completely immersed in their current school project. It was a Lancer Special, which meant that they would only get a day or two after getting back into school to finish it. Sam had been at their necks all week, egging them on to get the damn thing done as soon as possible. Both Tucker and Danny complained that it was summer, and after the whole debacle with Freakshow at the end of the school year, they were entitled to some well-earned rest. Sam had countered with the fact that she knew if they didn't start it now, in August, then they would probably never would.

"Are you kidding Tucker?" Sam said in disbelief. "It's amazing that you can understand the most complicated technology, but Shakespeare is still beyond you."

"I resent that!" Tucker pouted across the table. "I can read his stuff online, and it makes sense there!"

Sam groaned audibly. "That's because it's the Spark Notes version…it's in simple English," she explained as if talking to a slower than average koala.

Tucker huffed in indignation. Danny was trying not to laugh; no really, he was.

"Why'd we have to get stuck with A Midsummer Night's Dream ?" asked Tucker no one in particular.

"Because it rocks," Sam said matter-of-factly. "And I picked it."

Danny quickly gave Tucker a warning look that practically shouted, No! Don't say anything, are you crazy?

Tucker, per usual, ignored the look. "Why?" he cried, half-sobbing into his shirt.

Sam glared pointedly, and Danny shrugged to himself. He had tried.

They had situated themselves in the kitchen, comfortably snacking on some food as they analyzed quotes, uncovered centuries old metaphors within metaphors, and some other stuff. Most of the analyzing had been done by Sam, who was so insistent on doing it the right way that she had wrestled the job from Tucker and added it to her workload. She left Danny alone, as he had already proven to be a good enough writer to save his own butt in occasions such as these.

It was a few seconds later that the doorbell rung.

"I'll get it!" called Maddie Fenton, reaching the door first and opening it quickly. She opened her mouth to say hello, but stopped.

The man in front of her looked exhausted and visibly drained. He was wearing what looked like dirty beaten robes, and he was carrying a small suitcase in one hand and a small book in the other.

Maddie frowned at his scruffiness. "This is the Fenton residence. I am Maddie Fenton…may I help you?" she asked in a slightly low voice, as if warning the man that any action that even hinted at being reprehensible was punishable by a door in the face.

"Yes," said the man as he stood straighter, and Maddie heard a sophisticated London accent in his voice, which surprised her further, as it did not match his unkempt appearance. "I'm afraid to ask this, but do you perchance know of the," he paused for a moment, before continuing with a gentle smile, "Danny Phantom ghost?"

Maddie blinked in surprise. "Of course we do!" she exclaimed, pleased (but still in defense mode). "We are the first and best ghost hunters in Amity Park."

The man wore a confused expression. "You hunt ghosts?"

Maddie nodded with a considerable amount of pride. "Yes," she tells him enthusiastically. "We wish to study them, and hunting them takes the more dangerous ghosts out of the picture!" She grinned at this.

The man gave her a strange look before shaking his head. "Yes, well, I have great reason to believe that this Danny Phantom spirit resides here. May I come in?" he asked, his voice indicating that she might as well. He wasn't going to leave otherwise.

Maddie, her curiosity already piqued, stepped forward. "Are you saying he's inside our house?" she asked incredulous. "That isn't possible!"

"It is entirely possible," the man said firmly. "It is also of utmost importance that I find this spirit and talk to him."

Maddie backed down for a moment. "Why?" she asked simply, frowning in suspicion.

"I have other information that might be considered useful to you regarding these malevolent spirits," he said quickly. "Please," he said after Maddie didn't respond, "I must do this."

Maddie regarded the man on her front steps once more. Tempted by the thought of information and an explanation regarding his ridiculous comment about the ghost boy living in their house of all things….

"Alright," she said in a firm manner. "But this better be good."

The man Remus came know as Jack had come down soon after Madeline allowed the strange man inside. He was grinning in an incredibly enthusiastic manner. "Maddie! Is this the man I can blather on about ghosts to?"

Madeline managed a sweet smile. "Of course Jack," she said and took out a small cookie. "Have a cookie first."

Jack immediately snatched the cookie, inadvertently silencing him for a brief moment. Maddie looked at her husband with a mixture of exasperation and affection. She turned back to the stranger on the couch.

"Now Mr.…."

"Lupin," he said apologetically, "Remus if you please."

Madeline raised and eyebrow and Jack blinked. "Alright. Remus. What on earth do you mean the ghost boy is here in our house?" asked Maddie with great annoyance.

There was a loud splashing sound from the kitchen, followed by a severe bout of coughing and a "Eew! Jeez Danny watch it!" from what sounded like Sam. Maddie frowned.

"Kids?" she called out, and watched as Remus' expression went from apprehensive to curious. "I know you three are listening, so come on out!"

A few seconds later, two boys and a girl appeared, one of the boys still coughing slightly. The girl was wiping her sleeve with a towel, a slightly disgusted look on her face.

Maddie looked at her son strangely before turning back to Remus. "Well?"

Remus tore his eyes away from the children. "Yes. Well," he began, taking out his wand and drawing a few diagrams in the air, "This place is a remarkable hotspot for ghostly activity, which is strange, but easily explainable. I have made use of a strong locater spell to find the ghost…and, forgive me, but it's quite difficult to miss your home." He moved his wand in the air, creating a couple of different diagrams before he noticed the intense silence that was now permeating the room.

All of them were staring at him like had grown two heads and a five extra arms. Remus realized he had made a grave mistake.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, standing. "Apparently I was-"

"What was that?" asked the girl in a quiet but strangely formidable voice. The boys next to her weren't nearly as composed, as they were gaping right along with the adults.

Remus sighed in frustration, mostly due to his own severe carelessness. "There must be some mistake," he said, hoping against hope that there might be a solution to this dilemma. "I know for a fact that there are a few wizards or witches in this house. I can…feel them," he said slowly, his words edited slightly as he didn't really want to explain how he could 'smell' natural magic.

"Witches?" the red-headed woman echoed. "Wizards?"

"What are you?" the boy in the red and white shirt said, his voice quite serious for someone his age.

Remus had half a mind to Obliviate them, but stopped himself short. He still needed information about this Danny Phantom, and the Finding Spell had led him straight to this house. Plus, there was now an additional confusion; he had only done magic in front of these folks because he had been sure they were magically inclined. He stood and looked the woman straight in the eye. "Is there a Danny Fenton who lives here?" he asked, throwing precaution to the four winds.

The red and white shirted boy started in surprise, and to Remus' surprise, not a little fear. "I'm Danny," he said, putting a hand to his chest as if to emphasize this statement. His voice was calm, but there was an underlying danger that Remus' more animalistic side recognized as a warning signal. How curious.

Remus opened his mouth to say something when he felt a surge of magic and the vase next to his elbow shattered.

Everyone in the room blinked. Remus looked as if a light bulb had gone off. All of the strangeness finally started to make sense as he remembered Dumbledore's advice.

"I understand," he said after a minute. "At least one of you has a natural magical ability." He looked the lot of them in the eye, "Because I did not shatter that vase."

Danny blinked in surprise and stared at his hand for a moment, before turning around and looking at the girl next to him, who was, if it was possible, even more shocked.

"Did you do that?" asked Danny in a small voice, his words directed at the black-haired girl. The other boy started to edge away, which would have comical if not for the current situation.

"Uh…" the girl blinked. She looked at Danny before glancing at Remus. Her eyes were wide and fearful.

Remus held out a hand, as if to ward off any negative emotions. "Please," he said abandoning his usual gentle voice and settling for a more firm manner. "Sit. All of you."

Everyone sat promptly, all too much at a loss of what to do.

"Now," he began. "I shall reintroduce myself." Remus sat down as well, moving a chair over with his hands instead of his wand. "I am Remus Lupin. I was sent here on a, well, a mission if you will. Your town may be home to a spirit of extraordinary power, and while there may be quite a few of those here, this one is of unique importance primarily because of his benevolence."

He paused to watch their expressions and saw that they were slightly confused; which might or might not have been an understatement. "The more powerful a ghost," he started to explain, "The more malevolent they become. It is highly unusual to find a 'good' ghost with the same amount of power." They began to look less confused and Remus got back on track. He missed Danny's muted expression of worry.

"I am from England," he said smiling a bit once more, as he realized that he might not have to Obliviate anyone after all. "And we have a very sensitive system used to discover who is born imbued with natural magic. In America, I'm afraid that they look for a specific level of power, which is unusually high a standard to set, and also, rather dangerous." He eyed the girl with a small reassuring grin, and she returned the smile warily. "You see if a person's power goes on unchecked and untrained, said person may, depending on their own personal level of control, lose their mind or waste away very slowly."

He saw their various expressions of distress and hastily reassured them. "But that's only if their power is above the norm, or at least, above the lesser average norm. Usually they may live their lives accordingly, albeit a bit curiously, considering accidents like the vase incident may often occur no matter what level of control they have." He paused and looked at them with a mixture of relief and worry. "I'm relieved to have found this household, no matter what information I may receive" he said honestly. "There are young untrained witches or wizards here, and I might be able to give you the chance to finally have solid control over your power, strong or not."

He seemed to have captivated the room. The adults were looking slightly skeptical, but it was fading fast as they calculated the facts in their head. Danny, and what Remus assumed were his friends, looked hooked on the idea, although Danny had a strange unreadable emotion on his face, making him stand out from everyone else.

"What did you want with Danny Phantom anyway?" he asked at last, breaking the silence. Remus looked at him in quiet surprise, but answered his question.

"I need to speak with him," he said simply, "If I can, I might be able to persuade him to join us, and possibly help us."

"With what?" he countered quickly. Remus paused, his expression troubled.

"There is something of a danger coming to Britain and entering the wizarding world at this time," he confessed, noting how Danny's expression switched from the defensive to apprehension. "Though most do not believe this is true, a dark evil has resurfaced in our lands. A wizard, a dark wizard, once held us in terror, killing many in his rise to power and purification."

The girl frowned immediately at this. "Purification?" she echoed, her expression denoting the slow horror of understanding. "What do you mean by that?"

"He tortured and killed both muggles and muggleborns," Remus said in a hollow voice. "He believed he was purifying our own kind, purging the dirty or unworthy from our ranks. This might have been his agenda, but his true aim was power," he sighed, "and immortality."

The girl's face darkened and she looked absolutely furious, and Danny looked no angrier than his friend. But it was the other boy who spoke up, looking silently incensed. "Just like Hitler…or the KKK," he said quietly.

Remus nodded, not relatively sure what the young boy meant, but was certain that he understood.

"What's a muggle?" asked Jack, looking incredibly down-to-earth compared to Remus' first impression

"A non-magical person," Remus said, shaking himself out of his small slump. "Muggleborns are those who were born into a completely muggle lineage, but have magical abilities." He smiled, glancing at the girl on the couch. "Like the young girl, I believe."

She blushed and smiled worriedly.

"But there is an easy way to test for natural magic," Remus said, his tone mild. He took out his wand again, and was relieved to see that no one flinched or jumped out any windows. He held it out to the young girl and smiled. "What's your name?" he asked.

She blinked and carefully took Remus' wand. "Sam Manson," she said as she grasped the innocent piece of wood. She looked to Remus, a quizzical expression on her face. "What am I supposed to do with it?" she asked.

"Give it a wave," Remus said, smiling inwardly at how much like Ollivander he had sounded.

Sam nodded and raised the wand, waving it awkwardly.

Her friends immediately ducked as a wave of small birds dropped in from the ceiling with a loud crack.

Remus couldn't help but chuckle. He watched as Sam fished her way out of the small chirping pile and practically threw the wand back at Remus. He caught it, and really tried not to say anything incriminating. She looked absolutely gob smacked, not to mention her friends.

"That was a positive," Remus managed, trying to stave off a bout of laughter at the poor girl's expense. Madeline and Jack immediately jumped out of their seats and ran over to examine the birds, catching them even as they tried to fly away. Danny and his friend shot Sam identical dirty looks. She shrugged, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah, that solved that riddle," Danny managed in a slightly sarcastic manner, shaking his head at his parents.

Remus turned to look at the other boy who had managed to finally dislodge himself from the pile. He waved the birds out of existence, startling both Madeline and Jack. He handed his wand to the boy, who looked warily at the ceiling.

"Birds aren't gonna fall and smother me too are they?" he asked nervously, and Sam shot him a glare.

"Every magical reaction is different," Remus said, feeling more at ease as he fell into the role of mentor. He studied the boy before asking, "And you are?"

"Tucker," he said staring at the wand in his hand as if it was highly unstable chemical. "Tucker Foley."

"Go ahead," Remus urged him, a weird and wonderful excitement coursing through his veins. It occurred to him that he was discovering new magic, and that gave him a strange sense of accomplishment.

Tucker gulped audibly and waved it in a jerky motion.

There was another quick dash as loud snap accompanied by a slew of flying books leapt off the shelves nearby. Sam and Danny managed to stifle their mirth, even as Tucker got buried. Sam walked over to help her friend with a knowing look on her face, and Danny clutched the couch, his hand smothering any hint of laughter. Madeline was now looking mildly annoyed, even though Jack was trying not to laugh along with them.

"Is the testing going to continue destroying my living room?" she asked curtly, sounding less shocked and more like a mother as Tucker's head resurfaced, shame-faced. He handed Remus back his wand, and Remus took it back, having the courtesy to look apologetic.

"Hopefully not," Remus said smiling, "Although, if this was done outside it would probably cause more damage." He looked to Danny. "And no doubt it would attract more attention."

Danny saw that the attention was on him and he sobered quickly.

Remus merely smiled and held out his wand. "Your two friends are officially one witch and one wizard," he said in a gentle tone. "I am very sure you are as well."

Looking quickly at his friends and his parents, who all seemed to radiate support, Danny took the wand with the same hesitancy as Tucker. His hands were shaking slightly, and Remus put a steady hand on the young boy's shoulders, as if to reassure him.

Danny waved the wand with sudden determination.

At first, nothing happened. Remus blinked in surprise. He had been sure….

Then, the wand glowed a strange green color shooting out an almost firework-like display of green light.

Remus heard Madeline gasp in delight while Jack muttered a proud, "Well that settles that…."

As for Danny, he merely stood stock still, eyes wide and not a bit enchanted by the sight. He still looked anxious, but his expression had moved from fear to happiness. His friends had cheered considerably, no longer worried about whether their friend could join them in their own elation, and had immediately run over to congratulate him as soon as he had handed the wand back to Remus.

"I suppose that does settle that," Remus said, enjoying himself a little. "Maddie and Jack," he said in a firm, but at the same time welcoming manner. "I would like to invite these children to join us for further training," he announced, receiving many shocked glances around the room. "I assume at least one of them belongs to you."

"Where?" asked Madeline as she ignored his last question, looking faint.

"In England," Remus responded. "If that's alright with you," he added.

Remus glanced a bit nervously at Madeline's expression.

This does not bode well.

Chapter Text

" I would like to invite these children to join us for further training," he announced, receiving many shocked glances around the room. "I assume at least one of them belongs to you."

" Where?" asked Madeline as she ignored his last question, looking faint.

" In England," Remus responded. "If that's alright with you," he added.

Remus glanced a bit nervously at Madelyn's expression.

This does not bode well.

"It may be in England," Remus said hurriedly. "But I can assure you that there are many more benefits that are available if you go."

"Oh my," she said at last. "What on earth are we supposed to do about payment?"

"We do have a different system of currency," Remus said, "but it should be easy to calculate how much you would have to pay for supplies and such. Travel, I can give surety to you, costs nothing."

Madeline frowned at the floor, contemplating. Danny and his friends seemed to hang on her response, even if she wasn't going to be paying for them. Remus understood why. If she said yes, then maybe there was a chance their parents would also agree.

"I wasn't thinking about supplies," she said honestly. "I was thinking about tuition. Danny's been public schooled for his entire academic career," she explained. "It would be difficult working the extra payment into our regular billing schedule." She glanced at Jack with a worried expression, but he just smiled and put a large hand on her shoulder reassuringly.

"I'm sure we could handle it," he said with confidence. His eyes gleamed proudly in Danny's direction, and the boy looked surprised. "After all, this is a fantastic opportunity to learn about ghosts!"

Danny groaned audibly while his friends chuckled. "Of course it is," he said smiling wearily in exasperation.

Remus merely gave a confused nod. "We most certainly have ghosts, though none so malevolent as the ones you seem to have here," he said, thoroughly amused. He coughed slightly and smiled supportively at Madeline. "Hogwarts is an old school, and it has never needed to worry about students who couldn't afford to go, or had trouble with payment." When he saw Madeline's strange look, he held back a small snort of laughter. "Hogwarts is the name of the school."

"So it's a boarding school?" Sam spoke up. "We would have to stay there all year?" Remus nodded an affirmative, but he was surprised to see Danny tense.

"Yes," he said, a small frown gracing his features at Danny's subtle change in attitude. "But you would be able to come home for the holidays, both summer and winter."

"No tuition would be needed?" Madeline said incredulously. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure, Madeline," Remus said politely. "In fact, under the circumstances I'm sure they would be welcomed with open arms, tuition or not."

Jack beamed like the sun. Madeline merely nodded, and then said, "Just Maddie, please. I haven't been called Madeline in ages."

Remus nodded as well. "As you wish," he obliged. He looked at the children from across the room, and saw them discussing what might or might not happen with hushed excited tones. The three were wearing identical expressions of apprehension mixed with delight, although Danny was significantly more subdued. "Can I count on Danny joining us next this coming year?" he asked quietly.

Maddie nodded, worry once more on her features. "Danny is my son," she said firmly, as if that explained everything. And Remus, paying close attention to her words, realized that it did. "And I think you should test Jazz when she comes home as well," she continued and then paused. "Jazz is also my daughter," she explained. Remus looked away from the woman and saw that Danny had over heard the last part of the conversation.

"I think I'll make a call home," Tucker announced, his glee obvious, flipping open a small piece of equipment Remus recognized vaguely as some sort of muggle communication device.

In a matter of minutes, the living room was a bustle of activity. Remus quickly tested both Jack and Maddie, who, as Remus suspected, were not magically inclined. He was entertained by Jack's disappointed reaction, especially when Madeline had sympathetically handed her husband a cookie. Tucker had invited his parents over, as they seemed completely unconvinced. Sam had a brief yelling match over the phone with her parents, as they too seemed convinced that she was lying to them or at least making up an elaborate hoax. She invited them over in a huff, saying that they had to believe her then.

Danny sat on the couch, calm and thoughtful. It was as if he was the eye of the storm, the only down-to-earth person in the room. His parents seemed relatively accepting of the whole ordeal, in fact they were possibly more excited than he, and Jack made sure Danny knew he was proud of him, as he was busy hugging the living daylights out of his son. This surprised Remus a great deal when he learned that they were muggle scientists, ghost hunters or not. He was satisfied to merely let it all happen, not wanting to get involved in their more personal matters.

Things took an interesting turn when the Foleys appeared. Remus had to admit, they were much more serene in behavior and acceptance. Just before he had begun his explanation, Mr. Foley asked him in a polite but firm manner to prove that he wasn't a hoax. Remus had inclined his head and took out his wand, swiftly turning a nearby, unused, box into a fox and back again. It had earned him applause, which Remus wasn't expecting, but it gave him a surprisingly pleasurable feeling none the less. He had certainly gained Mr. and Mrs. Foley's attention and respect. They knew him to be honest, at least in action, and were readily accepting of the situation, which, Remus noted, pleased Tucker immensely. After he had explained Tucker's potential (Remus admitted he had played spin-doctor a bit), their reaction was most certainly on the nervous side, but above all, they seemed immensely proud of their son. Remus felt it was his duty to also include an explanation of how the Owl Post worked, noticing how Mrs. Foley was beginning to get choked up over the idea that she might not hear from her son for almost a year at a time. Everyone in the room seemed relieved to hear about such a system.

They left with Tucker, saying that is was late enough, and that Tucker needed to sleep. The boy waved his friends goodbye, obviously excited enough that he probably wasn't going to sleep anytime soon. He stopped at the door, where Remus was standing, and gave him a serious grin.

"Thanks," he said, meaning every syllable.

Remus paused a moment, a tiny bit of astonishment circulating through his mind. He ended up sending the boy a good-humored grin. "It is only my job," he insisted, shaking the boy's hand warmly.

As soon as they had left, the Mansons arrived.

Remus felt an overbearing sense of disaster. As he had mentioned to himself many times, he trusted his instincts for a reason.

It was not a pleasant first meeting. They had taken one look at his robes and had sniffed in disapproval, which had not gone unnoticed by anyone, especially their own daughter. Sam frowned darkly at their reaction, where as Remus merely ignored it. He had received far worse from people who he had actually cared for, let alone strangers he barely knew. Remus predicted further complication when he noticed their reaction to his demonstration of magic. Mrs. Manson had actually flinched and gasped, while Mr. Manson merely grimaced.

"…and I would like to invite your daughter to join us for the next few years at Hogwarts, in order to train her and allow her to accumulate as much experience in our world, even if she chooses not to live her life as a witch," Remus concluded at last. Sam was on the edge of her seat, her hand wrapped around Danny's unconsciously. To note the serious attention he was giving the situation, Danny was not blushing at all, which made Remus almost proud of the boy. Danny was still a teenager after all.

The Mansons remained silent for a few minutes after his long-winded explanation. Then, Mrs. Manson spoke, and Remus did not like what he heard.

"It explains a lot," she said, her voice almost a hiss. "All the strange things that happened to me at our fancy dinners, the toaster from Denmark…everything."

Sam's eyes widened a fraction. Remus saw that Danny's grip on her hand had tightened.

"Honey," Mr. Manson said in a low voice, "Please."

"Don't try to tell me otherwise Thurman!" the woman practically yelled. "I knew she had something to do with all the weirdness that happened around our house! And now I have proof!" She whirled around to face her daughter, who was beginning to look just as angry. "I have proof that my only daughter is a freak!" she screeched. At these words Sam's expression went from anger to astonished despair.

Danny's expression darkened severely and Maddie growled. "I would prefer it if you do not call anyone a freak in my household," she said in a voice that suggested the future was going to become very exciting if she wasn't obeyed.

Mrs. Manson, or Pamela, looked to Maddie scornfully. "As if you have anything to say about being normal," she said offhandedly. "I am not the only one to disapprove of your professions; if you can call ghost-hunting a profession."

Mr. Manson, or Thurman, frowned at this and put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "We are in someone else's house," he said calmly, almost ignoring the very not nice expressions they were receiving. "We should respect their wishes."

"Mom," Sam said at last. "I am a witch. If you have any problems with that, I suggest you take it up with yourselves, as you were the ones who gave me life," she spat the last part out as if she was cursing.

Pamela Manson puffed up, her face turning red. "How dare you?" she exclaimed. "We give you everything, and yet you insist on dressing and acting like one of the common ilk! You always ignore our wishes, and we let it be most of the time, thinking one day you would come around and treat us like we were your family!"

"Maybe if you treated me like an individual instead of dress up doll, I might actually respect you!" cried Sam, standing up in a fury, her eyes bright. "I might be proud to call myself your daughter then!"

"Sam!" Maddie gasped quietly, her hands covering her mouth. Jack looked equally shocked.

Mrs. Manson's mouth snapped shut.

"Samantha, you have no right to speak to your mother that way," Mr. Manson said without much feeling. He was looking just as stunned as Mrs. Manson, and his expression was pained. Remus silently thought that Thurman looked far more disturbed by his daughter's words, and was possibly giving them serious thought.

"Fine," Mrs. Manson choked out. "Go to England. Good riddance," she said drawing herself up to her full height. "I hope not to see you again until you decide to behave like the daughter we expected you to grow to be."

Sam collected enough of herself to glare balefully back. "Until you accept me for who I am, I hope I won't see you either."

Remus could only watch as the two parents stormed out. Mr. Thurman had the good grace to nod his head to everyone, and stopped at the door.

"I am sorry Mr. Lupin," he said politely. "Sam may go. I wish you all luck." He turned to the Fentons. "Good night."

And then they were gone.

There was nothing save the solitary sound of Sam's deep breaths, and the occasional sniffle from Maddie.

Danny stood up slowly. "Sam?" he asked, obviously concerned.

"I'm fine," she said shortly, her voice heavy with an unseen burden. "I just need to use the bathroom. Excuse me."

With great sadness, Remus observed her as she trudged up the stairs and around a corner. Danny made to go after her, but Jack held out a hand.

"Son," he said morosely, "I'm no expert, but I think she needs to take a breather."

Danny reluctantly stayed where he was. He looked to Remus, his eyes intense with sympathy. "Does…does this happen a lot?" he asked the wizard in a quiet voice.

"More often than I would like, I'm afraid," Remus answered in a voice imbued with deep resentment. He paused and snorted softly at the incongruity, thinking of a certain young wizard currently in Surrey. "I know a boy who has even less. Yet he still manages to make his way, through thick or thin." He managed a small smile. "Your friend has a great amount of strength and independence. I'm sure she will do the same." His eyes showed a great amount of empathy.

"Although I wouldn't wish such a quandary on anyone."

Sam eventually came back downstairs and was immediately enveloped in a hug from Maddie Fenton, who was entirely distraught over the recent incident. Sam assured her, looking vaguely panicked from such vast amounts of human contact, that she was indeed well and able. Maddie simply shook her head and offered the girl a cup of tea, which Sam readily accepted. It was turning into rather a long night.

Danny walked back into the room and, in turn, received a large hug from his own mother who did more for her own well-being than his. And not a second after he had been released, Sam hugged him as well. Remus couldn't help but smirk when Danny decided to blush now.

"Sorry Sam," he said, "I called Tuck and told him what happened. He sends his worries, as well as his large flying mallets." Danny smirked. "I told him you'd get his message with pleasure."

Sam started laughing uproariously, which seemed to brighten the previous mood tremendously. Even Remus allowed himself a chuckle or two.

"Oh hang on," Danny said suddenly. "What made you come to this house anyway? You said you were looking for Danny Phantom, right?"

Remus nodded. "I was telling your parents how I had used a particularly strong Finding Spell to seek out this Danny Phantom spirit. The only clue it left me with was your name," he inclined his head in Danny's direction. "This is why I asked earlier if you lived here."

The Fentons turned as one to stare at their son.

Sam and Danny tensed. Then Sam chuckled weakly.

"Oh come on, it makes perfect sense!" she said smiling awkwardly. "The Fentons in general have so much contact with Danny Phantom that you would obviously be the perfect people to seek out for answers!"

Danny seemed to breathe an imperceptible sigh of relief. Sam grinned widely. Jack and Maddie nodded as if it did make perfect sense.

Remus frowned.

The night only continued to get more interesting. Jazz, or Jasmine, arrived at around a quarter till twelve to a house full excited family (in addition to Sam), and she was almost blown out the door by the amount of exclamations they threw upon her.

"Whoa!" she said, waving a hand impatiently. "One at a time!" She turned to look at her mother. "What is this?"

"I'm afraid," Maddie said with a knowing smile, "You'll have to ask him, Jazz."

Remus was once more put on the spot. He smiled warmly. "Indeed."

The young woman gave Remus a look that said she was decidedly no nonsense, thank you very much. It reminded him so much of Minerva McGonagall that he had actually started laughing, earning him a reprehensible look from Jazz herself. He quickly composed himself.

"Sorry," he said, only a bit apologetic. "You look far too much like someone with whom I am acquainted with."

"Are you going to explain why my family and – oh hi Sam! – are jumping on me like a pack of hyenas?" she asked putting her hands on her hips.

Remus sighed a bit. Maybe he should make some sort of recording. Then he wouldn't have to inform all those present the same thing he had said repeatedly for the last few hours. A man had to sleep sometime.

After yet another explanation of the situation, Remus acquired a seat and silently took a quick mental break. He hadn't actually suspected to find three different children who had been denied the magical education that they required. He was still, no matter what these folks may decide to do, looking for this powerful ghost. Unfortunately, Remus had no assurance that it was this Danny Phantom fellow, so he might be on the completely wrong path. This did not encourage him.

Thankfully, Jazz was quite easy to persuade, especially after showing off a bit to prove his statements true. He tested her right after and was surprised to see that she was not of the witching persuasion. She was not disappointed by this, but, like her mother and father, she was exceedingly proud of her little brother.

"I think you should totally go," she said in earnest. "There's so much to learn, I'm envious."

Danny merely shrugged. "Yeah, I could."

His father gave him a surprised look. "You mean you think you won't?" he asked his son. Maddie looked positively taken aback.

"Danny," she said looking confused. "Why on earth not?"

If he didn't know any better, Remus was beginning to think that Danny had something to hide. Danny simply avoided any gaze that was being directed at him.

…Or maybe he was just nervous.

"I'm gonna go to my room to think," he said. "I'll be right back." Both Jazz and Sam frowned in concern and Sam touched his arm, but he shook his head at her and moved on.

Remus watched the boy run upstairs with a thoughtful expression. "I'm going to take a quick look outside," he said to those left in the room. "I need the fresh air."

To their credit, the Fentons encouraged him to go take a break. They insisted he needed after all he had had to do this night. He smiled and excused himself.

In the night air, Remus gave himself time to collect his thoughts. It had been hectic enough for him to set his own thoughts aside for most of the evening.

"Uh, hey."

Remus frowned. He hadn't spoken…and the street was empty of any people. He turned around and looked up.

And he was greeted by shocking white hair and glowing green eyes.

Remus stepped back and gripped his wand out of habit. "Are you…?"

"Yeah," the ghost (obviously) told him bluntly. "Danny Phantom." Phantom landed on the steps outside the Fenton home and walked forward. "I heard from…acquaintances of mine that you were looking for me."

Remus studied the spirit carefully. He was wearing an outfit that Remus couldn't recognize and his hair and eyes threw him off slightly; he hadn't been expecting much color (and was that a logo on his chest?). But the thing that really unbalanced him was Phantom's appearance, or to be precise, his supposed age.

"How old were you?" Remus blurted out before cursing himself for being an insensitive clod. "I'm sorry…," he murmured, rubbing his head with his free hand.

Phantom made a small noise that Remus recognized as laughter. "Hey, no problem. I rarely get asked questions anyway, so this is a pleasant change from the shoot-first-ask-questions-later routine." The ghost looked hard at Remus. "Yes," he sighed, "I died young and not too long ago." He smiled in a hollow manner before staring at Remus' tense posture.

"I'm not gonna eat you," he said jokingly. "Uh, what's your name anyway?"

"Remus Lupin," Remus told him promptly. "I was sent here to find a powerful ghost in this…area."

"This 'area'?" Phantom echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Remus' face made a strange mix of amusement and weariness. "I had to search diligently, but you were the best lead I got."

Phantom shrugged, slightly unsure. "I'm not sure I can help you on the 'powerful ghost' bit…I'm not that strong."

Remus frowned at him and reached a hand out, brushing his fingers across what appeared to be solid form.

Phantom jumped back in alarm. "No touchy!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What was that for anyway?"

Remus stared at his hand. "Only the most obsessive or malevolent ghosts can take solid form, as their hunger for the insatiable motivates them beyond reason." He looked to Phantom. "Unless you go the quiet sort of psycho, then I can safely assume that you are not malevolent."

There was a defining moment when the two looked at each other, and Remus realized that Phantom was indeed the ghost he was looking for. Phantom seemed to realize this as well, and he heaved a sigh.

"Actually," the ghost chimed in a bitter voice, "I sort of protect this town. That's about as obsessive as I get."

Remus continued to look at Phantom in a puzzled way. "Why?" he asked the spirit, not really wanting to beat about the bush.

Phantom tilted his head and answered in a solemn voice. "Someone has to."

Remus studied Phantom for a moment before sighing. "I can see the complication of asking you to come with me," he confessed, not quite happy with the situation as it stood.

"Yeah," Phantom agreed. "I don't feel comfortable leaving this town defenseless to the other ghosts, who I know'll try to do something bad if I go," he said angrily. "I can't ever get a break."

Remus pondered the ghost once more. It was so odd, finding the ghost who was as powerful as any wizard to be a young boy, no older than Harry (physically at any rate), and discovering that the one obsession he had nothing at all to do with the spirit's own personal desires. It was closer to self-sacrifice than anything else. Remus personally did not want to force the young ghost away from what was practically his home town. He had a task to perform, but that did not mean he would compel anyone to do anything they did not appreciate themselves. Even ghosts were once human.

"I would most like you to come with me to England," Remus said, and when he saw Phantom's mouth open to argue, he held up a hand. "But, I am not a man who will force anything from anyone. I feel that it is only detrimental to a relationship, and will only cause unpleasant feelings to circulate." He looked Phantom directly in his luminescent green eyes. "You have a choice. You will always have a choice. I'm merely here to plead my case, and say that we will miss your assistance greatly if you choose not to join us."

Phantom looked startled. "You mean that?"

"Every word," Remus said confidently. "And I am convinced that no matter what choice you make, it will be the right one."

The ghost seemed completely thrown for a loop. Apparently, this was not at all what he was expecting. "That's putting a lot of faith in me," he said as if in warning.

"But I do have faith in you," Remus said, surprising himself. "You don't seem at all evil or selfish, even though I won't deny that you feel dangerous –," he stopped short and frowned.

The feeling of self-preservation he had experienced earlier that evening came back in full force. It was the same feeling he had felt from young Danny. Remus shook it off, planning to figure that puzzle out later.

Phantom gave the impression immense relief. "I thought I was going to have to fight you off or something," he admitted sheepishly. "But I should've known better."

Remus raised an eyebrow, wondering what the ghost might have meant by that. But whatever thoughts he had on the subject he kept to himself. Phantom was certainly unique.

"What do you want me for anyway?" he asked eyeing Remus with veiled interest. Remus added another footnote in his head to Phantom's growing profile: the ghost was not stupid or gullible, and though he may be brave in defending this city, he was as shrewd as any human business man.

"We would like your support against a particular wizard," he began, searching the ghost's eyes for any reaction to the word wizard. His suspicions about Phantom being the ghost of a muggle was confirmed when the boy's eyes widened a fraction in surprise.

"So it's not just fairy tales and fantasy," he said. "You guys really exist."

"Very much so," Remus responded. "And I came here representing those who disagree with mass murder of non-magical and magical human beings alike."

Phantom's expression darkened. "I'm dead," he said, stopping for a beat. "But that doesn't mean I like death."

"Mm," Remus muttered a non-committal noise. "That is the main reason I was asked to find the most powerful ghost, located in America."

Remus was interested to see the ghost blush. "I'm really not that powerful," he protested, "but if that's what you think…."

"It was not what I thought," Remus clarified. "But it was the observation of another wizard, a powerful man by the name of Albus Dumbledore." He paced in front of the ghost. "He found you. I was merely sent to confirm his suspicions and try to persuade you to come with me."

"Right," Phantom said, not looking like he completely followed, but understood the gist of what Remus was sent to do.

There was a brief silence were both pondered their current options. Then Phantom smiled at Remus.

"I have to go now," he said. He saw Remus' distressed expression and quickly amended his statement. "I mean," he paused and then grinned to himself. "You'll see me around."

And with that mysterious comment, Phantom disappeared, leaving Remus behind on a dark street corner, wondering if he had done the right thing.

Before he went back inside, Remus apparated around Amity Park, looking as for any sign of a wizarding town. He eventually did find a small outpost of a town on the outskirts of the city, paying a Sickle to write and send and letter to Dumbledore, updating the headmaster of the current situation.

As he left for the Fenton residence, Remus pondered why it was so hard to find any wizarding civilization nearby. Dumbledore's words describing America and its magical community came to the forefront of his mind, and Remus concluded that the country simply didn't have many old wizarding towns like Europe or Asia. No European town in America predated the 1600's, and that made it difficult all around.

Remus, as he hopped around town, searched out any other signs of magical power. He was disappointed to find none at all, aside from the three he had met already. This was very curious indeed…it was an anomaly to find only three of his kind, with the added bonus of having them already know each other as best friends.

Or maybe this was just coincidence and fate ganging up together.

As he set foot inside the Fenton household once more, he found that Danny had rejoined his family and friend. The boy smiled in a knowing manner when he saw Remus enter, and stood up.

"If the American school system didn't find me out," he said, "Then maybe England would be better." He looked at his parents, who were nodding. "I'll go."

Remus sighed in relief. Apparently, everyone had been trying to convince Danny to go and at least explore his options. He smiled kindly at the somewhat nervously inclined boy.

"I am very glad you will join us," Remus said quite honestly looking forward to the boy's company.

Danny thought, turned to look at his parents. "You guys gotta promise me something," he said.

Jack and Maddie looked at each other, before turning to look at their son. "Yes son?" Jack asked.

Danny's expression turned grave. "You have to protect this town. Through thick or thin, come he-heck or high water. The ghosts won't leave us alone, and I want to make sure you guys will be safe, even when I'm not here."

The Fentons looked at their only son in surprise. "Of course sweetie," Maddie assured him, wide-eyed at his fierceness. She had never seen him so passionate about anything before; aside from being an astronaut.

"You can count on us Danny," Jack said proudly. "We aren't the number one ghost hunter's in Amity for nothing!"

Danny grinned in satisfied relief.

After a moment, Maddie inclined her head in Remus' direction and stood up, once more attracting Remus' curiosity. Those clothes must be unique to the United States… he had never seen them elsewhere.

"And I insist that you stay the night," she announced. "It's almost two in the morning, you skipping out on us for an hour like that," Maddie tutted and Remus suddenly felt like a child being scolded for staying out too late.

"I couldn't possibly," he said shaking his head. "I have already imposed on your hospitality enough for the evening."

"It is morning," Sam put in, grinning sheepishly. "You might as well join me in the camping-out-at-the-Fenton's parade."

"Of course you should stay," Jack added as well, "Then tomorrow; I can blather on about ghosts and show you our inventions! Like the Ghost Portal!"

Now this caught Remus' attention. "You have…a what?"

Jack roughly grabbed Remus' shoulder with great enthusiasm, and Remus swore he heard himself rattle. "I knew you'd be interested!" he exclaimed while his family laughed at him with knowing affection.

Jazz simply smirked. "Our family's pretty dysfunctional, but personally, I think that's the only way we can function."

Remus started chuckling, and it soon turned into relieved laughter as the others joined in; the tension from earlier seeming to fade away with every breath and smile.

"How," he managed, "Can I refuse?"

The next morning, Remus awoke to a heavy weight on his left shoulder.

He scratched at the air above him and hit feathers.

Instantly, Remus was awake. He startled the owl and it hooted angrily at him, moving away in a flurry of wings to reorient itself on the couch that Remus had insisted on taking the night before. It handed the small piece of parchment to Remus with an imperious air.

Remus took it quickly and pulled out five Knuts and few bits of left over cracker, giving them too the owl as both payment, and to sooth the animal's ruffled feathers, so to speak. The owl left soon afterward, leaving Remus alone with the letter, his horror dawning with every word.

Dear Remus,

I apologize for my lack of reaction to your wonderful news, but I am afraid to inform you that I must call you back. You are needed here, as there has been word of a creature that you, I fear, already know intimately well.

Greyback has been lurking in the shadows for some time now, but it he has brazenly announced his return by openly attacking in broad daylight. The rumors have been confirmed.

I need you to infiltrate your own ranks, so to speak. I know this is difficult, and horribly wrong of me to request this of you, but I must at least ask you to try. Please bring the children with you, as I would be highly interested to meet them and find them a place to stay. If I have to, I will allow them to situate themselves at Grimmauld Place, though I hope that such circumstances will not come to pass.

With Sincere Regrets,

Albus Dumbledore.

He stared at the letter, almost not believing what was written in plain sight. Remus leapt off the couch and gathered his things.

He could only hope that the Fentons would understand his urgency.

"I have received word from my, well, I suppose in America you would call him my boss."

This announcement came at breakfast, where he knew everyone would be gathered. Jazz was making breakfast, along with Danny (to Remus' surprise), and the rest of the small group were already sitting at the dining table. At Remus' words, the entire collective audience whirled their heads around to pay attention.

"Really?" Maddie asked eagerly, "And what did he say?"

"As he is also the headmaster of the school you will be enrolled in, he gave me permission to not only affirm what I have suggested, but to take you back with me as well." Remus halted for a moment, not wishing to startle the group. "Today, if possible."

An exclamation of excited "Cool!"'s and "This is great!"'s echoed across the table. Remus held up a hand.

"Since I have completed my mission with exceedingly good timing…in addition to some urgent business that I must see to, I am free to leave," he explained for clarification.

Maddie paused. "You met Phantom?" she asked incredulously. "Already?"

"I was gone for that hour, as you so said," Remus answered with a smile. "And I'd prefer to say that Phantom found me…and he agreed to my suggestion."

"I suppose you'll be taking him off our hands then?" she asked him, as if this was one of the best things that could happen to this town. Remus frowned and realized the Phantom must have bothered the Fentons before, probably not making too good of an impression, seeing as the family hunted ghosts.

He simply nodded, finding it hard to anything else but, "Yes, I will be."

"I take it that leaving here now is alright? It's not too sudden I hope," he asked.

"More than alright!" Sam and Danny chorused together.

Maddie looked to Jack and voiced her concern. "Do we have enough luggage?" she asked her husband, who merely shrugged.

Remus smiled mysteriously. "Leave that to me."

There was a frantic sort of scurry throughout the Fenton household.

Remus found himself called away to help minimize and widen a whole slew of different items. Luggage was modified and articles of clothing were shrunk. Maddie had elected Jazz to swiftly shuffle Sam out to the mall to quickly allow the now slightly displaced girl to buy herself a few new outfits. Danny was left to call Tucker about the news, and Remus found himself explaining the urgency through the telephone himself. As he had never used one before…it had been entertaining to watch. Eventually, Tucker's parents agreed and said they would send Tucker and his entire luggage over to the Fenton's as soon as possible.

Jack, in all their copious spare time, took Remus down into his lab. To say that Remus had been awed by so much muggle lab equipment, which was used to capture ghosts of all things, would be an understatement.

The Ghost Portal had him wondering about whether or not the patriarch and the matriarch of the Fenton Tribe were in fact muggle at all.

"I need the schematics for this Portal," Remus said at last, grooming over every inch of the strange magical muggle device (which was supposed to be a contradiction). "If you don't mind," he amended, "This is a breakthrough between our worlds, you understand."

Jack gave him a strange look. "How so Lupin?" he asked.

"Muggles aren't supposed to have any magical abilities whatsoever," Remus explained, his hand on his chin, pacing in front of the glowing Portal. "This is going to prove many people wrong, and it may be a step closer to an understanding of sorts."

The large man (in what was finally described to him as a hazmat jumpsuit) frowned in thought. "I don't really know what you're saying… but I'm pretty sure it'll be safe with you!" he said at last, clapping Remus once more the shoulder, which almost caused the smaller man to fall over.

"I promise that the schematics will be safe with us," Remus managed, catching a breath. "I just wonder if other people will be safe from it," he murmured to himself as Jack walked away.

Sam, Jazz, and Tucker arrived a few minutes after Remus followed Jack upstairs, and it looked as if he had brought his entire room with him.

Danny and Sam had actually fallen over each other laughing at the sight. Tucker got rather huffy and insisted that needed everything he had brought, and he refused to go without them.

Remus, feeling greatly amused and a little sorry for the poor boy, volunteered to lighten the load, so to speak. After he was done, the pile had downsized from four large suitcases to two medium sized bags. Tucker mulishly thanked him for it.

Both families had insisted on saying goodbye in the teariest manner possible. Which made the kids embarrassed beyond all reason; especially Sam, who had to repeatedly tell each parent (and that included Jazz) that she would be just fine. This made Remus rest assuredly. They would always have support from family and friends, no matter how small a group they might make.

After all the goodbyes and hugs and multiple kisses on the cheeks of every teenager, Remus was left to explain the Emergency Floo System.

"'Floo'?" asked Sam curiously. "What is that?"

"In America, I believe you call it a fireplace," Remus explained. "It's what we'll be using to travel to England."

"It has the word 'emergency' in the title," Tucker added. "Why's that?"

Remus stood in front of the Fenton's fireplace and tried not to grin at their apparent nervousness. "Since I only have enough Floo Powder for one person to use, we must use the American Emergency Floo System. It allows us to step in all at once, as soon as I throw the powder into the fireplace."

"It'll automatically take you to where you want to go?" Danny asked with a little awe in his voice.

"Not quite," Remus admitted. "I have to tell it where to take us."

Remus held the small packet in his hands. "As soon as I yell, you three may step in, carefully, and try not to trip. That could be rather disastrous."

Not really paying attention to the panic that crossed each child's face at this proclamation, Remus hurled the packet into the fireplace, allowing it to burst into a bright green flame.

"Are you sure that's safe?" Tucker asked loudly.

"Positively," Remus muttered before yelling. "Hogwarts, Headmaster Dumbledore's Office!" He quickly looked to the three and gently nudged them forward. "You have to step in now! I'll be right behind you."

Danny grabbed his friends by the elbows, hurled all three of them into the green fire despite the yelps that followed, and disappeared.

Remus, with one last look at the two families, waved goodbye and followed the children into the familiar flame.

Chapter Text

Danny never ever wanted to experience that feeling again.

And judging by the groans and moans next to him, Sam and Tucker didn't either.

"Are you three alright?" came the now familiar calming voice of Remus Lupin. "I apologize for not warning you of the swirling sensation."

"Oh no," Sam replied, the sound of her words muffled by her luggage. "It was fun ."

"Ah, Remus," another voice resounded around them. "I am pleased to see you."

"Albus," Remus said, bowing his head. "Sorry for the sudden intrusion. I used the Emergency Floo System."

Danny looked up and shook his head, regaining his balance.

He was greeted by the sight of a strange old man, dressed in extravagant robes with a moon and stars design. A long white beard adorned his face, accompanied by another waterfall of white hair that flowed down his back. He wore half-moon glasses, and his eyes seemed to sparkle a bright icy blue. Danny blinked in surprise, nudging Sam and Tucker to get their bearings so they could see the old man as he did.

"And these are the children," the old man spoke once more, smiling kindly down at the three 'children' sprawled out on the floor.

"Ah yes," Remus answered for them. "If they could stand, I'm sure they would greet you," he added with a wry grin.

"Er, hello," Danny fumbled over his words slightly, feeling a strange pressure on his mind. "I'm Danny Fenton." Frowning slightly, he responded to the weird heaviness in his head by pressuring back in an almost automatic defense.

He blinked. The feeling was gone in an instant. It must've worked….

"Albus Dumbledore," the old man introduced himself formally, looking at Danny with great interest…Danny wasn't sure if that was good or bad. "Headmaster of Hogwarts. It is a pleasure to meet you…and…?"

Sam immediately stood up, trying to drag Tucker with her. "Sam Manson," she said by way of preamble. "And this lug here is Tucker Foley."

"I can tell him my name on my own Sam," Tucker grumbled. He stood up straight and wiped himself clean of soot. "Pleasure to meet you too, sir," he said in a lofty voice, which caused Danny to snort and Sam to muffle her laughter.

Dumbledore merely smiled. "I am glad we have this unique opportunity to talk," he said as he drew up a few chairs. Literally. "Remus was fortunate to locate you while you still had time to learn a few things about your own talents."

"If you don't mind me asking," Danny interrupted guiltily as he stood and fumbled his way into a chair. "Where are we, exactly?"

"A small part of Scotland that few venture to," Dumbledore replied. "This is Hogwarts, your future place of learning."

Sam looked severely interested as she sat as well, Tucker following her. "This place looks like it could be part of a castle made in the early middle ages." Danny blinked at her. He never knew she had any knowledge of architecture.

Dumbledore smiled. "A little earlier in fact, but you are correct, Ms. Manson."

The girl grinned, a small embarrassed expression that made her look vaguely not-Goth.

"So we'll be living in this castle?" Tucker exclaimed happily. "Where do you guys get electricity and running water all the way out here? I mean, you've gotta be a long ways out from any city, right?"

Danny silenced the amused sigh that threatened to escape his throat. Of course it had to be Tucker to ask all the practical, technologically inclined questions.

"Actually, Mr. Foley, we have no such thing as electricity here," the old man said with a secret smile. "But there is plenty of running water."

Danny's eyes widened. He quickly looked at Tucker, only to find a blank expression. Sam eyed her friend as well, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tuck, you okay?" she asked, her expression wary.

"N-no electricity?" Tucker said faintly, ignoring Sam. "Nothing at all?"

The Headmaster nodded. "We do not have electricity at Hogwarts because magic interferes with it; it does not allow electricity to work. Two vastly different types of energy do not mix well together." Lupin looked vaguely confused as to why this would be such a travesty.

Danny merely sighed. "I don't think he knows how to survive without technology," he explained briefly with an unnoticeable roll of his eyes.

Dumbledore glanced at the shocked Tucker and blinked. "Forgive me Mr. Foley," he said, still smiling that strange half-smile. "But is that strange device in your pocket still operational?"

There was a pause when Tucker took his ever-present PDA out of his pocket and stared at its still-lit screen. "Yeah…?" he answered with an unspoken question. Danny looked at Lupin and saw his expression go rather wide-eyed.

"That's not—how can it possibly work?" Lupin said in a rather stunned voice.

In Danny's brain, something clicked. "Wait, Tuck, wasn't that the PDA that Skul—that hunter ghost put in his armor? And wasn't it used by Tech—that other ghost too?"

Tucker seemed to wake from his trauma-induced stupor. "Yeah! It was!"

Dumbledore looked to Tucker with bemused interest. "A ghost was able to integrate that piece of muggle technology?" he asked curiously.

Danny nodded. "Yeah, it's been weird since."

"That doesn't surprise me," Lupin said in a muffled, but astonished voice.

"It has been magically tampered with," Dumbledore seemed to settle on that particular explanation. "Thus its continuous existence becomes clear." The old man smiled with a mysterious air.

Sam groaned as Tucker started to look exceedingly smug. "We are never going to here the end of this are we?" she asked Danny under her breath.

Danny merely snickered. "I doubt it."

As Tucker gleefully tinkered with the only operational PDA he had left, Dumbledore stepped forward, a reassuring smile on his face.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said at last.

And thus, they were bombarded with facts and history. Dumbledore covered the basic current situation of the Wizarding world at large today. He spoke of the Dark Lord, who name was Voldemort, and the visages of the three Americans darkened, especially Danny's, as he knew he would be hearing a lot more about the dark wizard soon.

The most interesting bit in this crash course was the background information concerning the four houses of Hogwarts. Danny hadn't expected it to be this selective, but the houses of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin were rather fitting; each one having their own favored personality traits made it easier to classify.

Sam had an expression on her face which made Danny believe that she was a more opposing of the idea of such classification. Later, she had told Danny that the system was much like making houses for geeks, jocks, preps, and Goths. Rationally, Danny had to agree, although he thought Sam was taking it a step further then it really was.

It was when Dumbledore explained how each child was sorted into their respective houses that Danny blinked in true surprise. "You let a hat choose?" he asked, for once skeptical.

"Indeed. It was imbued with the power to select students by the original founders of the school," Dumbledore explained. He took a bedraggled looking pointy hat off of one of the nearby shelves. "I will let you three be sorted in privacy; Remus, may I speak with you?" he asked the younger man, who started and nodded, leading the way out of Dumbledore's office.

He thought he was going first, assuming that they were going to go in alphabetical order according to some list. Thankfully, Professor Dumbledore was not inclined to follow the typical. Danny volunteered to go last, so he just sat patiently and waited.

Tucker, surprisingly, was the first to go in and put on the Sorting Hat. He was in there for scarce a minute before he came out, beaming.

"Ravenclaw," he announced proudly, sitting down next to his friend. "Apparently, it's the smart house."

Danny tried to smile, but managed a half-grimace instead. Tucker noticed this and quietly silenced himself. He knew his friend was prone to anxiety fits, and by now he there was a palpable taste of apprehension in the air. He smiled in an encouraging manner and thought it best not to say a word.

Next went Sam, who looked thrilled to the put the moth-eaten rag on her head. After a minute, she came out with a small smile on her face.

"Gryffindor," she answered the unasked question with a bit of surprise in her voice. "I guess we won't be in the same house together," she added apologetically to Tucker, who merely shrugged. She didn't sound disappointed, but she looked a bit nervous at the idea nonetheless.

Danny stood up and entered the room feeling his legs wobble significantly. The Hat sat on the desk, looking completely innocuous. Danny knew better, and he sat down on the provided chair, grabbing the Hat roughly and shoving it on his head.

Oh? Now this is interesting.

Danny nearly fell off the chair. Who are you?

I'm the Sorting Hat, of course. And you are Daniel Fenton, correct?

Danny thought of nothing and instinctively tried to close off any and all thoughts that could be… possibly condemning evidence.

Do not fear, the Hat chuckled. All of our little conversations are confidential. My eyes are far too prying to allow me to spread such information freely. Although your… condition is interesting.

For some reason, Danny relaxed. Right…so, what are you going to do?

I'm just here to see what house suits you best. That is what a Sorting Hat does .

Danny huffed silently, keeping to his own thoughts for the moment, allowing the Hat to think.

A few seconds passed before… You have intelligence, but you are not adapt to using it often.

Hey!

Oh, but you are not afraid to admit it, are you?

...No.

Good, then your lack of experience will diminish quickly.

I'm overjoyed.

Ah, sarcasm. You have a cynical side, yes? There's certainly a dark side of your mind, a side which you swear you will never unleash again.

Danny's expression darkened instinctually. Yes.

The darkness within is not necessarily evil. It is most likely misunderstood.

Not mine , Danny warned, his own thoughts reverberating regret.

Yours most of all, Daniel. You must learn to understand it before you condemn it…I see a house where you can learn to do just that.

Really?

Indeed. You are smart enough for Ravenclaw and loyal enough for Hufflepuff. Certainly brave enough for Gryffindor, and I am severely tempted to place you there…however….

Danny sighed. What? He asked this with a flat tone of one who has heard this sort of stalling device before.

It seemed that the hat was pausing to ponder its next bit of information. The darkness you have seen within yourself distances you from normal Gryffindor traits.

There was nothing Danny could add to that statement. He only wondered if the Hat was right. It didn't feel like a happy thought.

The Hat continued. In Gryffindor, you would learn how to gain mastery over others, which would undoubtedly give you strength. In Slytherin, however, you would gain mastery over yourself, and that, Daniel, would make you fearless.

Danny blinked at this. His apprehension seemed to be fading, the Hat's words rolling over in his head. After a few minutes of complete silence, Danny decided.

So…Slytherin?

"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the Hat in response. Danny, who was grinning slightly as he took off the enchanted Hat, swore he heard the piece of patched cloth chuckle out loud.

"Slytherin?" asked Sam curiously as her friend walked back over to them.

"Yup." Danny felt quite pleased with himself, for some reason. "The Hat pretty much had me on that one."

"I see it talked to you too," Sam muttered. "That was slightly disturbing."

"Well, we may all be in different houses, but that doesn't mean we can't still hang out, right?" Tucker looked at his friends with a nervous grin.

"Are you kidding?" Danny asked with incredulity. "Who else can I talk to about… stuff ?" There was a tone to the word 'stuff' that made other people in the room give Danny curious looks.

"I see you have found your houses," Dumbledore interrupted kindly, making his reentry into the room more obvious, Remus following behind him.

He had their attention, and the three of them nodded. "Gryffindor," Sam said simply.

"Ravenclaw," Tucker grinned.

"Slytherin," Danny responded in turn.

Remus' expression turned curious as he eyed Danny from behind Dumbledore, the headmaster also bit perturbed. Danny felt he like a goldfish for a moment, stuck in a glass bowl with all eyes on him.

The scrutiny dissipated as soon as he had felt it appear

"Congratulations!" Dumbledore announced brightly, the ever-present twinkle still in his eye. "I am sure, by now, you are all wondering where you shall be staying during your time here."

The old man gestured towards Remus. "Mr. Lupin will continue chaperoning you for the day at least. You will need supplies for the coming year, as well as funds for such supplies." Dumbledore moved closer to his desk, nearing an empty perch. "A visit to Gringotts would be in order, in addition to a quick trip down Diagon Alley," he said in Remus' direction. Remus merely nodded.

"Uh," Danny suddenly remembered. "Where will we be staying?" he asked.

"I took it upon myself to owl Miss Hermione Granger, a soon-to-be-fellow student—and fellow housemate to you, Miss Manson. She shall take you in for the next month until term starts," he explained.

"Are you sure we aren't imposing?" Sam immediately asked, her worry clearly evident.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Her parents thought it would be an investment for them as much as Miss Granger did."

As Sam appeared mollified, Tucker poked his head back into the conversation. "Do they have a 'No Tech' rule too?" he asked, his tone accusatory.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I am quite sure that they do not, Mr. Foley. They are muggles, quite like what you three assumed you were up until yesterday."

Danny was smiling until he gasped, a small amount of blue mist escaping his mouth. He immediately closed it, but not before the two adults gave him an odd look.

Sam took this as a cue to stake her claim in a different conversation. "Sir," she began respectfully, "We come from a place where ghosts are, well, everywhere. Are there any ghosts in the castle?" she asked, a completely innocent expression on her face.

"After Remus explained that this Phantom ghost originated in your town, I was wondering when you would ask that question," Dumbledore replied smiling. "To that, I answer, yes. We have many ghosts here, all non-threatening, I assure you. Except maybe Peeves, our resident poltergeist."

Remus had an expression of exasperation on his face that said it all, really.

"Is Danny Phantom gonna be staying at the castle?" Tucker asked, interrupting.

Dumbledore looked to Remus, who was startled by the question. "I was under the impression that he might not join us," the Headmaster said curiously. "Remus?"

Sam indirectly smacked Tucker on the back of the head. Her glare kept him from yelling. Remus simply looked contemplative. "The answer he gave me was inconclusive, but," he looked to Tucker, who regained his composure gracefully. "They have known the ghost for longer than I, perhaps they know his actions better."

Sam grinned weakly, "Heh, yeah. He's all for the good and light and all that," she said, all the while hoping that Danny would start breathing again.

Remus looked happier at that. "Then there's more of a chance that he'll join us," the man stated.

Danny inhaled and exhaled once, and then grinned in a shaky manner.

Tucker and his mouth….

"I think that is enough for today; your brains must be swimming with new information," Dumbledore said decisively. "Remus? Take the Floo to The Leaky Cauldron; you can enter the Alley from there."

Remus nodded once and gestured for the three to stand and follow him.

"It was a pleasure to meet you sir," Sam said with a polite nod. Danny and Tucker quickly nodded as well.

Their new Headmaster merely smiled once again, his eyes allowing his merriment to come to the surface. "The pleasure was mine Miss Manson, Mssrs. Fenton and Foley," he said in a warm, grand fatherly voice. "We will meet again."

A flash of now familiar emerald green grabbed the teens' attentions. They waved back to Dumbledore and disappeared after Remus, leaving a troubled old man frowning in thought.

Diagon Alley was fantastic.

Not in the typical sense of the word; it was truly fantastical. Everything seemed to be in constant motion, and the eccentric crowd only made it more exotic and magical.

Danny wanted to be everywhere at once, and he silently bemoaned the fact that he couldn't just duplicate himself in broad daylight. His mind was racing excitedly as he eyed various knick-knacks that lined the small crooked street. He swore he had passed a shop that had a floating book or two, along with a strange assortment of plants and animals he had never seen before, even in the ghost zone. …And were those brooms ?

Sam and Tucker seemed to want to follow suit, as there were far too many things to explore then was possible in the allotted time they had here in the Alley. Remus was walking behind the three of them, smiling in an almost indulgent manner as they abandoned their hardened teenaged exteriors and felt free to immerse themselves in a new and strange culture.

Strange didn't even begin to describe Gringotts.

Both Tucker and Danny yelped in surprise at the goblins, while Sam frowned in suspicion. "Are they getting paid? Were they forced to do this?" she asked as one goblin marched by with an impressively large stack of paper.

"Paid? Oh yes," Remus said pleasantly. "Goblins are exceptionally crafty, shrewd, and have been discovered to be excellent businessmen. They were the ones who helped establish wizarding economics and trade from the very beginning." He grinned. "Even if they weren't getting paid, they would do this anyway."

Sam nodded, looking satisfied, while Danny tried not to stare at the diminutive, but dangerous looking creatures.

Remus was a different person when dealing with the goblins; rational and formal, he was hardly the warm and friendly man they had come to know. The goblins apparently found this incredibly polite and treated him great courtesy. He opened new vaults for the three of them, and asked for a transfer of funds, a.k.a their scholarships, from Vault 4 to their respective accounts. According to the Ministry of Magic, they were still minors. That meant that they were under the care of Hogwarts and its entire staff. It would have been too complicated to have one person take the three of them into custody, as they did have legal and binding ties to their parents, who were also in America .

To add to the strangeness, Remus, with a letter of permission from Dumbledore, announced that he needed to get money from the Hogwarts Vault (number four) in order to pay for the supplies they had to buy that very day. Danny expected a simple wait, maybe even a walk to the vault, not a dizzying journey to the center of the earth via something that, in the right light, looked suspiciously like a hand basket.

Even as they watched the goblin stretch out a finger and somehow open the solid metal door, the three teens felt so unbalanced that they couldn't even gasp in surprise.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Tucker mumbled, holding his stomach.

Danny never thought he'd be happier to see the sky, especially when he heard one of the goblins asking each other whether or not they had remembered to feed the dragon on level seven.

After that ordeal, Remus suggested that they gather their robes and essentials first. Danny and Tucker looked dismayed; robes weren't exactly their idea of a fashion 'do.' Sam was simply excited about being able to wear black all the time and not getting harassed by those who didn't seem to separate the concept of liking the color black, and being Goth.

So off they went. Getting fitted for robes at Madam Malkin's was only slightly mortifying; the woman kept going on and on about his eyes and how pretty a blue they were…and soon Danny was being stuffed into clothes he wouldn't even wish on Dash. As his friends were too busy laughing, Remus stepped in to rescue him, but Madam Malkin refused to let him leave without buying this one very elegant black and blue outfit. She protested that 'the boy' needed dress robes, while Remus was insistent that they had little time to waste on this argument. Danny just muttered that he wouldn't wear anything with the word 'dress' in the title ever again. Remus paused in surprise at the word 'again,' but eventually sighed and settled on buying the fancy robes, if only to let Danny escape.

Tucker and Sam slipped by this ordeal without incident. Danny swore to himself that he wouldn't be the only one humiliated today.

As soon as they got their robes, they went to buy potions ingredients. Danny was all over the store, asking questions that made him look rather silly by wizarding standards, but Remus seemed mildly impressed. Sam looked disgusted at the display of 'fermented' animals, but after Remus said that she wouldn't be able to pass the class without the ingredients, she reluctantly bought them without much protest. Tucker smirked at her the whole time, which didn't help her keep her mouth shut. After one particularly gross purchase (a vial full of strange formerly furry creatures), she stepped on his foot when he started nudging her in the ribs. Danny did look a little smug, but he was still bitter about the Malkin's Incident, so Sam forgave him. A bit.

A little while after the apothecary visit, and after they bought parchment and ink (which Tucker seemed extremely distressed about), they visited the bookstore.

Book buying was an almost mind-blowing experience. Danny was suspiciously hovering near the magical creatures section before sidling over to look at the books focused mostly on ghosts and the afterlife. Remus merely arched an eyebrow, before steering him and his friends (Sam was eyeing the dark arts selections, while Tucker had taken a liking to the muggle vs. wizard section of the shop) to the counter to request all the books they would need to start the fifth year.

"Won't we need the books from the previous years?" asked Sam curiously as the man behind the counter rung up their purchase.

Remus shook his head. "Miss Granger will provide you with all past materials; I see no reason to buy new books."

"She still has them?" Danny asked in surprise.

The man smiled in a knowing manner as he handed over a few galleons or so. "Hermione Granger would never sacrifice a book, no matter how inconsequential."

The three eyed each other and shrugged. Sam's expression suggested that she wanted to meet this Hermione Granger person, and Danny was unsurprised.

When they had learned that they were allowed pets, Tucker immediately shook his head. "I had a cactus once, and it died. It died ," he stressed. "I'm less nurturing then a desert . What makes you think I can handle a living breathing creature?"

Sam had thought about it, but she said she decide later. "I'm not sure how to take care of an owl…and frogs are slightly useless," she admitted. "A cat? Maybe—but I think I'll wait until after we get our wands."

Danny had practically leapt for joy. "Is there a place nearby where we can get one?" he asked eagerly. He knew that dogs weren't allowed, but there was a good chance he could get something else.

Remus tried not to laugh, but nodded and took them to the Magical Menagerie. Inside, they found another large assortment of animals and objects they had never seen.

Danny zipped around the store like…like Tucker at a Best Buy. Sam couldn't help it. She laughed hysterically and had to be taken outside so she could giggle without fear of retribution.

Their chaperon for the day had mentioned something earlier about owls and how they would deliver messages. So Danny, feeling practical, eventually came to look at the various species of owl that were available.

Most of the animals were calm around him, but one owl in particular kept staring at him. It was predominantly black, covered from wing to beak in white and grey spots. Danny stared back for a moment before grinning.

"Wow, he's beautiful Danny!" cried Sam when Danny exited the Menagerie with an Eagle Owl perched on his shoulder, the pet's cage in his arms. She reached a few fingers to scratch the owl's head. "What's its name?"

"I'm not sure yet," he admitted. "But he deserves something cool." Tucker tentatively touched the owl on its head, and was relieved when the thing didn't bite back. Danny looked at Remus, who was checking a small pouch for remaining coins. "Thanks…really," he said to the man, who looked up at him once he realized Danny wasn't talking to the air.

Remus gave a modest grin. "Don't thank me Danny," he insisted. "Thank Dumbledore and several strict rules concerning under-privileged students."

"Name him something cool Danny," Sam insisted seriously. "Like Spooky!"

Danny grimaced. "Oh no…come on Sam," he said, pained. "How about…."

"Gadget?" suggested Tucker with a smarmy grin.

The pale boy actually made a face at that one. "I think I like—,"

"Draco?" suggested Sam, still scratching at the Owl's head. "He looks regal enough," she said sheepishly as the owl gave her a look.

Danny grinned. "Yeah! I always liked that constellation."

The newly christened 'Draco' nibbled at Danny's fingers affectionately.

Remus' inner thoughts consisted mainly of laughing loudly at the irony. He did his best not to connect the young Malfoy child to the owl on Danny's shoulder.

Finally, they came to get their wands.

Remus insisted that he would wait outside, as he needed to check on something anyway.

Ollivander's was by far the spookiest place Danny had ever entered. This, as most of us know, was saying quite a lot.

"Hello?" the boy called out, putting down his bags on the wooden floor.

"Maybe he's not here," Sam said, a little on edge. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Hello."

The voice appeared right next to Danny's ear and he yelped, jumping backwards into Sam, who screamed and bumped into Tucker, who simply fell over.

Breathing heavily, and blushing bright red, Danny turned to look at the person who had startled him so badly while his friends sheepishly helped each other up off the floor.

"I'm sorry to have startled you so," the somewhat otherworldly voice said again, and came out of the shadows. The most interesting thing Danny noticed first was that the man's eyes were something like mother of pearl; shiny smooth and glass like, with a sheen to them that made shivers go up Danny's spine.

"It's ok," he managed to what was obviously the shopkeeper. "Um, we're here for wands?"

"Ah yes," the shopkeeper smiled at the three. "The Americans?" he asked, turning his back on them as he went to rummage for some of his equipment.

"Heh, right," Danny said with relief, the shaky feeling in his limbs fading. Nobody had startled him that badly for quite some time now.

"Dumbledore sent word to me of your impending arrival," he explained. He faced them once more, holding what looked like a tape measure. "I am Mr. Ollivander," the man introduced himself. "And you shall find only the finest unicorn, phoenix, and dragon cores here."

The three teens looked mildly confused, and Danny wondered what Ollivander meant by 'cores.'

There was pause before Ollivander took another step forward, a mild look of amusement on his face. "Who shall be the first?"

Danny and Tucker both took a step back, leaving Sam on her own. She blinked and then turned to glare at them ferociously. Both boys grimaced. That was going to come back to bite them. Hard.

"Miss…?"

"Sam Manson," she said, gritting her teeth at her friends' simultaneous betrayal.

The man gestured at her slightly. "Which arm is your wand arm?"

Sam looked puzzled, and slowly held out her left arm with unsure hesitance.

Immediately, the tape measure leapt out of Mr. Ollivander's hands and began to measure her arm, height, finger length…and other random parts of anatomy.

Danny hoped she hadn't heard his snickering.

A few seconds later and Sam was busy waving wands around in a similar manner to the way Lupin had first tested them for magic. Side effects included two broken vases, five disarrayed bookshelves, a tiny black kitten, and a small burst of fireworks. The fireworks were a strange mix of black and purple and they had danced around Sam in a wonderful display of light and dark sparks.

Apparently, this was a sign that she had picked the right one.

Ollivander looked pleased. "It is not often that I have the pleasure of selling my more interesting wands." He held up Sam's wand and eyed the kitten, which was clinging to Sam's leg protectively, with amused curiosity. "9 ½ inches, hair of a Dryad, and an interesting mixture of wood…lignum vine, rosewood, and black palm…very diversified Miss Manson, an exceptional wand for divination and charms."

Sam beamed and tried to pry the small black cat off her leg. "I like the sound of that." She watched as Ollivander packaged her wand and held up the cat.

"It's a girl," she said as she looked to her friends. Danny was smiling at her apparent enthusiasm and Tucker was snickering.

"I can't believe you made a cat," he said smirking. "First baby chickens and now a kitten? You must be more of a sentimentalist than I thought."

Sam made a face. "I said I didn't like humans; doesn't mean I can't like animals. I am a vegetarian you know." The kitten in her arms purred happily and made to perch on her shoulder. Sam laughed and plucked the hyper kitten off, and tried to hand her to Tucker, who had been looking at the creature with great interest.

The kitten hissed and her paws tried to swipe at Tucker and instead, it leapt out of Sam's hands to land on Danny.

Danny froze; the cat had almost perforated Tuck's hands. He didn't want to endanger himself.

"That thing's a menace!" cried Tucker, glaring at Sam.

"Maybe it can sense that you're a carnivore," she suggested in a meaningful tone.

"Guys…."

"Oh yeah sure, nice defense Sam," Tucker muttered. "You aren't seriously thinking about keeping it, are you?"

"Guys?"

Sam glared and huffed. "So what if I am? You got a problem with that?"

"Guys!"

"What?!" came the two annoyed voices. Abruptly, the anger in the room evaporated as Sam and Tucker simultaneously dissolved into snickers.

The cat had nestled itself into Danny's arms, as he had had them crossed just before the feline landed. It was fast asleep and looked plenty comfortable.

"I'm going to not say anything," Danny grumbled as he gently placed the still sleeping kitten in Sam's open arms. "Just let me get my wand. This place still gives me the creeps."

Tucker was still snickering. He opened his mouth to say something when Sam gave him the evil eye. He quickly shut his mouth. There were some things better left unsaid; especially when said things would cause damage that no amount of medicine could heal.

Mr. Ollivander came out from the back room and handed Sam her wand. Danny walked over with a small smile.

"And you are…?"

"Danny Fenton," he replied with a nervous nod. Needing no prompting, he held out his right hand.

Ollivander raised an eyebrow and the tape measure leapt into action once more.

"Here," the old man said as he the tape measure disappeared. There was a dark red wood wand in his hand. "Try this one. Holly 9 ½ inches, dragon heartstring."

Danny picked the wand out of his hands and waved it, as he had watched Sam's demonstration and knew what to do. He barely got the stick half-way up in the air before it was snatched back.

"No no no, no good at all. Here, rosewood and maple, 11 inches, unicorn hair."

And so on and so forth. Danny had thought waiting for Sam to find her own wand was a tedious experience; it was nothing compared to his own search. Another strange fact was that there were no side-effects: no flying books or magically appearing cats…nothing. Ollivander didn't look perturbed until they reached his 22nd wand, when once again, nothing happened.

Maybe there's been a mistake, Danny wondered, fretting. Maybe I don't really have magic. He felt his heart sink a little.

"Alright, Mr. Fenton," Ollivander proclaimed, and handed him another wand. "Not to worry, there's a wand for every wizard." He gave Danny a small mysterious glance. "11 ¾ inches, bloodwood, yew and ebony with the fang of a Shi Zi Gou…that's an extremely powerful and exotic mixture, Mr. Fenton."

Before he took the wand, Danny looked confused. "What's a -?"

"Shi Zi Gou? Ah, the Chinese Lion Dog. Powerful and rare creatures they are," Ollivander replied. "They are able to walk the mortal and spiritual planes as a medium and protector."

Danny looked curious, but said nothing. He gripped the wand in his hand and waved it, this time feeling a strange cold tingling in his fingers. As soon as it was above his head, the wand exploded in a bright green, almost white light. He squinted before the light died down, leaving him seeing spots.

Ollivander smiled in satisfaction. "There, you see?" he said before snatching the wand from his still fingers to pack it for him and heading off to the back room, giving Danny a shrewd, calculating look as he went. Curious ….

Danny shook his head and focused on the wall in front of him, trying to see straight.

"Hey Danny, what was that light?" came Tucker's voice ahead of him. Danny took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A second later, and he was face to face with both his friends, and their concerned faces.

"What is it?" he asked, still feeling light headed.

Sam put a hand on his forehead. "Your eyes went green," she said in a low undertone. "That Ollivander guy didn't see it because of your wand. You sure you're okay?"

Danny nodded uncertainly. "I suppose," he answered. Both Sam and Tucker exchanged glances, but let it slide.

It was a few seconds later that Ollivander came out to hand him his now boxed wand. Tucker patted him reassuringly on the shoulder as he went up to get his own magical bit of wood. Danny merely smiled and followed Sam and her cat to wait in the lobby.

Tucker only spent a few minutes of experimental wand-waving before he came back out, with a 10 ¼ inches, kingwood and walnut, with the talon of a sphinx, which was supposedly good for transfiguration or something like that. He had a self-satisfied expression on his face, and Danny suddenly wanted something embarrassing to happen to him. Sam smiled and held up her kitten, nuzzling noses with it even as it squirmed.

"Don't worry," she said sympathetically. "He'll get his turn…eventually." She smiled at him, and suddenly, Danny felt a lot better.

Apparition, the art of instant transportation, wasn't exactly an easy bit of magic to do when you had three other people to take along with you. Remus explained that side-along, apparition with extra people, would be a bit tiresome and possibly detrimental.

"What would be detrimental?" Sam asked curiously.

Remus gave Sam a pained look. "Sometimes, when apparating for the first time or going side-along with too many others, you can get splinched."

Danny didn't like the sound of the word, and according to his friends' expressions, neither did they. "What does 'splinched' mean?" Danny asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

Remus winced. "It happens with beginners mostly," he said, "but 'splinching' is where you apparate and lose…bits along the way."

Danny looked slightly disturbed, but it wasn't anything he hadn't experienced already when he was experimenting with duplication. Sam and Tucker, however, looked rather ill.

The man waved a hand. "As I said, we won't be doing any of that just yet," he said reassuringly. "We'll be going to a muggle residence that's not on the Floo Network. Therefore…," he explained, and held out his wand in the air.

There was a loud snapping sound as a large, purple, triple-decker bus appeared from what looked like thin air. Tucker screamed like a girl and hopped backward from the curb they were standing on. Danny snorted with laughter as Sam, the sounds of a giggle escaping her lips even as she helped Tucker off the ground. Revenge was sweet indeed.

Remus blinked in bemused surprise at Tucker's outburst and continued, "…We'll be taking the Knight Bus."

Danny hadn't experienced so many twists and turns before in his life. On the ground, that is—oh, and when his dad was driving. So far, this was the third time they had been taken on a trip which involved death-defying speeds, and strange-looking transport devices on this day alone. The halfa suddenly felt very much at home.

The bus took a turn which, if Danny remembered his physics, broke a few laws concerning gravity. He felt his stomach turn and he grimaced as his friends mimicked his motions; he decided not to move unless it was absolutely necessary, clutching the handle bar nearest to him with clear desperation.

When they arrived, Tucker leapt from the bus in exultation, yelling "LAND!" while Danny and Sam clutched each other, laughing at the sight. It was darker outside than before; the time changes had finally caught up to the three teens, and they felt more like falling over and crashing…which, as Remus soon assured them, was an option that was rapidly approaching.

The Granger residence wasn't large, nor was it small, by any means. It had the comfortable look of an above middle class family of three.

Lupin had shrunk their entire luggage and had put the now miniature suitcases into a small box (much earlier than mentioned, actually). Tucker had shuddered at the thought of his poor technology, most of which was now partially obsolete. Sam had patted him on the shoulder with sympathy and said that he could at least put them up in this dorm room as trophies. He had made a friendly swipe at her shoulder, which she had dodged while laughing.

"The Grangers are a muggle family, and Hermione Granger is currently a student at Hogwarts. She's one of the brightest in the school, so she will also help tutor you in addition to myself." Remus had explained himself earlier before they left Diagon Alley. "I will also teaching you in between my various tasks. Between the two of us, Dumbledore, and yourselves, provided you study, you should be able to comprehend most of the fifth year curriculum before you enter Hogwarts. There will of course be extra tutoring during the coming school year, but that is to be expected…you only have a month to learn the basics after all."

The idea of a girl their own age teaching them anything was an alien thought; none of them had ever had a peer tutor.

When they reached the front door, Remus knocked swiftly.

They heard muffled sounds of voices from inside the house, and a few quick footsteps in quick succession.

A second later, and the door opened.

"Professor Lupin!" a feminine voice exclaimed. All three Americans stretched their necks to peer over Remus' shoulder.

"Hermione," Remus smiled. "It's very nice to see you again."

As a courtesy to his curious charges, Remus stepped a bit to the left. The feminine voice had obviously come from the girl at the front door. Bushy brown hair and an expression which denoted a higher level of intelligence; such traits suggested she had scholarly habits by appearance alone.

"Danny, Sam, Tucker?" Remus introduced, "This is Hermione Granger. Fellow classmate, and soon to be tutor. Hermione? These are the American transfers, Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Hermione said kindly. "I can imagine this must be quite a lot to take in at once," she said in an understanding voice. "But I promise to help as much as I can." The firm tone she carried reminded Danny heavily of Jazz.

Danny smiled. She didn't seem too bad. "Thanks," he spoke up first. "For letting us stay for a month; we'll try our best not to free-load," he added with an apologetic smirk.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, thanks a lot," she said in earnest.

Tucker, who had sworn to himself not to be awkward, nodded fervently.

"We are happy to have you," a masculine voice responded. Danny and his friends snapped their gazes upward.

"I'm sorry mum, dad," Hermione said in a laughing voice. "These are the exchange students!"

"I gathered as much," Mrs. Granger said in a warm voice. The lady nodded her head in Remus' direction. "I appreciate your help in getting them here," she said. "Hermione has been nagging us to get registered with the Floo Network, and we never listened—,"

"I suppose now you will?" Hermione interjected with a smug look. Mr. Granger rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Hermione, you win," he said kindly. "Shall we let our guests wait out in the night air, or are we going to let them in?" he asked amused.

Everyone chuckled at this, and Remus moved aside to gather the additional luggage they had acquired earlier in the day as the others moved inside.

The only thought that was going through Danny's tired, drained, but happy brain, was:

This is going to be an interesting year….

Chapter Text

Vlad Masters wasn't a patient man.

He pretended he was, but it was merely a farce he maintained in order to get what he wanted.

There hadn't been any sign of Daniel for about two weeks. He had been monitoring Miss Grey's equipment, and though there had been the usual daily bombardment of ghosts, there had been no Daniel blustering his way into the fight.

He didn't underestimate the boy; Vlad had learned that lesson when they first met. But the absence of "Phantom's" presence in Amity Park had become unsettling, not only to him, but to just about everyone else in the small city.

The plebeians don't understand how much he does for this pathetic little town, Vlad thought in disgust. Of course Daniel, being the heroic fool he was, had stated many times that their waxing and waning faith in him was inconsequential. Vlad was beginning to wonder if he should just kidnap the boy and force him into an apprenticeship with the serious threat of blackmail or framing. There was so much he could teach him….

So, for lack of digital evidence, Vlad made a little trip to the Fenton family homestead.

"Vladdy my man! It's great to see you!"

Vlad struggled within an iron-grip of a hug. "Always…" he gritted out, annoyance sliding beneath his words as he slipped out of Jack's over enthusiastic grasp.

"It's a pleasure to see you here," Maddie said sweetly as she gestured him inside.

"Yes," Vlad said warmly, his disposition changing swiftly, "And it is always a pleasure to see you Maddie."

"Won't you come in?" she gestured towards the couch. Vlad nodded, and swiftly made his way over to the sofa, sitting with as much regality as possible without putting anyone off.

"Thank you for having me," Vlad said in a silky manner. "I know it is a bit abrupt of me to do so without so much as calling you before hand."

"Oh no, it's perfectly alright," Maddie smiled, sitting down next to Jack. "I know I've had misgivings about you," she said in a fairly pointed manner that Jack didn't seem to acknowledge (whether that was pure stupidity or ignorance, Vlad wasn't entirely sure). "But after that whole business with the ghost invasion – you finding our Danny and all – you will always be welcome in our home."

"Thank you," Vlad said, voice grateful, yet not at the same time. "Actually, my visit regards young Daniel." His fingers absently tapped the couch where he was sitting; for some reason his patience was almost non-existent today – he was already dismissing pleasantries. "Is he here?"

Maddie and Jack looked at him with surprise. "Danny? Oh…no! No, he isn't here at the moment – as a matter of fact, he'll be away until next summer."

Vlad's expression froze. "Pardon?"

Jack grinned proudly. "He got accepted into an overseas school."

"It was the best we could hope for," Maddie stood up, a bit surprised at the look of shock on Vlad's face. "With his grades and all," she said dryly. "Would you like something to drink?"

It took a brief moment to recollect himself in order to respond. "Oh yes, of course, thank you. Tea?"

"As always," Maddie remembered, wandering into the kitchen.

Being left alone with Jack to talk to, and no hidden agenda to further at the moment, Vlad floundered for a moment. "Jack, tell me, what sort of school?"

"It's a private school," the larger man said avidly. "They only take the special kids."

Special?

"I assume this program is costly." It wasn't a question.

Jack winced, but quickly recovered. "Well, he was offered a scholarship too."

This made Vlad raise both eyebrows in surprise. It was highly unlikely that this was true – Daniel, though intelligent, was not very school-friendly. His study habits left quite a lot to be desired, and horrible grades were the result.

He apparently hadn't learned how to cheat yet. How unfortunate.

"Of course," Vlad said smoothly. "It is a wonderful opportunity to be awarded such a privilege," he added just as Maddie reentered the room.

"True," she said, smiling as she handed out the tea. Vlad noticed a small hesitance in her expression and took the opportunity to dig deeper.

"What's the school's name?" he asked innocently.

"Oh it's not that special," Maddie hastily interrupted, as Jack was about to say something. "It's just this small place in Great Britain where they specialize in honing certain abilities that improve a child's study habits."

Vlad raised another eyebrow. "Is Jasmine there as well?"

"Oh no, she wasn't accepted," Maddie said sadly. "But she took it in stride and wished her brother good luck. I swear, they seem to have gotten closer this year – more so than ever," she trailed off thoughtfully.

If the whole scholarship nonsense wasn't enough to trigger doubt, Jasmine's non-acceptance was the clincher. No school would say no to those grades.

Jasmine and Daniel are only closer because she knows his secret; I wonder if he would be worse off if she didn't….Hmm.

"Why on earth wasn't Jasmine invited?" Vlad put just enough incredulous sincerity into his tone. "Not to offend Daniel, but she is quite the little" – meddling– "genius."

Maddie and Jack both, instead of smiling proudly, grinned uneasily. "The school is for students with brilliant potential, but lacking in the discipline to get through regular school," Maddie said quickly while Jack nodded.

Vlad couldn't believe it. They were hiding something!

"Ah, I see," he said slowly. "Well, do tell Daniel I wish him the best."

They both seemed to sag in relief. Vlad's brain churned.

It couldn't be his secret; otherwise they wouldn't let him go anywhere. It has to be something else…but what on earth could it be?

"What was the name of the school again?" he asked, trying to pry it out of them once more.

"Hogwarts –" Jack began.

"School for Students of Excellence," finished Maddie hurriedly. "It's really hard to find," she insisted. "But if you wish to contact Danny, just give us your mail!" she said brightly.

Vlad resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jack had been honest about the name – who could lie about a name like that? And Maddie insisting on written letters as opposed to e-mail….Yes. They were hiding something about the school , not necessarily Daniel himself.

"Oh, would you look at the time!" Maddie said, standing up in shock. "Jack and I have a very important meeting to attend to tonight, and it's in Washington D.C! We better get packing, right Jack?" Maddie practically shouted the last bit of the sentence. Jack sat bewildered before getting up at the look of urgency on his wife's face, and heading to the lab at top speed.

Before Vlad could say anything, Maddie had wished him good day and left him on the doorstep, frustrated and confused.

He turned his back and walked back to his personal limo, glaring the entire way.

If Daniel doesn't want to be found, then I will find him. He can't hide forever…and I will discover his new secret. …Whether Maddie likes it or not.

Two weeks had passed in rapid time.

In the intervening period, Danny, Tucker, and Sam had practiced basic magic in all its shapes and forms from dawn to dusk every day. Hermione had grilled them on facts and procedures, mostly theory work, making sure they had the details. Meanwhile, Remus made a conscious effort to pop in every once in a while, assessing their practical skills to balance it out.

Hermione had been trusted to teach four years worth of curriculum in two month's. She had been extremely reluctant at first, dubious as to the reason why Dumbledore would choose her of all people. When she had begun to mention the situation to her parents, they had smiled at her.

"Hermione, dear," her mother interjected. "You are one of the brightest witches in Hogwarts; I'm not saying that because I'm your mother, I'm saying it because your grades and test scores…and survival, have proved that fact."

Her father nodded. "Plus, it'll be nice to have some one your age over for a visit. They are, what was the term…ah, muggleborn as well, are they not?"

Hermione had a secret suspicion that her parents believed she didn't have many friends, thus their insistence on letting the Americans stay. She felt like protesting that idea, but she let herself give in to her parents' presumption. She had friends, it was simply the fact that they didn't visit (or in Harry's case, couldn't visit).

It was strange, but the three exchange students were more than just simple muggleborns. The fact that they were aware of ghosts before they learned they were magically inclined surprised her greatly. When she asked how that was possible, Danny gave her a pained look and told her to sit down.

"It's a long story…" he had begun.

So Amity Park had a 'ghost portal.' He was a bit evasive about who owned said portal, but what ever bit of knowledge he did relinquish astounded her, and made her more interested in muggle technology than ever before. She asked the poor boy so many questions, that Saman— oh…right, Sam , put a hand on her shoulder and asked her politely to stop, or Danny's brain might explode.

Hermione had felt at first that she would be polite and congenial, and then even if Sam, Tucker, or Danny were not pleasant, she wouldn't be affected even if she was teaching them. But after the first few days of their company, she found that they were just as fun and exciting to be around as Ron or Harry and possibly the Weasley twins (she only said 'possibly' because the Americans were almost as mischievous as they…when the three were in the mood).

She was also glad that they weren't foolish. And by foolish, she meant thick. It was hard enough to teach so much in so little time, but if she had to deal with a bunch of dunderheads she might have politely asked Dumbledore to let someone else take them for tutoring.

The amount of revision, and this type of revision was not just for their benefit; Hermione had planned to do this before term began in preparation for the O.W.Ls, but having a few new friends made the relearning experience more interesting. After all, new minds included new perspectives, and Hermione was always looking for different perspectives.

The most interesting bit of information she discovered revealed itself on the second day they were there. She had asked if they had been sorted yet at breakfast, and was happy to hear that Sam, the most sarcastic one of the group (which was saying something), was placed in Gryffindor. Tucker, the most technologically inclined person she had ever met, had been sorted into Ravenclaw. Hermione was curious; her first impression of the African-American boy was one of great uncertainty—she had thought him rather lazy. But after a few days of teaching them, she discovered that he was brilliant at his theory…when you sat him down and made him revise.

Danny had been a bit of a conundrum. Hermione had guessed Hufflepuff, or maybe Gryffindor, when she asked him where he had been placed. The raven-haired boy shook his head with a polite smile and said, as if he had been talking about the weather, that he had been sorted into Slytherin.

Hermione had never thought that the Sorting Hat would be wrong, but in this case she was baffled by its choice. First of all, Danny, for all intensive purposes, was a muggle-born. What little she knew of Slytherin compounded the fact that most of the students in the house of snakes were of pureblood wizarding families. She had never heard of a half-blood in Slytherin, let alone a muggle-born. But then, she thought, if she truly believed that a pureblood made a Slytherin that would make her no better then those she accused.

Danny simply seemed far too kind, too loyal, too brash to be Slytherin, but Hermione was aware that she didn't know him well enough to judge him on face value; there was far more to Danny then she could see, that much she gathered. She made sure to be a little more cautious around him, if only for the fact that he would be in a position to tell of her habits to other, less … favorable people. In the end, her views on Slytherin had to be readjusted to fit Danny's profile. Maybe, she thought hopefully, Maybe there are more like him in Slytherin than we suspect….

"Swish and flick, Tucker," Hermione insisted. "And don't forget to accent the ' gar ' and ' o ' in Wingardium Leviosa ."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Yes mom," he said tiredly as he prodded the quill he was trying to levitate once more.

Hermione eyed Sam, who was currently trying to turn a goblet into a bird. "And make sure you have the picture of your animal perfectly in mind – muscles and bones and all. It'll turn into something quite different if you imagine the bird as a goblet and not the other way around."

Sam nodded seriously. "You have any more books on the transfiguration of larger animals and people?" she asked, setting down her wand for the moment. "There's something I want to check out."

Hermione smiled happily, eager to share the knowledge, and pleased to have someone else just as interested in books as she was. "Of course! I'll have to dig it out. I'll be just a moment," she called as she left the room to go find the book.

Danny looked up from sorting out a few potion ingredients. "Hermione?" he asked, catching her before she left.

"Yes?" she responded.

"Uh, I was wondering," Danny walked beside her as they left the room. "You have any information about ghosts?" he blurted out.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "Why do you ask?"

"I haven't exactly told you what my parents do, have I?" he asked, the slight wince not escaping Hermione.

She shook her head. Danny's expression was pained, but he managed an amused smile.

"I guess I should tell you, I mean," he stuttered a bit and then shook his head. "You would have found out eventually," he added coming to a stop at the edge of the stairs.

Hermione gave him a blank look. "Yes?" she encouraged when he went silent.

"Myparentsareghosthunters," he said, not looking at her in the eye.

She stared at him and tilted her head. "Sorry?" she said slowly. "I didn't quite…"

He took a deep breath. "My parents are ghost hunters," he said, this time annunciating clearly.

Hermione blinked slowly. "Why?" she asked in confusion, and then blushed. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean – "

Danny smiled weakly. "Well, it is a legitimate question," he admitted. "No worries," he waved off her frantic apologies. "Anyway, that's why I ask about the ghost stuff – I thought it might help them with their research."

Hermione was still puzzled over the fact that anyone would actually hunt ghosts in the first place, but she wisely kept that opinion to herself.

"I personally don't have anything that could help, but Hogwarts has an extensive library and I'm sure you could find what you're looking for there."

Danny looked over his shoulder and then back to her. He nodded in response to her answer and then grinned. "I take it you really like Hogwarts then?"

Hermione looked proud. "It's my second home. I can't really explain it."

"You don't really have to." Danny twiddled with his wand and blushed lightly.

Before Hermione could respond, there was a great explosion from where Tucker and Sam were practicing.

"Help!" Tucker's panicked tones carried into the hallway where the two of them were standing. "The rug's on fire!"

"Are you a wizard or aren't you?" Sam's exasperated voice quickly followed, also slightly frantic. "Put it out! Or didn't you learn the water spells?"

There was a moment's pause before Tucker and Sam screamed: "…HERMIONE!"

"I think I better go help them." Hermione said, her lip twitching despite the urgency; Sam's comment about being a wizard or not reminded her of her own First Year.

Danny's face was trying to decide whether or not to break out into a laughing grin, or an expression of horror. "Yeah," he said quickly, eyeing the smoke that was starting to billow out of the room nervously.

Hermione bit down a smile and ran to help her friends.

It was a minor fire, really, compared to others Hermione had seen before (most came from poor Neville, unfortunately; Potions was really not his best class). She enforced more water-related spells, as well as the precise incantation to put out a fire. Sam and Tucker both got to work on those, bickering the whole time. Hermione was strongly reminded of herself and Ron; though she admitted, blushing, that she bickered with him on purpose.

Danny had made himself scarce, though Hermione swore he must have made himself invisible. She had looked up and down for him, relentlessly searching the house and even the yard outside.

It was odd – he tended to do this often, with little effort on his part. Hermione swore she would find out how he did it, if not just for the sake of finding him easier.

She was walking down the hall when she blinked.

Danny was standing on the steps leading up to her bedroom, and their respective rooms (Sam had bunked with her and the guest room had been selected by Danny and Tucker as their sanctuary). The only reason this struck Hermione as odd was the fact that he hadn't been there a millisecond ago. It was like he had suddenly appeared there…but she knew Danny didn't know Apparition—and even if he did, he wasn't allowed! She shook her head and eyed him curiously as the boy headed up the stairs, following him. She assured herself that she was merely going to get her book, not shadowing a friend.

"Hey Draco," she heard him say after he entered his room.

Hermione started in surprise. She put an ear to his door.

"And who's this? A friend?" he continued after a long rustling silence.

By this point, Hermione looked completely confused. She knocked rapidly on the door. "Danny? Are you there?" she asked.

"Yeah, hang on a sec," he responded. There were muffled footsteps heard until the door swung open.

Hermione had insisted that they try to wear robes for most of their work, just so they could get used to wearing them. Danny had changed out of them already, but was most certainly not in his regular clothes.

"…Danny, are those your dress robes?" Hermione asked faintly.

Danny merely blinked at her and then blushed. "Oh. Uh yeah, I hadn't really tried them on before so I thought that maybe I could—," he cut himself off and took a breath. "Madame Malkin wouldn't let me leave without buying this stupid thing," he grumbled, obviously embarrassed.

It was a strange sight, to see the normally humble looking Danny in garb so…formal and regal. The outfit was spectacular, and Hermione predicted that someone had paid quite a lot for such a set of robes. There were silver inlaid on the cuffs, twirling so that the curves looked like tiny dragons. The pants were long and baggy, but they fell elegantly to touch the floor; a flame-like design flowing up from the hem. It had a high collar, and the entire outfit looked like something out of an old pureblood collection – or perhaps a commission.

After an embarrassing silence where Danny avoided her disbelieving gaze, Hermione took a look around and confirmed that there were no hidden Malfoys in the room. "Who were you talking to?" she asked in confusion. She thought to add the mysterious appearance on the stairs to the List of Questions She Would Ask Later.

"Oh," he answered, the blush deepening. "Just my owl…and another random one that just showed up out of the blue," he gestured to the window.

"You're owl's name is Draco…?" Hermione's eyes followed his outstretched finger and saw a dark owl, and another, who was carrying a small parchment inked with elegant green lines.

"Oh!" she cried before Danny could answer her, running to the windowsill and taking the small message in the small owl's beak with gentle hands. She handed a small treat to the brown white barn owl, who hooted happily as Draco the owl nudged it in a pseudo-friendly manner – the dark owl was aiming for the treat.

"What is it?" Danny asked in a slightly bewildered voice. Hermione suddenly remembered that Danny had never seen Owl Post before.

"It's a letter from Hogwarts…I think," she said after a moment, looking at the sender's name. "No, it's from Dumbledore!" she exclaimed in surprise. "What on earth could he want?" she added, flipping open the letter with practiced ease.

Danny puzzled over the name. "Dumbledore…that's Remus' boss, right?" he asked out loud to himself.

Hermione responded with a strange look. "In a sense; Remus used to be a professor."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Danny muttered. "It's why you called him 'professor' when we first got here."

She didn't respond, reading the elegant text on the page with fervent eyes. Looking over to see Danny's confused expression, she took a deep breath.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned.

"I have to go – go help my Headmaster with an important issue," Hermione said, most certainly not really lying; she didn't have the heart to do it to Danny for some reason. "It will probably take the rest of summer Holidays," she said, a part of her heart plummeting.

Danny nodded; he kept his suspicions, if he had any, to himself. There was a lot she wasn't telling him, he could tell just by looking at her eyes. He hoped he might find out a bit more about what was going on when he met this Dumbledore person once more…as Phantom.

Hermione sighed again and rolled up the letter in her hand, crinkling it slightly. "I better go tell mum and dad," she murmured and, with one last puzzlingly sad look at her new friend, she strode out of the room, leaving Danny to ponder.

"So I'll be with Ron and his family," she was explaining to her mother and father. "And Harry will be with us as well after he finishes with his dealings in the Ministry."

Mary Granger exchanged a worried look with her husband, John. "This is serious, isn't it?" she asked her daughter.

Hermione gave a tiny nod. "I am worried," she admitted. "A real trial…over self-defense of all things!" she exclaimed, her worry turning into anger. "Of all the stupid incidents to try and pin him for, they go for the least plausible case! It makes me wonder if someone outside the ministry is meddling…." Her worry was showing on her face once more.

"Harry attracts this sort of attention all the time, though," John said in an even tone. "Do you think he'll be able to handle it?"

Hermione looked at her father and tried her best not to cry. "I don't know daddy." Her voice was going wobbly and the floor was starting to look fuzzy. "I don't know."

The week after Hermione left passed in a dark and solemn mood.

Danny had no idea why, but even he felt strangely apprehensive. He didn't like being in a position of ignorance, and neither did Sam or Tucker. And he was getting tired of it.

Hermione's parents were very kind, and they helped the three Americans study as much as they could with the knowledge their daughter had given them. Remus also stopped by more often now, as Hermione had been called away.

Sam had drawn Tucker and himself into a huddle one evening, however, and expressed her irritation at the lack of knowledge they had at the moment.

"It's getting ridiculous," she said frowning, her wand glowing in the darkness of the basement where they had hidden. "Her parent's are worried, and that worry is spreading around us like a disease. We know Hermione's involved in Headmaster Dumbledore's plans, but we, as we are now, are in no position to ask. I want to know what's going on, and Danny," she paused here. "You're in the best position to figure it out."

Danny had seen this coming. "I was a bit fuzzy about whether or not I'd be here…maybe I should actually get around to meeting Remus and Dumbledore – officially this time."

"How do we explain Danny's absence?" Sam muttered to herself. "It's not like we can tell the Granger's he just decided to go for a stroll."

The three of them pondered for a moment. "Well, you could always say you're sick – we could stand watch and everything." Tucker quickly rummaged in his bag and took out a certain modified iPod. "Remember this?" he said impishly.

Danny almost laughed, but smothered it in his need to be secretive. "Perfect. Just make sure they don't search the room either." His eyes lit up. "Sam?" he wheedled. "Make me soup?"

Sam glared at him for a long minute, and Danny wondered if he had pushed his luck. Then she smiled. "Of course, even if it's only to keep Mrs. Granger from coming upstairs."

Danny and Tucker cringed; her smile was one of pure evil.

"Remember to tell us everything," Tucker reminded him as he and Sam headed back upstairs, preparing the story for Danny's disappearance.

Danny shook his head and for the first time in a long while, went ghost, turned invisible, and flew upwards through the house.

Remus had come over for a quick review of their Defense against the Dark Arts, as well as Charms and Transfiguration. So, really, it wasn't exactly supposed to be a quick review.

But they had finished much earlier than anticipated, and Remus had stayed for some tea and sympathy, chatting with the Grangers. He had been subtly interrogated about how Hermione was faring, and also, surprisingly, if Harry was alright. Remus was pleased to hear that they cared, and was wholly willing to tell them that both were alive and well.

Remus was also surprised to hear them talk about the three new students. He, himself, had been pleased to note that all of them were rather intelligent and easy to teach – excusing the bad study habits that seemed crop up around Danny at time. Sam was already pretty adapt at magic, her skills quickly progressing from amateur to intermediate in rapid time. Tucker followed quickly behind in his abilities. Danny was still struggling with some of the more simple aspects of subjects; he was decidedly an enigma, trading from being excellent with one spell and horrible with another – even if the two were related. Remus had yet to understand how his magic fluctuated in such a polarizing manner. It was something they had to work on, for certain.

He excused himself to go wash the dishes – he had insisted. It was when he was in the kitchen, alone, that a shiver ran down his spine.

" Psst! "

Remus stilled. He could have sworn someone had whispered.

"Remus?" the voice came again. Remus turned his head around in surprise, and saw a familiar face floating above the floor.

"Danny Phantom?" he said bewildered. "You actually came?"

The ghost grinned. "I said I'd see you again, didn't I?"

Remus nervous anticipation collapsed into sweet relief. "I…I wasn't sure."

The apparition nodded and landed silently on the linoleum floor. "Sorry to startle you. I wanted to talk about what you wanted me to do…I'm sort of in the dark. Did I mention it took forever to find you?" He looked vaguely sheepish at his own tone. "I mean, I wasn't sure on how to contact you, so…."

"It's nothing – I am relieved to find you here. I take it you would like to know what I was talking about when we first met." Remus set his cup and small plate in the sink.

"Yeah, actually. If I'm going to be helping you like I think I'm going to help you, then you need to tell me everything."

Remus looked into the glowing green eyes of the young-looking ghost and sighed. "Even I don't know everything. I think it's best if you met Dumbledore."

"The guy who found me?"

"Precisely," Remus said. "He is essentially the one in charge." He frowned suddenly. "You can come to me for the more puzzling bits, in case Dumbledore sounds like he is evading something. Also, the Dark Lord has just recently returned, and there have been…conflicting viewpoints between Albus Dumbledore and our Minister, Cornelius Fudge." Remus winced inwardly at this. "The reason this amount of secrecy is necessary is to keep the ministry from interfering and preventing sufficient defenses and potential offense to be made." There was a moment of silence where he let Phantom understand the information.

Phantom stared at him. "So…has anyone actually have any proof that this Lord Voldemort is back?" he asked, confused.

"The only proof we have is the word of one boy," Remus said tiredly. "And I believe him – if anyone would know if the Dark Lord had returned, he would."

"That's…Harry Potter, right?" Danny asked uncertainly – he had heard Hermione mention him before with great familiarity. Did she know him personally?

Remus looked at him and refrained from blinking in surprise. "Yes. He was the one who, in essence, defeated the Dark Lord about 15 years ago. Threw off the Killing Curse…and he was only a baby." Remus stopped. The memories were starting to flood back and he didn't feel comfortable explaining more. "In any case, it's early in the afternoon. I think we'll be able to meet Dumbledore before he goes out anywhere."

Danny Phantom nodded again. "Alright, I guess. I just don't want to be lied to about anything – that wouldn't be cool…or helpful."

Colloquialism aside, Remus conceded his point; there was no reason to lie. "Just let me clean up here, and we will leave immediately –," he stopped abruptly. "Oh dear."

"What is it?" Danny asked. The worried look on Remus' face made him nervous.

The man looked to him in dismay. "I'm not sure if you we can transport you there." A few dishes clattered and chinked together in the sink as he washed them, a focused look on his face. "I know of know transportation device or maneuver that works with incorporeal beings such as spirits or ghosts."

"Can't you use – I mean I'm not incorporeal; I can hold onto things as easily as the next living person…unless you have to be alive when you use, er, whatever you use."

Remus started and then gave a short laugh. "I honestly forgot – I'm still not sure what would happen though, you understand. I don't think anyone has ever had a solid spiritual mass to experiment with."

Phantom shrugged and grinned slightly. "I'll take my chances."

Danny circled the house outside, invisible, waiting for Remus to make his appearance. Remus had insisted on keeping him a secret from the Granger's, at least, for the time being. They never knew who was watching or listening, for that matter.

After a few minutes, he watched Remus exit the house, waving good day to Hermione's mom and dad. Danny trailed him for a few minutes until Remus made a small gesture and turned into a nearby alleyway.

Turning visible, he followed him. "So…how are we doing this?" he asked, touching down on the asphalt.

Remus took a mitten out of his pocket. "This is a portkey – it will take us directly to where we should be. If it doesn't work, and you are left here, don't move," he instructed. "I will apparate back, and we will find alternate transportation."

Danny nodded in acknowledgment. "Right."

Remus eyed a small device that was almost a watch on his left wrist. "Alright, on the count of three, touch the mitten."

Inwardly, Danny was trying not to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. A mitten, of all things?

"Three, two, one!"

It was the oddest feeling, being yanked backward suddenly. Danny held back his first, immediate reaction, which was to turn around and blast the offending force. Instead, he concentrated on not throwing up.

In what felt like a split second of extreme vertigo, the two of them landed; Remus was mildly brushing himself off, and Danny landed butt-first on the stone riddled steps of Hogwarts. He hadn't ever seen the place from the outside, and after Danny was done not falling over, he gave the place an impressed glance. Sam was really going to love this place.

As they went inside, the large gates opening with an ancient groan, Danny quickly smothered the three or four ghost senses that went off at almost the same time. Remus stared at him as he hiccupped.

"Um, sorry," he said, getting a deep breath. "It's just something that happens when I get near a ghost." Or like, 500 of them at once, apparently. "Don't worry about it—"

"Well hello there!"

Danny looked around for the voice until Remus spoke. "Hello Sir Nicholas."

A grey-ish colored semi-transparent ghost floated in the middle of the wall. Danny only knew one ghost that was lacking in color, and Pointdexter wasn't nearly as old as this 'Sir Nicholas' spirit.

"It's been a while since we've seen you," the apparition said kindly.

Remus chuckled. "I have been out of school for quite some time. But it is nice to see you once again."

"I thought something powerful and possibly bad was nearby, but if that was true, we wouldn't be speaking like this, I suppose," the ghost said to Remus, frowning in thought. Then his eyes found Danny.

It took a moment, but a second later, Sir Nicholas did the biggest double-take. "My word," he breathed, still staring at Danny, who was beginning to squirm. "It's you."

Remus looked extremely interested. "You two know each other?" he prompted with not a little eagerness.

"Not personally no," Sir Nicholas said before Danny could speak. "But I certainly have heard of him."

"Sorry," Danny said quickly. "But I'm not sure we've ever, er, that is…um." He stopped and blushed terribly. "I'm not sure I've ever heard of you," he pulled together at last.

The other ghost practically guffawed. "Oh no! I'm not nearly as famous as you, dear boy. The only half—,"

"Really?" Danny interrupted frantically, his voice trying to be as casual as possible. "I didn't know I was known here in England."

Sir Nicholas didn't look particularly upset at being cut off. "Oh yes. All over the ethereal plane, I believe. You're quite well-known." He gave a slight bow to the both of them and smiled widely. "I must tell the others. Are you going to be staying long?"

Danny looked to Remus who put a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be with us for quite some time, I believe," the man answered for him, hiding a smile.

"Oh marvelous! I will take my leave now. Be seeing you, Danny Phantom," he said graciously, and slipped through the nearest wall, disappearing.

"Not that famous, indeed." Remus grinned at him and continued his walk. Danny groaned inaudibly and levitated, floating behind him.

He was going to have to tell all the ghosts in this castle to keep their respective mouths shut about his 'condition'. Danny wasn't looking forward to it, especially if any of them were like the ghosts back home.

Danny reacted surprised and amazed, even though he had already been in Headmaster Dumbledore's office before. "Nice," he said aloud.

"Thank you," came a familiar old voice. "I happen to think it needs more blue, myself."

Albus Dumbledore, decked out in a bright royal blue and golden star ensemble, was smiling in his direction. "I don't believe we have had the pleasure of a formal meeting," he continued. "I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Danny blinked.

Dumbledore grinned. "You may call me Albus."

Danny refrained from breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm Danny Phantom, ghostly ghost hunter extraordinaire," he said dryly. "Remus tells me that you're the one who's going to tell me what it is you want me to do."

"Correct," Albus said, nodding. "Please sit. I'm afraid that this explanation will be a rather long one."

He was right about that. Danny had to stand up a few times to make sure his arms and legs were still working; to Remus' curious look, he merely said that he often paced to think things over.

Dumbledore told him quite a lot, which was probably the biggest understatement of the year. Starting with the rise of Lord Voldemort, otherwise known as Tom Riddle, he described the war that rose with him; all of history was important enough to be described in great detail. He told him of the Death Eaters, and of their mission to eliminate muggles and muggleborns. Danny gulped internally: that meant him and his friends, as well as his family.

Suddenly, it got personal.

There were a few trips taken into a large stone bowl that was filled with a mercurial silvery substance. He didn't know how it worked, but Albus explained that the liquid-air bits in the bowl were memories made physical, and the bowl itself was called a Pensieve. In it he watched different trials, condemning different criminals. He saw a few that related to Voldemort directly, and some that were suspicious enough to possibly be related at all. He told the story of the Boy Who Lived, a Harry Potter, and how he stopped Voldemort, practically killing him by rebounding the Killing Curse

Then, Albus spoke of The Order of the Phoenix.

"We are a secret group dedicated to stopping Tom at all costs," he explained. "And, simply put, I would like to make you a member."

Danny's ears had been ringing with all the information, and until now, he had been mostly on auto-pilot. When he registered this new bit, he started in surprise. "Me?" he half-squeaked. Embarrassed, he coughed. "Um, I'm not sure why…."

"Because you seem to be oddly powerful and on the side of Light," Albus said seriously. "And in these desperate times, I find that rare enough to commend you for it." His mouth crinkled into a small smile. "Plus, I believe we need all the help we can acquire," the old man said simply.

Danny was completely blown away. After all he had learned about the war previously fought to stop Voldemort, it was rare to involve anyone under the age of 20. Of course, they didn't know how old he really was, so accepting him, as a ghost, was no big deal. "Well, I don't think I could say no, even if I tried," he said after a pregnant pause.

Dumbledore smiled gratefully. "I would be the first to give you our thanks, and deep appreciation," he said truthfully. "There will be much we can learn from each other, of that I am sure."

"I'm not sure how much use I'll be though – I'm not that, er, experienced with war , really." Danny was questioning their motives than his own. That and he was nervous; sure he'd fought one on one before, but not a battle or any thing remotely like what he'd been shown. Nor had he really fought a human who could fight back (excluding Valerie, Vlad, and his parents…sort of) – well, nobody who was capable of truly killing someone in cold blood. As annoying and bad Vlad may be, Danny didn't really think the older halfa could do murder.

Albus raised an amused eyebrow. "I didn't recall asking you to fight; I had understood that you were capable of invisibility and intangibility. Can you really engage in battle?" he asked in a wondering voice.

Danny grinned, feeling like this more his area. "Sure. Do you want me to prove it?"

After Danny was finished demonstrating his abilities, there was a charred patch of land about 300 feet in diameter. He had pretty much shown the two wizards his entire arsenal of offensive and defensive abilities. When he had asked them to throw curses at a shield he had made around himself, Remus had hesitated, but Dumbledore coerced him into trying a few stunning spells. They all were successfully deflected.

"That's why I thought you were asking me to fight," he concluded, feeling a little bad for the destruction.

Albus and Remus both stared at the amount of space Danny had cleared; Dumbledore looked on with extreme curiosity while Remus did his best to hide a dumb-founded expression.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said, an amused tone creeping into his words. "Well, if anything, you have demonstrated that you are fully capable of defending yourself, as well as others. I am very impressed." The old man walked across disintegrated grass particles and shook Danny's hand. "I believe we are lucky to have you on our side," he said warmly.

Danny shook back firmly, a smile on his face. "Glad to help, honestly," he said in return. It was a strange feeling – Albus was treating him more like an adult, rather than the …younger person he really was. Maybe he thought that power was equivalent with age. Danny snorted inwardly.

"We must discuss your origins at some point," Albus said with purely intellectual curiosity.

"Right," Danny said nervously. "Someday."

"Remus, I believe it is far too late to continue this conversation," Albus said, directing his attention to the other man. "Perhaps you should take Phantom to Grimmauld," he added, a twinkle in his eye before he handed the still shell-shocked Remus a small pocket watch. "Welcome to the Order," he said kindly to Danny. With a little head bob, Albus swept up and strode back towards Hogwarts.

A few moments of quiet reigned until Remus took a deep breath.

"Well then," he said, running a hand through his hair. "We should be heading off."

"Is that another one of those transporter things?" Danny asked suspiciously, pointing at the small watch.

Remus grinned shakily. "A Portkey? Yes, I'm afraid so." The older man shook his head. "I'm sorry, it's just – I've never seen that much spiritual power projected at once and in such a short time." 'By such a young-looking creature' seemed to be left hanging, unsaid, at the end of the sentence. Danny saw his discomfort and straightened.

"It's just what I do," he said simply. Then he groaned. "I'm not looking forward to the trip."

Remus laughed, his discomfort ebbing at the sight of Danny's pained expression. "Surely it's not that bad!"

Danny winced as Remus started counting down. Apparently, I'm just a wimp for twisty, upside down, upchuck-inducing tail spin, instantaneous travel. Lucky me.

Harry had been trying to sleep for the past hour or so. Unfortunately for him, Voldemort was easily excitable, which gave him splitting headaches.

It hadn't even been a week since he had been whisked off to Grimmauld Place, and he was still exhausted, vestiges of anger still lingering from his outburst when he had arrived seven days earlier.

He felt terrible about it, actually; both the trial and the Argument. Even though the fact that he had been kept in the dark still made him furious, he shouldn't have taken it out his own friends; friends that had stuck by him when no one else did. He related quite readily to Sirius, who had also been caged for most of the summer, and took it as a good sign that his Godfather related to him as well.

Harry shifted around in his blankets and then sat up, rubbing his forehead tiredly. It was a second later that he heard Molly Weasley's voice.

"…appropriate? To be dealing with a ghost of all creatures…."

Harry raised an eyebrow, extremely curious.

"He's perfectly safe Molly," Remus' familiar voice was muffled by the door. "Dumbledore wouldn't have approved of it if he wasn't."

"But should we be involving Harry again ?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a firm tone. "He shouldn't have to be so mixed up in all this," she whispered, and Harry had to press his ear to the door in order to hear her.

"Yes," Remus responded in a weary tone. "He deserves to know the war we are involving ourselves in, if not simply because the Dark Lord tried to kill him, then because he has seen one of his comrades die."

Harry leaned away from his door in shock.

"That sort of thing gives people a more mature outlook on life." He heard Remus pause for a moment before continuing. "I could continue to list the poor boy's exploits, but I think you know them all already," Remus added with a smile in his voice.

Said boy responded to the comments with a hidden, somber smile…which soon disappeared when he realized that the voices and footsteps were heading in his direction.

Quickly, he scrambled back into bed and pretended to be asleep, ignoring Ron's snores.

The door creaked open, and Harry sat up, acting like he had been sleeping the entire time.

"Sorry to bother you so late Harry," Remus said quietly, casting a Silencio over the room to prevent Ron from waking. "But it's urgent that you come downstairs." He smiled. "There's a new member of the Order we'd like you to meet."

Danny floated, invisible, waiting for Remus to come back downstairs and announce him. It wasn't that he wanted to make a big entrance or anything, but he felt awkward if it was just him and whole bunch of people he didn't know.

"A ghost?" a black-haired man growled, entering into the room where Danny floated. Danny was startled enough to fall a foot out of the air, but thankfully, not turn visible. "Dumbledore's teaming up with a ghost of all things?" he asked again, louder this time – to the point of yelling.

"Sirius, please, don't shout," pleaded the next voice, which turned out to be a young woman with shockingly pink hair. "You'll wake everyone up."

"I'm right here, Tonks!" he yelled again, crossing his arms. "He could let me help," he muttered, now more sullen than furious.

"You know you can't," 'Tonks' said stubbornly. "Like it or not, Dumbledore's right in keeping you here…we can't have you getting arrested or anything else."

The bedraggled looking man sighed in a rush of air that sounded tired and angry at the same time. "You think I don't know that Tonks?"

The woman put a hand on 'Sirius's' head and shuffled his lank hair playfully. "I never said you didn't. And this whole ghost business is rather exciting, I think. Aren't you even interested?"

"I am interested," Sirius muttered mutinously. "But it's not fair," he said the last words in a drawled out whine, which made Danny hide a snort of laughter.

"Padfoot? Was that you howling around down here?" Danny heard Remus' voice and saw him come down the stairs, followed closely by a young boy about his own age and the red-haired woman from earlier.

"Moony you do the howling, remember?" the man named Sirius asked, a mischievous smile on his face. "Good morning Harry!" he called to what Danny assumed was the boy with Remus.

'Harry' grinned tiredly. "This is hardly morning," he said in a voice that told the others he was trying desperately not to yawn. "Now who's this new Order member?" he asked, obviously wanting to get to the point.

Remus smiled and nodded. "Molly, Tonks, Harry, Sirius? I'm pleased to introduce our new member…" he looked around, unsure for a moment before gesturing slightly.

Danny took this as his cue and quickly appeared, landing directly in front of Remus.

A few startled, cut-off exclamations later and Danny coughed. "Uh, hi. I'm Danny Phantom…but I'd prefer if you just called me Phantom."

He looked at everyone's faces and saw incredulity, amazement, and curiosity. As well as a heaping pile of mistrust.

"Are you really a ghost?" asked the red-haired woman, the one Remus had gestured to as 'Molly.' She sounded horribly sad, and Danny wasn't sure why until she uttered, "But you're so young …."

Danny gulped and nodded, unsure; he felt strangely guilty letting her believe he was really dead.

Harry stared at him the longest – it wasn't exactly a warm, friendly gaze. Danny hadn't been sure before, but according to Remus' and Dumbledore's descriptions, this Harry must be that Harry Potter.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you," Tonks said loudly, breaking the awkward silence that had developed with a blinding grin. "You've gotta be powerful if you're corporeal and all."

Danny fought the flush that was crawling across his face. "Eh, well I don't think so. I mean," he paused. "Power's not all it's cracked up to be," he said, his voice tinged with remorse.

"How old, er," Harry blurted out suddenly and looked awkward. "Uh, sorry," he said quickly, "Not to be rude, but how old were you when, um," he stopped and looked ashamed.

Danny blinked. Then he started to laugh a little, startling the small group. "I was fourteen," he admitted smiling. "Don't worry! Dying is the last thing I have to worry about…and once you're dead, your death isn't that big of a deal."

"Unless you celebrate your deathday," Sirius finally spoke up, an interested expression on his face, his eyes going to Harry, who returned the look with a hidden smile.

Danny raised an eyebrow. "Deathday?" he asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a long story," he said simply, seeming to put his suspicions aside for the memory.

"So," Remus interjected, getting back on topic. "Phantom here will be at Hogwarts, sifting through the students to find anything of interest. He'll probably be going on some of the more stealthy, or life-threatening missions," at this Remus smiled apologetically. "After all, it's not truly life-threatening when you're already dead."

The others frowned at this, a statement they thought might anger the ghost. But Danny grinned. "True, that," he said simply. "I heard about this supposed Mouldevort person, and he sounds like a jerk." There were snorts about the room, but nobody shivered at the name. Nor did they bother to correct him.

"Understatement," Harry added soullessly. Danny felt bad for saying something that probably (make that obviously) hit close to home. He tried a small amused smirk Harry shrugged, eyes pained, but a smile lit his face nonetheless.

"Remus said you were powerful. What did he mean by that?" Sirius asked plainly. Tonks pouted, as if she wanted to be the one to ask the question.

Danny shrunk a little. "Well, I suppose I can do something to show you," he said slowly.

Remus quickly sent everyone a Look, as if warning them to stand back.

Danny grinned slightly. "I'm not gonna do anything drastic here," he assured Remus, who relaxed. "Is there something you don't want anymore?" Danny threw over his shoulder as he stood up straight with his back towards them.

Sirius, who had been staring at him with suspicious interest the entire time, snapped his gaze upward…and just grinned .

" Filthy blood traitors! Scum! Mudblood lovers! "

Danny looked at the painting in shock as the old woman in the picture screamed at the top of her lungs. His ears were ringing and he turned to look at Sirius. "No wonder you want this thing destroyed!" he practically yelled over the tumultuous screeching.

Harry had a bored look on his face that made Danny want to snicker. Sirius, nodded, holding his hands over his ears. "She's something else, huh?" he called back.

"You said it!" Danny said as loudly as he could over the cacophonous noise. He raised a hand and glared at the woman, and she finally trained her gaze on him.

If possible, she screamed even louder, eye widening with madness, and a hint of what looked like recognition. " Scum! Traitorous FILTH! Get out of my house, you waste of flesh and blood! " Danny frowned, the words finally reaching his ears.

"Oh shut up," he grumbled to himself. There was a small flicker of white in his glowing eyes when his hand shone a bright sickly green and shot out a beam of ectoplasmic energy.

The woman in the painting screamed in shock as the green fire-like energy burned through her canvas and ate away the oil paint. In seconds, she was gone, only the back of the painting and frame remaining.

There was a deafening silence before Danny wiped his hands and turned to look at the four shocked faces. "That do anything for you?" he asked, satisfied that it was at least quiet now.

A whoop of happiness resounded from Sirius and the tall man hit him on the back, only blinking once in surprise when his hand didn't go straight through. "Finally! Rid of that useless piece of rubbish!" he exclaimed happily, throwing Danny off; it was strange to have someone be wary of you and then suddenly switch to generous gratitude in a matter of seconds.

Harry glanced at Danny with a small grin, and Danny sighed an internal breath of relief.

"Now all we have to do is go to bed ," Molly stressed. Danny started, even as Sirius was still hitting him on the back. She had been quiet ever since their first meeting, and he had been worried that he had disturbed her.

"Not me," he said happily, "But you all should."

Harry snorted at his words. "No worries, mum ," he said snarkily. Danny held back laughter and instead smiled in a smug manner.

"Hey! I may look young, but I could be older than all of you put together," he said in a spooky voice. He grinned at their perturbed expressions. "It's good to be working with people who have a sense of humor…well, some of you." Nodding to Remus, who nodded back with a warm smile, Danny lifted off the ground and waved. "Be seeing you!" he caroled before going invisible and shooting through the ceiling. He snickered openly at the shocked looks they had on when they saw him levitate.

It was a strange welcoming ceremony, he thought. Most of them, excusing Remus and Molly Weasley seemed not to trust him. He was used to this, thankfully, and so he had decided to take it stride, rather than confronting them about it. It was uncannily sneaky of him to use humor in place of possible suspicion; they all reacted well to his mauling of the name Voldemort. And he had done something right when he destroyed that nasty painting.

He let go of a breath he hadn't known he was holding. It helped that this Harry Potter guy knew how to take a joke, bad as it may be, with his temper and situation against him.

If anything, Danny knew a thing or two about keeping a cool head…or rather, not keeping a cool head at times.

After all, I have Vlad to keep me on my toes. He pisses me off like no one else…except maybe my 'self'.

Danny knew Remus was heading to the Granger's house to go over some new information for Hermione's parents, so he sped up. Getting back before Remus was imperative— imperative ? Yikes…he was really spending too much time around Remus… and Hermione.

He spilled everything he knew to Sam and Tucker as soon as he got back. All the information from Dumbledore made everything fit into place and when he finished, the three of them sat back, suddenly exhausted.

"What have we gotten ourselves into?" Sam asked quietly, breaking the silence.

"One thing's for sure, Danny," Tucker said seriously. "We're all gonna have to watch each other's backs for real." His almost-turquoise eyes shimmered in the dim lamplight. "People have died because of this guy…and he's no ghost."

"Even though he deserves death more than anything," Danny said tiredly. "I know. I almost had second thoughts about this whole thing."

"But we can't just leave," Sam said sadly. "This is like a responsibility; once you hear what's going on you can't just not help."

"Plus, we really do have magical talent," Tucker added. "It would be good to train ourselves – if nothing more than to help you out once in a while," he said sheepishly to Danny, who grinned back.

"Yeah, that would be helpful."

Sam punched him on the shoulder. "Thanks a lot," she said huffily. "That's all we get for saving your butt? Multiple times?"

The three of them laughed, easing the tension away.

"I guess that means Danny Phantom will be in England for a while," Danny muttered as he heard the front door open and Remus' familiar voice float upstairs. "Let's go see Remus," he suggested, changing the subject.

Tucker and Sam looked at each other and nodded at him, standing, and understanding. Together they walked out and down the stairs

"…and so Hermione will be staying at the safe house for the rest of the summer, if not for Harry's sake. We thought he might need all the friends he could get at this point." Remus was actually pointing out his own opinion, but it was probably the right response to the worried pair in front of him.

Mr. Granger snorted. "Sounds like your ministry officials are almost as bollocksed as ours."

"Oh I don't think it's so bad here," an amused young voice echoed from the stairs.

Remus' gaze was pulled upward and his lips twitched. Saman— Sam was jogging down the steps, followed quickly by Danny and Tucker.

"Danny!" exclaimed Mrs. Granger. "You look much better!"

The boy stopped on the stairs suddenly and reminded Remus of a deer in headlights. He stammered for a moment before smiling weakly. "Aheh, yeah," he said finally, nervous cracking evident in his voice. "Must have been one of those 24 hour bugs."

Mr. Granger, as well as Remus lifted an eyebrow simultaneously, but said nothing in response. Mrs. Granger, however, checked his forehead the minute he hit the credenza.

"Nice to see you three," Remus said in greeting. "Actually, it's good you came down," he said, remembering his private conversation with Dumbledore from the day before. "I have something to tell you."

Sam and Tucker both glanced at Danny for a split second before all three grinned eagerly. "Good news, right?" Tucker asked innocently.

Remus shrugged, and smothered a grin. "It's both good and bad. As you may or may not have guessed, we had planned for some sort of test to officially declare you fifth year students. The Headmistress McGonagall, Dumbledore, with a bit of input from me, decided that this cumulative test would be held two days before the Hogwarts Express leaves for school. That would give you about a week and one month to finish up the third and fourth year curriculum."

All of the people in the room sans Remus himself winced – the three young teens froze in what looked like ill-concealed terror. Mr. Granger smiled weakly.

"You won't be obsessive, like Hermione, will you? She sometimes scares me when she's studying for a big test," he said, though the last part was almost inaudible.

"And you will eat and sleep. Hermione is our daughter," Mrs. Granger said sternly, "so obviously, we have absolutely no control over her actions." She cracked a grin at the smothered snickers – nervous ones from the children. "But you are under our custody, so we will take it upon ourselves to make sure you don't wear yourselves silly." Her expression was stern, but her voice was full of honest concern.

Remus nodded. "And I, of course, will be here most of the time to help. You will excuse the occasional absence, I hope – I am rather busy." He paused for thought. "Also, we will have the teaching staff prepared to give you both written and practical exams, so that everything will be as official as we can manage at the last minute."

The three students stood still, struck dumb by this new hurdle as the three adults proceeded to smother grins of knowing.

"Great," Tucker groaned, summing up everyone's thoughts. "We're all going to die."

Chapter Text

The loud tick-tock noises of clocks echoed around the empty tower, as if in attempt to make sure the owner knew how quickly and urgently time passed.

A few metal noises were heard – a strange clanging that was almost as constant as the clocks – but other than that, nothing else seemed to fill the silence. It was eerie, to say the least.

And Chronos, also known to many as Clockwork, hated it.

"If you let me go, you'd never have to worry about this stupid responsibility ever again," the voice said, insidious.

"Quiet," Clockwork muttered wearily. "I'm busy."

And he was. He had a Timestream to maintain, and that alone made his days long and tired. And sometimes very depressing.

"I could take it from you," the voice spoke again, this time sounding light-hearted and completely well-meaning. "I could take it and use it and let it be my responsibility. You could finally live, free from these shackles of power you bear."

"I said," Clockwork spoke with a voice that had a sharper edge to it, "Be quiet."

There was silence for a while. Then the voice came again, this time empty and cold. "It would be less of a mad world without you meddling. Like you did for Pariah. Like you did for me and my younger counterpart. He didn't deserve to live. I did. And now you've ruined everything ." The voice never yelled. But the impact of his words was as if he was shouting at the top of his lungs.

"You are insane," Clockwork explained blandly. The amount of power within Phantom was great, but he had been driven mad by it. "Besides, you can't kill yourself. It's impossible. I just thought I'd save you the embarrassment of being proven wrong."

The creature flung himself against the barriers of his prison, a loud clanging heard once more. "I don't have to kill him," he insisted after the attempt to escape failed. "I just have to make sure he's in no place to stop me."

Clockwork turned a weary stare in his direction. "Of course," he said as the power-hungry, evil version of a good friend started punching his prison from the inside, the pure crystal shackles on his hands scraping and making sparks.

It was then that something on the Mirror caught his attention. Floating over, he stared at the events that had previously unfolded in young Danny Fenton's life, pausing in some places to make sure he had seen every detail. Then he looked at a few of the things to come.

He frowned.

In his Mirror, Clockwork could see everyone and everything at any time. There was no secret that could be hidden from him. As well, he could see every splinter of time that came apart and reformed into new futures and possibilities. Looking at Danny's timeline, he saw hundreds of different lives being lived. In these fragments of a life altered, Clockwork saw a home with a family, a business with a profit, a singer with a band, an astronaut with a dream. But he also saw death, loneliness, and sometimes even insanity.

In this case, Clockwork saw magic. And he was glad.

It was human nature's greatest power to decide what they wanted from their life, and taking it with nothing more than simple determination. It was something Clockwork often envied, and was constantly amazed by. Danny had chosen a new path – as unexpected as it was – and Clockwork was sure that though hardship would rear its ugly head and complications would arise, Danny was only going to come out of this a better person.

And Clockwork would always be there for him. To monitor. To protect.

…And sometimes, to meddle.

"Muggles made this?"

It was dark outside, and Remus was reading the schematics to this 'Ghost Portal' with nothing but the candles provided.

"Yes," he replied to Arthur Weasley, who was looking excited and intrigued. "Jack mentioned that he had made a prototype when he was in college; but since one of his close friends got hurt because of it, he put off building a larger, better one for almost 13 years."

"This is amazing," Sirius admitted, looking rather humble. "To think that muggles can access such magic through technology is…"

"Mind-boggling?"

"More like history-making, actually," Arthur Weasley spoke up, interjecting himself into the conversation. He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were practically dancing with eagerness and curiosity. "We must speak to these people," he insisted, "Find out how they learned to break through to the barrier of the Nevernever."

Remus blinked. He hadn't heard the Outer Realms called that for quite a while. "The Fenton's get grants from obscure, but thoroughly rich supporters who are highly interested in what the pair can create. So far, they've created mostly anti-ghost weaponry – defensive and offensive – but this 'Ghost Portal' is by far the most interesting," Remus clarified with a smile. "I'm sure we could set up a correspondence with them, as their son will be attending Hogwarts this year."

"Really?" a familiar voice spoke up from behind them. "I didn't know Hogwarts took oversea students, let alone so late in their lives."

"Exceptions are everywhere," another added. "Especially in Hogwarts."

"Harry, Hermione," Remus greeted warmly. "We didn't mean to wake you."

Harry shook his head and smiled. "Me? Sleep? I don't think so."

"What is that you have there?" Hermione questioned, ever curious. She had arrived a little while ago, but she had been so wrapped up in everything that had happened, she had little time to think of her American friends. She had mentioned them in passing to Harry and Ron, but she had a feeling that they were both too absorbed in recent events to remember.

"A gift from Jack Fenton, Danny Fenton's father," Remus said, sitting up straighter. Sirius and Arthur were still studying the mechanics, with Arthur trying to explain exactly how the machine worked to a puzzled Sirius. "It's the schematics for their 'Ghost Portal'."

Harry frowned thoughtfully while Hermione's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?" she asked grinning widely. "May I take I look?"

The boy next to her blinked in surprise, "You know about it?"

Hermione smiled knowingly. "Danny Fenton is one of the American transfers staying at my home," she explained walking closer to the table. "Don't you remember me telling you about them?"

Harry winced sheepishly. "Uh, no, not really."

The bushy haired girl rolled her eyes. "Honestly Harry," she said shaking her head.

"I had a lot on my mind," he said, frowning defensively.

Hermione looked pained for a moment before smiling lightly. "We all did," she admitted, "But no matter!" she said clapping he hands and gesturing to the blue papers littering the desk. "Danny told me a lot about this thing, but he never got wholly technical about it."

Harry, a bit taken aback by her sudden switch in mood, grinned tiredly. "It's never enough information for you, is it?"

"I'm afraid," Remus interjected, "That Ms. Granger may never satisfy her curiosity."

The boy snickered at the affronted look on Hermione's face. "Well," she said, trying not to sputter. "Have you figured out how this 'portal' works?" she asked indignantly, changing the subject.

Remus sighed, amused. "I'm afraid it's still all unknown – we understand what goes where, but there is little to aid in us where the 'how' is concerned."

"Owling them would be more efficient," Arthur added loudly. Sirius just ran a hand through his hair.

"Arthur's right Moony," the ex-convict said in a bewildered voice. "Nothing on this parchment is in layman's terms – no one except Arthur has made any headway."

"I could help you know," Hermione said, her face emanating her impatience. "I know quite a lot about muggle technology."

Arthur nodded, acknowledging her. "True, but I'm afraid some of this goes beyond basic mechanics," he said to her. "I can tell," he added proudly.

"If Danny had a difficult time explaining it, I can understand why," Remus said, hiding a smile.

"Well, I know one thing," Arthur said, looking confused. "It says here that the 'on' switch is on the inside of the portal."

"What?" asked Hermione, who now looked highly confused. "That must be a mistake; whatever switch or button that turns on the power source must be on the outside."

"Then how on earth did they turn it on in the first place?" demanded Arthur looking equally perplexed. "Without being trapped in the magical energy field that would have immediately been activated, I mean."

"Maybe they wrote it wrong, and built it right," Harry suggested.

Remus nodded. "It is a possibility," he conceded. "Either way, I must remind myself to speak with Danny the next time we meet…which thankfully will be soon."

"Oh!" Hermione said, putting a hand to her mouth. "The Test!" she exclaimed. "I can't believe I forgot!"

Remus chuckled. "They are fine – I have been tutoring them in your absence."

Hermione sighed in relief, which made Remus grin. "After only two months and they've already managed to catch up to a fifth year curriculum," he murmured. "I am suitably impressed."

Harry looked to Remus. "Any of them in Gryffindor?" he asked smiling.

"Sama- I mean, Sam," Hermione corrected herself and answering for Remus. "She's very much a Gryffindor," she added shaking her head in recollection.

"What about the others?" another voice interjected tiredly.

"Ron!" Hermione squeaked. "You scared me!" He had snuck up behind the two while they had been chatting.

Remus took his wand and cleaned out his cup of tea casually. "Tucker Foley is in Ravenclaw," he said before pausing and looking to Hermione.

Knowing the consequences of opening her mouth this time around, Hermione sighed again and looked to Harry and Ron. "Danny Fenton was Sorted into Slytherin."

"Wait," Ron said suddenly, holding a hand up. "You spent two weeks with a Slytherin ? In your house ?" he questioned with badly hidden incredulity.

Harry frowned immediately. "What was he like?" he asked seriously, side-stepping an argument waiting to happen.

"Before you get all prejudiced, I'll have you know that he's perfectly fine," Hermione said heatedly. "He's very sweet," she added before blushing and rolling her eyes. "You know what I mean. He's not Malfoy."

The two boys bristled lightly at the mere mention of their collective enemy. "He could have tricked you!" Ron almost shouted, his face starting to turn pink. "You don't know anything about him!"

Harry, although considering Ron's argument, winced at this.

Hermione closely resembled Molly Weasley when swelled with indignation. "I certainly know him better than you," she hissed. "And none of them knew anything about the wizarding world until just last month! It's incredibly unfair to judge him on knowledge he doesn't have," she yelled back. "I don't want either of you bothering him, ever, do you understand me?" she told them, in no uncertain terms, her voice cold.

Harry conceded with a nod of his head, saying nothing. Ron growled incoherently and then turned his head. "If he does anything to hurt you, all bets are off," he added suddenly.

Harry and Hermione both blinked at him, but it was Hermione who smiled, blushing. "Of course," she said, grinning a little as he blushed back.

Shaking his head and making a face, Harry waved to Remus (who looked like he was trying not to laugh) and headed back upstairs. The three Americans certainly sounded interesting.

The written portion of the test was, to put it mildly, terrifying.

Danny didn't like remembering his retake of the CAT's, but the pressure on his shoulders reminded him of them greatly.

The professors he'd never met before, along with Remus and Dumbledore, had created a cumulative written exam that had approximately five or six essays and a multitude of other short answer questions.

Needless to say, it was grueling – especially since they were writing with quills and parchment. Hermione had taught them how to use them, but they had avoided writing with quills as much as possible. All three of them were regretting it now; Danny swore his hand was going to fall off after the fifth hour.

"You think any of us will actually pass?" asked Tucker in a doomed voice. This was the third fifteen minute break they had been allotted since the test began.

"Of course we will!" Sam said angrily, her quill bending in her fist. "We've come too far to fail."

Danny frowned, and yawned. "Well, either way, we're going to Hogwarts," he said simply. "They can't just Sort us and then leave us. We'll try again next year if we have to," he continued, stretching. "Come on. Let's do this," he said smirking.

Trudging through the rest of the test didn't feel nearly as tiresome, and Danny felt better about his answers. He was sure the History portion of his exam was really not comprehensive at all. When he saw Sam scribbling like mad on her parchment during that section, he couldn't help a small smile lift his lips upwards. Obviously, Sam did not share his worries.

Remus had been tutoring them in Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as Charms and Transfiguration. It was a lot, for one person to teach. Dumbledore himself took the three and gave them lessons in Wizarding History. He was the most qualified to do so, after all. Unfortunately, a class held at 8:00am was still not as interesting to Danny as the back of his eyelids. Still, Dumbledore seemed oddly interested in the three – despite the old wizard's cheerful demeanor – and it bothered Danny somewhat for a reason he couldn't quite fathom.

The other thing they had to learn was Potions. It was complicated, getting someone who was good enough to teach them; according to Remus their best expert was currently out of touch. But Dumbledore eventually found a good friend to come up and tutor the three students during their last few weeks before the exam. Apparently, --- Slughorn owed the old man a favor. Danny thought he was a bit pompous, but he wasn't a bad teacher – he knew what he was doing. It helped that Potions was starting to turn into his favorite subject; the laboratory made it seem like he was back at home.

By the time they were finished with the written test(s), it was dark outside. Night had fallen without them even realizing it. Dumbledore had Remus owl a note to the Granger's, telling the muggle couple that the three Americans were very tired. He also insisted that a night in the castle would help them acclimatize for when they actually started attending Hogwarts.

Sam, Tucker, and Danny were herded by Remus to a room that held two rooms inside – one for Tucker and Danny, and the other for Sam. It was where they would spend the night. Sam had firmly reminded Remus to firmly remind the Grangers to feed her black kitty Bast (Sam had a thing for Egyptian mythology – Bast was a cat goddess, so this fit rather well) her daily dose of tuna. Draco on the other hand, had followed Danny to Hogwarts, so he was roosting in the Owlery.

Danny groaned as soon as he hit the bed. Tomorrow they would be tested on their spell work. All practical arts, like Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, and Potions, would be tested. There would also be more written tests on some of their optional classes as well.

He had automatically picked Astronomy as his first course elective. Sam, once she had learned of Care for Magical Creatures and Herbology, hardly thought any extra classes were needed. But apparently, she had been nudged into Arithmancy (and Ancient Runes) by an enthusiastic Remus, who had insisted she was perfect for the class. Tucker was goaded into it – rather unenthusiastically – as well. Danny, on the other hand, had a headache a few minutes into that session and had to sit himself out.

Divination was a class all three had been mildly dubious to take, but after Remus remarked that it was quite easy to catch up during the next year, all three had immediately signed the proverbial dotted line.

"This is a lot harder than I thought," Tucker admitted to him after they had gotten ready for a nice, long sleep. Danny yawned, and grinned tiredly.

"If this was going to be easy, I'd be worried," he said to his friend, who laughed in return and waved a hand while turning over in his sheets. Danny soon followed suit and closed his eyes, smiling slightly to himself.

"I expected you to be more nervous," the strict-looking woman said in complete honesty.

Sam grinned while Danny and Tucker chuckled. "We are – we just hide our anxiety really well," the girl admitted, taking a step forward. "Am I correct in assuming that you are Professor McGonagall?" she asked, raising a hand for the older woman to shake.

The other woman raised an eyebrow and took Sam's hand, shaking it in a very professional manner. "Yes," she said simply. "I am."

"You're also the Head of House for Gryffindor, right?" she asked her eagerly. "Hermione Granger told us," she added quickly, blushing slightly.

"I am Head of House for Gryffindor, yes," Professor McGonagall confirmed, a miniscule lift of her lips the only sign of her amusement. "Now, before any more pleasantries are exchanged, I must instruct you on how this exam shall be preformed."

Danny had a feeling that this was how Professor McGonagall acted no matter who she was dealing with. Fortunately for them the session did not take long. Of course, that didn't mean it wasn't exciting. Sam managed to transfigure one of her goblets into a bird for the briefest of moments until it suddenly grew incredibly large. An amusing scene followed, in which Sam was chased around by a giant parakeet.

Tucker and Danny couldn't help but laugh. Then Tucker turned his tea kettle into a furry tea pot, and Danny got bitten by the hat he had turned into a rat. It figured, he thought angrily, that one of the few times his magic worked on the first try, it bit him on the hand – literally.

Other than that, however, the exam went well for Tucker and Sam; Danny had a few magical mishaps where nothing would happen. He was afraid it would count against him, but McGonagall assured him that she had been informed of his 'impairment' beforehand and had taken it into account. Feeling mollified and mortified, Danny could only nod and thank her.

The Herbology practical was hosted by a sweet witch by the name of Professor Sprout. Sam was beaming the entire time while Tucker was wrestling with the few plants he had in his tray. Danny did pretty well, though not as amazingly as Sam, nor as abysmally as Tucker. The three of them averaged out, he thought.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was something Danny seemed to be rather good at, despite his inefficiency with the wand and thanks to Remus and his tutoring. A dark, solemn, but still strangely familiar looking man was awaiting them when they entered the classroom.

"Hello," he greeted in a deep voice. "I am Auror Kingsley Shacklebot, a friend of Albus Dumbledore's. He requested I host your Defense exam."

The three of them, Danny thought, probably looked awed. The man was tall .

"It's good to meet you," Tucker said suddenly, trying to break the silence. Then Danny realized where he had seen him before: in one of Dumbledore's memories – he was a current member of the Order. A little impressed at his ability to remember such a thing, Danny smiled.

"Yeah, I take it you don't normally do this?" Danny asked while taking a seat. The man blinked and then smiled slightly.

"No," he admitted. "But Albus is an old friend, and I owed him a favor," he clarified. "Now review to me exactly what you have learned for this course."

Danny was amazed that his magic actually worked for this exam. Sam still kicked his butt, as well as Tucker's, surprisingly, but he was happy that everything he tried actually managed to work. The most interesting part of the exam happened when Danny pulled off his Patronus for the first time, well, ever. Sam had managed a mangled corporeal one, and Tucker had only managed a wispy silver shield.

Danny had been working particularly hard on this spell, for some reason uncannily perturbed by his incapability to make it work. For the exam, he had prepared a special memory: flying. In his haste to do the spell before, he only focused on memories with his family, or friends. There was little about his life as a ghost that he really, honestly enjoyed, but flying was definitely up there. Along with, you know, saving lives.

" Expecto Patronum ." He said the words quietly with his eyes closed, but the light that illuminated the room overshadowed everything else. When he focused his eyes, he saw a faint outline of something very familiar.

Tucker, who was to his left at the time, blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes. "What was that?" he asked bewildered.

"Danny you did it!" cried Sam happily. "You actually did it! Your Patronus went corporeal!"

Danny could only grin widely until he saw what he had finally produced.

'Cujo,' the puppy he had unintentionally adopted, was sitting on his haunches, a contagious doggy grin plastered on his mug. Danny gaped and looked positively speechless.

Sam and Tucker immediately burst into laughter. This, however, got the attention of the small dog, which growled and transformed into a large monster of a canine before fading away.

If it was any credit to 'Cujo,' his two friends looked a little more respectful.

"That was impressive for someone with such a spotty spell record," Auror Shacklebot said, walking up to Danny. "Congratulations. You have my curiosity officially piqued." He raised an intrigued eyebrow.

Danny blushed and laughed nervously. "Uh, it's kind of an inside joke," Danny said weakly. "Long story."

"Indeed," Shacklebot said, still amused, before continuing the tests.

They took a lunch break on the lawn outside. Thankfully, it was sunny and warm, so they weren't drenched when they came back in for their last few exams. The food had come in the form of pre-delivered baskets, already prepared for them in their room. Sam had nudged the two boys outside to enjoy the sun.

Danny felt like the entire day was moving as fast as molasses. Especially so when they finally trudged down to their Care of Magical Creatures exam, which happened to be situated as far away from their rooms as possible.

Following that exam, in which Sam hugged a unicorn (which made Danny snort with laughter, and Tucker fall over – offenses for which Sam punished them with two firm Silencios), they had Charms. Hosted by what honestly looked like a small troll named Professor Flitwick, Charms was the most entertaining exam they had had yet. Tucker managed to grow his hair by accident – he was supposed to be getting his hair to comb itself – and curling it Shirley Temple style. Sam hiccupped while trying to summon a pillow and caused it to explode. Danny was so clumsy; he tried not to remember his mistakes (when his magic worked). Needless to say, he walked out of this disaster with robin egg blue streaked hair and one hand painted black.

Flitwick, obviously trying to calm a panicking Danny, had squeakily informed them that all these changes would wear off in an hour or so. The tiny professor had tried to remove the odd colors (and re-arrange Tucker's hair), but to no avail. Thankfully, Flitwick also considered that impressive.

Now the three of them were on their way to their last exam: Potions.

Danny had been waiting for this one all day. For him Potions was pretty easy – add the right amount in the right order for the right amount of time, and usually, things worked well. Both Tucker and Sam had issues remembering the ingredients (and the specific details about when to pluck what, and so forth), but Danny absorbed the information like a sponge.

He wondered why he couldn't do that with Chemistry before he remembered that instead of studying, he was usually out fighting ghosts with extreme vigilance.

They entered the dark dungeon tentatively – it was, as described, very dark. Danny stubbed his toe on one of the desk legs and hissed his displeasure.

"You are late," one of the shadows in front of the classroom spoke harshly. "I have more important matters to attend to," he added gesturing towards the three prepared cauldrons, the unheard suggestion to sit echoing loudly. His voice reminded Danny of Clockwork's without the warmth (and with the addition of a British accent).

After sitting down quietly, Danny finally got a glimpse of their examiner. He was tall, dark, and gaunt – generally unpleasant looking according to his expression. Tucker and Sam were looking anywhere but his eyes, but Danny sought them out on purpose.

A sharp tingling feeling in the back of head made his eyes water. He shook his head and frowned, leaving the sinister tunnels that made up this examiner's cold gaze.

Their host glanced sharply at Danny, a perturbed expression on his face. For some reason, Danny found this more disturbing than the man's glare. "I am Professor Snape," he introduced briskly. "Learn quickly, and you will have few problems in my class. If you do not, you will undoubtedly reap whatever consequences your idiocy shall sow."

Danny would have been more offended, but he was too busy being stunned. He had never heard any teacher speak to his students like that before. Looking at Sam briefly, her outrage was rather evident; he took a deep mental breath and prepared himself for the worst.

He was right – Lancer was a picnic compared to Snape. It wasn't the exam that was hard; for Danny at least, it was the cold glaring silence that Snape seemed to permeate throughout his entire being. Judging glances were something Danny had generally become accustomed to, but this much disdain from someone he barely knew gnawed at his nerves.

Sam and Tucker left almost as quickly as Danny wanted to. Unfortunately, he was caught on the way out the door.

"Mr. Fenton. A word."

Danny groaned loudly in his head. Outwardly, he turned around to head back to Professor Snape's desk. "Yes sir?" he questioned, an honest kernel of curiosity nestled within a mountain of nervous tension.

"I would like to know how you've learned to Occlude so well," he asked in a not-question, his voice very severe.

To Danny, he might as well have been speaking Portuguese. "Sorry?" he asked back, confused.

Snape grew impatient rather quickly. "Do not play dumb boy," he hissed in a raspy voice. "Surely you don't believe yourself to be the only Occlumens in the world?"

Danny frowned. "I'm really sorry sir," he said as sincerely as possible. "But I have no idea what you're talking about."

Snape shot a quick glance at Danny's crest and raised an eyebrow. "Very well," he said. "As your Head of House, I will have ample time to find out. You are dismissed." He gestured toward the door and turned away, his black robes billowing behind him.

Danny stared after him for a moment before running out the door, trying to catch up to his friends.

"What the heck does that mean?" asked Sam at the same time Tucker exclaimed, "That creep is your Head of House?"

"I have no idea, and yeah, unfortunately," Danny answered to both questions, his tone glum.

"Well, either way, you're going to have to deal with him," Sam warned. "Try not to get angry at him or anything."

Danny shot her an incredulous look. "You're telling me this? I wasn't the one who was turning red back there."

Sam raised her nose into the air and huffed. "Well, I know you can have a temper if you want – so there."

The three of them trudged to Dumbledore's office, directions to which they had been given prior to their multi-faceted practical (none of them could remember where it was from the last time they were here). The last rays of sunlight were playing against the shadows of the ancient stone castle, and Danny took a deep breath.

"Well, here we are."

Tucker and Sam looked to each other. "Come on," Tucker said, a weak smile on his face. "Let's get this over with."

With this much anxiety, one would think that something terrible was bound to happen. In fact, Danny was expecting it. A quick mental calculation in his head told him that if anyone was going to flunk out, it would be him: and he was okay with that in a way (okay, not so okay, but he was trying desperately to reassure himself).

He knocked on the old oak door and waited until Dumbledore's voice called, "Enter!"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore smiled at them knowingly. "Please sit; I'm sure you are all exhausted."

The three hopeful students would have glared at him if they weren't…well, so exhausted. "Just tell us," Tucker pleaded faintly. "I don't think I can stand waiting anymore."

Dumbledore acquiesced with a nod. "Very well. As I'm sure you are already aware, these tests were given to evaluate you on your current physical skills, as well as the knowledge you had prepared in the months prior." He moved out in front of his desk. "What you may not have known, is that these tests were merely set up as a front to examine your ability to learn."

The American teens blinked and tilted their heads collectively. "You mean…we didn't have to do all of that?" Tucker asked, his tone flat.

"Oh no, you most certainly had to prove that you could handle yourselves in the year we would be placing you. In fact, you exceeded our expectations. But the important thing was that you worked hard, studied, and continued to learn even after you were done – you all have the capacity to handle the coming year with grace." Dumbledore tossed each of them a lemon drop from seemingly nowhere. "Congratulations, you are now officially enrolled in Hogwarts," he announced, grinning widely beneath his long beard.

Much hugging and crying (in Sam's case mainly; Danny and Tucker were just remembering how to breathe properly) and laughter soon followed, and Danny looked at Dumbledore's expression to see that the old man was as pleased as they were.

They wrapped up the evening by saying goodbye and farewells to all those who had helped them that day. Danny was too busy feeling happy to notice Professor Snape speaking in hushed tones to a serious Dumbledore – both of them glancing in his direction.

Tomorrow , he thought with glee. Tomorrow our world will get really interesting .

Immediately after being directed onto Platform 9 ¾ by Remus (who had volunteered to take them there via side-along apparition rather than by a Floo or portkey), Danny groaned and tried not to his head on something hard and unyielding.

Tucker and Sam had disappeared among the crowd almost immediately, and Danny – frantic about just getting on the train – simply decided that the two couldn't miss the big, purple, steam-powered monster and ran on board. Draco hooted at him indignantly when he tossed the cage on top of the rest of the luggage carelessly. He sent his owl an apologetic look and clamored into the train.

The whole thing was something out of the 1900's; everything was wood carved and plush fabrics, and Danny felt like he shouldn't actually touch anything, lest it fall apart. Setting aside the thought, he went forward and started his search for Tucker and Sam.

It was odd, but he wasn't sure if he was imagining it. Every time he poked his head into a compartment asking about his friends, he received an answer of 'no' with cold glares. Thinking that he hadn't done anything yet to warrant such looks, Danny did his best to act the wallflower and simply ignore them.

It got awkward at one of the booths, however, when he stuck his head in and saw a large group of people – some sneering and some laughing.

"Um," he managed, bewildered. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have a question…."

"Oh. What do you want?" the boy with sandy-blonde hair asked him in a flat, uncaring brogue.

Danny couldn't help his irritation at the other boy's tone. "I was looking for some of my friends and –"

"Well they obviously aren't here are they? We're all Gryffindors!" he said angrily. "Go look for your friends elsewhere."

A puzzled expression crossed his face. "What does being a Gryffindor have anything to do with not being my friend?" he asked confused.

"A lot, actually," said an amused voice from behind him. "But I'm assuming you didn't know that."

He turned around and blinked.

For a moment, he thought he had been hit on the head and was seeing double, but after one vicious eye-rubbing, he decided that he wasn't. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," he muttered quickly to the compartment of angry people, trying to get away.

And failing.

"Fred, I think this Slytherin is out of his mind."

"Indeed. Barmy all around I'd say, George."

"Wandering around Gryffindor territory without any friends? Insanity!"

Danny watched them like he would watch a metronome. "Uh, sorry," he said, waving a hand. "I didn't know it was illegal."

The twin red-heads (Fred and George, he presumed) looked to each other, their own expressions mildly puzzled. "And he's polite! The one Slytherin we've never seen before, and he's the one that turns out to be the nicest – unless he's playing us."

'Fred' winced. "Oh dear, that would be terrible. It's highly inadvisable to play us ."

"Very true oh brother of mine," 'George' responded wickedly.

Danny's warning signal was going off like anything. "I should really just be going," he said pointing in the opposite direction. "You know, away."

They both laughed in unison which unnerved Danny even more. He was about to just make a run for it before…

"Fred! George! Stop harassing the innocents!" came an angry girl's voice.

"But he's a Slytherin!" they both cried together, turning to face the voice. Danny looked over their shoulders' and saw a smaller, red-headed girl glaring at them.

But she paused thoughtfully. "Any familiarity with the name Malfoy?" she asked, and it took Danny a moment to realize that she was talking to him.

"Mm? Uh, no, not really," he answered.

There was a moment of silence. "Is that even possible?" Fred asked quietly.

Another moment passed before the red-headed girl (with a familial resemblance to the strange twins in front of him) smiled. "You wouldn't happen to be Danny, would you? Hermione's told me about you."

Immense relief swamped him and he grinned weakly. "Right, friend of Hermione. Got it," he said grinning. "I'm Danny Fenton," he said to her. "And you are…?"

"Ginny Weasley," she said, arching an eyebrow. "Are you sure the Hat put you in the right house?"

Danny had been getting that question a lot recently. "Probably. I don't really know, do I?" he asked in return, feeling mildly annoyed that he was being treated differently because of his house.

The girl looked a little apologetic but wary. "Right. Those two are Fred and George. They're my older twin brothers as well as identical pain in the collective arse."

"Oy!" they cried. Danny couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"He's alright, you two," Ginny continued talking to the twins. "Hermione's got substantial evidence to back it up."

"Heh, alright," 'George' said lightly. "We trust Our Lady of Protocol."

"No need to fret," 'Fred' added. "We'll see what he's like in school first. What comes after is up to him."

Danny was very much nervous. "Right," he said in return. "It was…interesting to meet you," he said, trying to be nice anyway.

They turned and walked away, waving jovially behind them as they did. Ginny shook her head in exasperation and tugged on Danny's sleeve. "Don't mind them," she told him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "They're on automatic response to anyone wearing green and silver."

He thought about this and turned to her. "I guess Hermione was playing down the house rivalries a bit," he said dryly. "I'm sort of afraid to meet the people that they base their assumptions on."

Ginny's expression lightened before darkening. "Yeah, and I'm sorry you're going to have to," she said with a frown. Then she blinked and laughed. "Oh, you don't even know where the Slytherin section usually sits, do you?" she said smiling.

Danny shook his head. "I was just looking for my friends," he said simply. "But apparently they've been eaten alive by the train."

It was quick, but Danny saw a real smile cross her lips. "Come on, I'll take you to find them."

After the big fuss earlier, and his difficulties, he decided this was the best way to go. "Lead on," he said, bobbing his head and gesturing in a direction. Ginny smirked and walked off, Danny following quickly behind her.

After a while, it had seemed like they had searched the train twice up and down to find Sam and Tucker. It was on their way past the prefect compartments (Ginny had pointed them out earlier) that Danny spotted someone familiar.

"Tuck!" he cried in amazement. "How did you get…here?"

He saw Tucker trying to become invisible against a wall and frowned. "Tucker?" he called again, Ginny at his side.

"Ah!" he cried, his PDA slipping from his fingers. Ginny's wand was out in a second, levitating it back up to Tucker's eye-level. Danny glanced at her wide-eyed.

"Sorry…habit," she said sheepishly.

"Where the heck have you been Tuck?" he asked his friend. "I think I've been up and down this train three times!"

The other boy shook his head. "Some of the others started bothering me about my Precious," Danny assumed this was the PDA, "So I took refuge out here."

Ginny looked intrigued. "What exactly is that thing?" she asked Danny. Her eyes had finally relaxed. Danny had automatically let down his polite-but-distant attitude once Tucker had appeared. He was certainly not the typical Slytherin.

"Long story," muttered Danny. "Come on Tuck, let's go find Sam."

"I'm Ginny," she told Tucker.

"Nice to meet you," Tucker said suavely. Danny resisted the urge to groan aloud. "I'm Tucker. Tucker Foley; that's T.F, as in –"

"Uh Tuck? Hello?" Danny interrupted frantically. "Remember Sam?"

The three moved onward, with Tucker sulking behind them.

Danny was drawn to the loud noises emanating from one of the compartments. For some reason, a nudge from his head told him Sam might be involved with it somehow.

He hated it when he was right. (Sometimes).

"…and they say it has all to do with blood!" cried a familiar voice.

Danny slowly opened the door, hoping to avoid serious bloodshed, if at all possible.

"They say they care what's on the inside, but that's just as superficial as only caring about what's on the outside – oh, hey Danny!" Sam said in a cheerful voice. Danny saw that Bast and Crookshanks were playing on the floor with one another. "Hermione and I were just discussing wizarding social issues."

"Please…please don't get her started on the house elves," muttered another familiar face.

Danny blinked and refrained from greeting Harry in a manner which suggested they knew each other.

"Hey Harry," Ginny chirped from the doorway. "Mind if we join you?"

"Oh Danny! Tucker!" Hermione finally spoke up, smiling widely. "Yes, please join us," she waved them inside, even though there wasn't much room to sit comfortably. "Harry, this is Danny Fenton and Tucker Foley, they're the other two transfers," she added as an introduction.

Harry nodded in a friendly manner, grinning slightly to both. Then he blinked at Danny. "Slytherin? Really?" he said aloud, slightly suspicious and testing Danny to gauge his response.

"I know," Ginny expressed in amazement as she interrupted Danny's not-so-well planned answer.

"And he's as muggleborn as me, as far as I know," Hermione added in a low, puzzled tone that only Harry was supposed to hear, but Danny picked up nonetheless.

"It's just," Ginny floundered for a moment, "Most of the Slytherins we know are tossers to the highest degree. You don't seem that bad."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks," he said dryly.

Harry studied him for a moment before turning to Tucker asking, "Is that a PDA? And it's still working?"

This led to a discussion on electronics and magic, involving Hermione, Sam, Tucker, and Harry, leaving Danny and Ginny to themselves.

Ginny asked about his family, and Danny, though uncomfortable, opened up a little. "I have one older sister, Jazz," he said and then chuckled. "She's the Only Normal Fenton, apparently. Gets good grades, top of her class, still has some of her sanity left," he said ticking Jazz's traits off his fingers. "And she's popular. Pretty much everything I'm not. Which is fine! I mean, I've got Sam and Tuck, so I'm good."

Ginny stared at him for a moment and shook her head. "That's…pretty first-rate of you," she said kindly. "I mean, I'm sure you aren't completely unwelcome," she told him sincerely.

Danny just laughed. "Like I said, I don't really care much about popularity – I mean, I did (and sometimes, I still do) but it's not all it's cracked up to be," he said finally.

Sam grinned slightly when she heard this, but said nothing.

"Were there others here before us?" asked Danny suddenly. "I mean – we still have to change right? And I don't think they'd like us taking up their seats." Sam and Tucker snapped to attention at this, and the three of them glanced at the other present trio.

"I think they're still changing," Hermione cleared up. "I didn't think it would take this long though."

"Well Danny's right," Sam said. "We do need to change."

"I'm still surprised you went along with this whole uniform thing," Tucker snorted, making Ginny and Hermione quirk their eyebrows simultaneously.

"It's black," Sam said simply.

Hermione pointed at her robes. "Have you even seen the Gryffindor house colors?" she queried with a smile.

It took a moment before Sam blanched. "Purple and red do not mix," she grumbled on her way out the door, causing a few snickers in her wake.

Danny, simply put, was nervous.

He had escaped Ginny and others, Sam and Tucker telling the rest that he had luggage issues to take care of before the Feast. He knew that unless he transformed immediately after he made his brief appearance, his new acquaintances would get suspicious very quickly.

Especially after Sam and Tucker both screamed at what appeared to be thin air. Danny, for the life of him, couldn't tell what the heck they were acting all nervous about until Harry made the same noise of startled fright.

"What are those things, d'you reckon?" he heard Harry ask Ron a few minutes later; just as he turned to Sam and Tucker to ask, "What are you looking at?"

Tucker shuddered. "They look horrible," he said in a pained voice. "Like…like demon horses."

Sam managed a small grin, her face still pale. "I think they look awesome ," she said quietly. "But, Danny…can't you see them?"

He shook his head discreetly. "No," he said, "But I think you aren't the only ones." His eyes flickered over to Harry, who was alternating between talking to Ron and glancing nervously over to the 'invisible' horses of doom. "We should find out what they are later."

Sam nodded while Tucker shook his head. "You better get in the carriage. After we arrive, you're going to have to go ghost and follow us," Sam advised him as the three entered the carriage behind Harry and Ron's.

This scenario occurred in a desperately done escape that almost alerted others to his presence when he forgot to go intangible as well as invisible. Floating, he watched the students enter the large gates of Hogwarts, and quietly as possible, followed.

He recognized many of the professors from their practical exams – Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Snape, Grubbly-Plank, and the nice lady from their Herbology final, Professor Sprout. As well as Dumbledore, of course, whom he tapped on the shoulder to inform of his presence. The headmaster merely looked over to him and winked.

It took Danny a moment before he realized that Dumbledore could still see him, even when he was invisible.

Immediately trying to shake himself out of his shock, Danny went back to looking at the tables and saw more familiar faces. He spotted the Sorting Hat, which had been placed carefully on the same rickety stool he had sat on before. Sir Nicholas had also spotted him and waved.

"Well hello again young half-breed," he greeted cheerfully as he floated close enough that no one besides Danny could hear him – a small favor for which the ghost boy was grateful. "I thought I'd introduce you to our little group; they've been rather anxious to meet you."

Danny muffled his ghost sense as the Sorting Hat started to recite some sort of poem. "Oh, uh, really?" he managed, gulping nervously. He watched as a few more ghosts appeared from behind the walls of the Great Hall.

"Oh yes," Nicholas stated proudly. "This is the Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff, and The Grey Lady of Ravenclaw," he introduced the first two – a short, chubby friar and a mournful, but still beautiful lady – and they inclined their heads.

"Good to meet you lad," the Friar said cheerfully as the Lady smiled gently. Danny nodded, very much thankful that all of this was occurring where no one else would be able to see. But before he could say anything else another ghost arrived.

He looked terrible; gaunt and gloomy looking, with what Danny thought might be bloodstains on his tunic. "Ah yes," Nicholas continued. "And this is the Slytherin ghost, the Bloody Baron."

Danny opened his mouth to say something, but was once more interrupted by none other than the Bloody Baron himself, who had bowed his head in polite recognition.

"The young warrior I have heard so much about," the disturbing ghost croaked. Danny had a sneaking suspicion that the he hadn't used his voice in quite a while. "It is an honor."

To his credit, the other ghosts looked as stunned as he felt. "Thank you?" he suggested lamely, not quite used to the recognition he was receiving from complete strangers. He looked over to the Staff table and saw that McGonagall was just starting to read off new students for the Sorting Ceremony – Hermione had informed him of this tradition before she had left for Grimmauld.

"None of the other's usually venture this far out into the castle I'm afraid – but you'll meet them soon enough," Sir Nicholas added encouragingly.

"Sorry," he said suddenly to the four of them. "I'm not used to this." He hunched a little in apology. "And, uh, I know this is bit weird of me to ask, but could you not you know, advertise the fact that I'm only half ghost?"

The four looked to one another. "If it's alright with you, may we ask why?" the Lady queried curiously. "Surely there is no reason to hide?"

Danny sighed. "I'm just a little uncomfortable with other people –aside from my friends – knowing. At least, not yet."

The Lady nodded and smiled kindly. "Then we will gladly spread the word. Your secret is safe with us."

"Peeves will be dealt with," the Baron added before he disappeared abruptly with a nod in Danny's direction.

The Fat Friar and Sir Nicholas both nodded as well, and, before he moved away, Nicholas clapped Danny on the shoulder and whispered, "I do believe that is the most I've heard from the Baron in over 200 years – you really are a marvel." The regal looking ghost grinned and waved before leaving with the Friar.

"The Sorting is almost over," the Lady prodded him gently. "Dumbledore will introduce you; just reappear next to him and wave." She smiled at him and he found himself grinning nervously back.

"Thanks," he said sincerely, secretly happy for the support.

"You're welcome. All of the ghosts here are happy to help you if you need it, except maybe Peeves," she replied and smiled softly before disappearing as well.

Danny waved to her before he turned his attention to the Feast, watching Albus rise from his chair.

"To our newcomers," said Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, "welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! This, however, is a time for a quick introduction to a new member of the castle," he turned to look at Danny, and the ghost immediately landed, turning visible. "This is our new resident, Danny Phantom – he's taken the post as our second poltergeist! Hopefully, you will all get a chance to meet and welcome him to our humble abode," he finished, bowing his head.

Danny swallowed, his throat inexplicably dry. It was deathly silent out amongst the House tables, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. "Uh," he started, "hi."

It was like a dam breaking. Whispers rose into the air like rustling leaves, some harsh, some light-hearted, all curious. Danny swore he saw a few of the girl's down in the front row light up with an expression he didn't recognize.

"Well, now that he has met you all, I'm afraid it is time to feast!" Dumbledore started again, inadvertently rescuing him. Danny grinned with relief and rose into the air, waving once more before winking out of existence to the rest of the Hall's occupants and zooming away to find a secluded hiding spot. Danny Fenton needed to get back to the Great Hall as soon as he possibly could.

As he ran back into the Great Hall, Danny's eyes slid over to his own table and he gulped on reflex.

Okay, so maybe he was a half-ghost super hero, and he fought dangerous creatures all the time, but the thought of meeting new schoolmates was still highly unwelcome.

He watched Sam laugh at something Ginny said, and Tucker was already sitting down and talking to another person in blue and black. Sighing, Danny made his way over to the predominantly green table and sat himself down at the end, feeling a bit left out.

"Hm, never seen you before," a voice interrupted his thoughts. "You look too old to be a First Year."

He turned his head to his left and looked into the hazel eyes of a boy about his age. "Er, no, I'm a transfer," he said quietly, trying to muster up some of that courage he was so famous for back home.

"Well, it's nice to have more on our side," the boy said plainly, smiling dryly. "We Slytherins need to stick together, right?"

Danny nodded absently. "I had heard that house rivalries were pretty hard-core here," he said thinking, trying to wean some information from this unknown house mate.

The pale boy simply nodded, saying no more on the subject to Danny's disappointment. "Hey," he started, "Your accent…you're from America?" he asked Danny while taking a bite out of his roll.

The raven-haired American nodded smiling a little. "Yeah," he said and felt mildly moronic for answering monosyllabically. "Hogwarts is mostly European, so I thought I'd be a bit of a sore thumb," he added, just for emphasis.

The boy swallowed and held out his hand. "I'm Bartholomew Harper," he said by way of introduction.

"Daniel Fenton," he responded. "But call me Danny."

It was sort of surreal. After all he had heard of the Slytherin House, Danny had expected to find a bunch of angry, evil people. Harper seemed okay, which was a nice surprise, but unexpected.

Harper turned to his plate and then blinked. "Why were you late to the Sorting?" he asked him suddenly. "I don't remember you coming in."

Danny, who had forgotten to knock on wood (or something equally auspicious) after his last few thoughts, chuckled nervously. "Oh that! I just had a few things to do beforehand – luggage issues mainly."

Harper stared at him a moment before smiling slightly. "Right." He took another bite of his roll and gestured towards the food. "Only the First Years sit here. Truth is, I was late too – that's why the food is practically untouched," he explained. "Come on, eat. This food won't bite you back, I think," he added, grinning wickedly.

Danny cracked a nervous smile and took a roll. Before he could take a bite, a hand in front of his face stopped him and he yelped.

From behind him, he heard Sam's familiar cackled of achievement. "Hah! Serves you right for making fun of me earlier!" she crowed.

"And what makes you think you're allowed anywhere near this table?" asked a cold voice from Danny's left.

When he looked up, he immediately came face to face with a sneer and cold grey eyes. Danny saw Harper tense and shrink into the background.

"Well, I didn't think there was a law against walking over here," Sam said, her voice bright, but starting to tighten.

"I suggest you leave, Gryffindor," the blonde boy said quietly before smirking. "It's a bit…dangerous for you to loiter around here," he added, crossing his arms.

Sam bristled visibly. "You don't have a right to tell me what to do," she said in a heated voice, crossing her own arms.

Danny was about to just grab her and just walk away when the blonde boy closed the space between the two of them. "You practically reek commoner," he said haughtily as Sam's eyes practically sparked with ire. "And you'll find that I have every right to tell you what to do. This is Slytherin territory – and I suggest you leave before you find how painful a few good curses can be," he said the last part in a whisper.

But Danny still heard him.

"Hey!" he said loudly as he stood up, gathering half the Hall's attention to him. "Back off," he said in an irritated voice.

The blonde's expression was one of complete shell-shock. "What are you doing?" he hissed. "Defending a mudblood ?"

Unfortunately, the last word happened to be the one that echoed the loudest. Sam looked as if she had been slapped and Danny saw Tucker stand up, looking furious. The rest of the houses started whispering harshly into the sudden silence. All Danny felt was confusion. And a bit of anger. The two were not the best combination of emotions.

"Uh, that's my job," Danny said matter-of-factly. "I'm her friend. Friends defend each other when jerks start egging them on," he said, annoyance finally starting to get the better of him. "And you are being a real jerk," he added for good measure.

"How dare you?" the blonde said in a voice that was doing its best not to yell.

"Mr. Malfoy, that will be enough!" a scandalized voice that Danny recognized as Professor McGonagall, pronounced. "I'd like a word with you," she said to Malfoy in a cold voice. "You two take your seats," she added to Danny and Sam in a gentler tone.

Sam nodded stiffly and looked to Danny. Danny looked back at her mildly relieved. "Thanks," she said in a near whisper. "I'll talk to you later." And with that, she walked back over to the Gryffindor table, her back still straight.

"We will speak later about this," the now named Malfoy told Danny angrily. "Mark my words." He whirled around and walked back up to his previous seating.

Harper, now coming out of hiding, pulled Danny's sleeve to get him to sit back down. "You have friends in Gryffindor?" he asked needlessly, sounding mildly amazed.

"We have been friends for a long time," Danny said, stabbing his mashed potatoes angrily. "It has not, nor will it ever be about houses!" he said in frustration. "Why does everyone get so worked up about this?" he asked rhetorically.

Harper shook his head. "Look, I don't know you very well, but you stood up to Malfoy for a friend, who just happens to also be in Gryffindor. Either you're playing an extremely smart game, or a really stupid one."

"It's probably both," Danny muttered, finally starting to cool off. This was a good thing, really, because the fork he had been holding the entire time had melted against the palm of his hand. "But this isn't a game," he said.

"I really don't think you have any idea what you've just done," another voice from his left said in astonishment.

Danny looked to the sound and saw a young girl with brown wavy hair and matching eyes. "You shouldn't be doing that – talking back to Malfoy – especially now," she said seriously. "I mean, you seem really nice. I wouldn't want you to get in any trouble."

"Tracey's right," another voice added, small and nervous. Danny immediately looked toward the sound and saw a young boy looking at him apprehensively.

"Pritchard," Harper said in exasperation, "What are you doing here?"

Tracey glanced to Pritchard and then back to Danny. "Look," she started uncomfortably. "I got off on the wrong foot and ended up at the bottom of the cauldron, so to speak," she muttered. "We aren't all rich little purebloods," she added, her voice starting to turn into a sneer.

Danny was beginning to feel overwhelmed. "Uh, look," he began. "I don't know anything about this place – and I really don't know about the whole House rivalry thing." The other three all reacted differently, but all of them looked shocked in some manner.

"No one told you how things worked here?" Harper asked shaking his head. "Well, that explains a lot."

Danny felt eyes on him from further down the table, most of them feeling ominous and not-so-great. He looked to the three who had even bothered to talk to him and smiled slightly.

"Maybe you should enlighten me," he said casually.

Pritchard and Tracey blinked at him. Harper smirked and clapped lightly. "That's the most Slytherin-like you've been all evening," he said in admiration, only slightly mocking. "I feel so proud," he added, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

Danny snorted and tilted his head. "Right." He scooted forward a little. "So, first thing's first, what's mudblood mean?" He must have missed out on one of Hermione's lectures – both Sam and Tucker knew the word.

Harper groaned while Pritchard looked terrified and Tracey's mouth twisted in disgust. "This is gonna take a while," the younger boy muttered.

Sam and Tucker had caught him before he turned to head down into the dungeons (a place he was ever so thrilled to go). Harper nodded and surreptitiously waited for him a safe distance away, i.e. a place where he couldn't hear Danny's conversation.

"Are you okay?" were the first words out of Danny's mouth.

Sam rolled her eyes while Tucker just frowned. "I'm fine Danny," she assured him. "Thanks for standing up for me." She smiled at him warmly, her cheeks slightly pink in the dim lighting of the torches.

Now it was Tucker who rolled his eyes. "You know I would have done the same thing," he said dryly. "You're just all mushy because –oof!"

Danny pretended not to notice Sam's elbow in Tuckers ribs. "I'm just saying it was a nice thing to do," she growled in a warning tone.

"Well, I'm keeping someone waiting –," Danny started apologetically.

"Same here," echoed his friends, equally apologetic. The three of them grinned suddenly and chuckled.

"Now that I've apparently established myself as a pariah," Danny added, "I've got to go make sure it stays that way."

Sam grinned. "That's my boy!" she crowed and started off in the opposite direction. "We'll meet up tomorrow; Hermione's gonna show us that library, and who knows – maybe we'll get more information on the Ghost Zone while we're at it."

Danny and Tucker winced at the fanatical gleam in her eyes. "Right," Tucker drawled. "I'll just go meet up with Terry – he's the only Ravenclaw I've gotten a chance to talk to, but thankfully I have better people skills than Danny."

Danny made a swipe at Tucker's hat – he had refused to remove it despite Professor McGonagall's insistence – and watched wistfully as the only slice of familiarity he knew left him.

"You ready?" came Harper's voice. "Slytherins don't exactly wait up for stragglers," he added. "You're lucky I know the password."

Danny turned to him and nodded. "Lead the way, oh wise guru," he said in a voice free of all sarcasm.

Harper groaned. "You are going to be so much trouble, I can tell," he muttered as the two of them left for the darkness ahead.

Chapter Text

Nighttime had settled in rather comfortably, stars glittering in the cloud free sky. The Forbidden Forest was stirring and growling with various animal noises, and it made the setting around Hogwarts more than unusual (if it wasn't odd enough already).

To Albus Dumbledore, this was a completely normal night. The only thing bothering him was an enigma from a surprising source.

Their atypical ally, Danny Phantom, had moved in well enough and was acting the guard very diligently – checking in with him about anything he found unusual. So far, it had been surprisingly quiet.

Obviously, this made Albus more than suspicious.

Fudge was almost telegraphing his political movements by now, and Dolores Umbridge came as no surprise to the wizened wizard. He only hoped Harry would fare better than he had been so far – an unlikely event, he thought.

It was true, however, that he had been avoiding the boy. An unexpectedly childish move on his part, he thought tiredly, but sadly necessary. The question that had haunted him since the day he heard of the Potter's demise rose to the surface once more.

Would he be able to tell him the truth?

"You wanted to speak to me Albus?" Severus spoke, his voice the usual temperature of liquid ice, breaking Albus' disturbed silence.

Albus turned to him and nodded, smiling. "Yes – you mentioned you had interesting news about young Daniel Fenton. I trust he is getting along with everything? Minerva mentioned he still had trouble controlling his magic."

Severus merely nodded. "In a manner," he said evasively. "I had purposely not said anything on this matter, since I wanted to investigate myself. But unfortunately, I have not concluded anything."

Albus had the vague feeling that Severus was frustrated. He said nothing.

"The boy…can Occlude. In fact," Severus continued, looking harshly out the window, "I believe he is the best Occlumens I have ever encountered. And since he seems to know nothing about Legilimency or Occlumency, I have not been able to gather how he seems to be so well trained."

Oh yes, Albus thought with a little amusement. Severus was most certainly frustrated. "I know," he said finally. "When we first met, I sensed it. His two friends as well – the three of them seem to be hiding something rather important. Although Miss Manson and Mr. Foley seem to have no Occlumental talent at all, there is a section of their minds which seems to be heavily – albeit chaotically – shielded."

Severus looked to him sharply. "Do you not find this disturbing?" he asked, his voice as close to incredulous as he could manage it. "Where could he have learned such talents – I was under the impression that he was muggleborn?"

Albus reviewed the boy's face in his mind and wondered where on earth he had seen it before. "All evidence suggests he is in fact muggleborn," he confirmed, though a single, lingering doubt rang through his head. "But it is possible he was adopted."

Severus took this as a reassuring bit of information. "It's still highly unusual," he said. "We will watch him closely." It wasn't a question, but with the way Severus wove his words, it acted as such.

Albus nodded, in confirmation as well as dismissal. Severus took the subtle hint and nodded back, adjourning himself.

When he sat down, Albus frowned deeply. Young Daniel was a very surprising enigma. He closed his eyes and searched his memory to find the boy's face – he was certain he had seen it somewhere before.

It bothered him, much later, when he realized exactly who Daniel Fenton resembled so closely.

Danny had taken a deep breath before following a very nervous Harper into the Slytherin common room.

He had been expecting some sort of ambush – but that was mostly his paranoia talking.

"Fenton," Harper muttered under his breath after he had spoken with a nearby Prefect. "You're with Nott, Zabini, and Vaisey. I'm in the room two doors down from you," he added, sounding as if he felt sorry for Danny. It wasn't the most comforting thought.

"Ah, you again," came a voice Danny recognized from earlier. "I promised you a chat, didn't I?"

Malfoy was smirking at him, and behind him stood two boys who looked like they could bend Dash into odd shapes. Danny looked directly at him and frowned slightly.

"Perhaps," the blonde continued, completely ignoring Harper with a disdain that made Danny's shoulder-angel bristle. "We have gotten off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself."

He held out a hand. Danny felt uneasy just looking at his eyes – they reminded him of Vlad Masters for some very disturbing reason. Feeling like he was handing himself over to a large man-eating creature, Danny took the hand gingerly, but firmly.

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Danny's brain skipped a beat, and he suddenly wondered where his owl was. He couldn't quite hide his surprise before quickly responding. "Danny Fenton."

"You looked as if you recognized me," Malfoy prodded with a smile that did not reach his eyes at all.

"I," Danny paused before raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly himself. "My owl's name is Draco."

For a moment, Malfoy looked like he was going to respond unfavorably (and loudly) to that comment, but he seemed to catch himself. "Fascinating," he said as if it were the farthest thing from it. "I should warn you that dealing with those outside our house can be…dangerous. Slytherins should stick together," he continued, his mouth twisting slightly. "Otherwise we can't help each other."

Danny felt the familiar formation of a crossroads; should he try to do a little extra snooping (as well as make his life a little easier in Slytherin), or should he try to stake it out on his own. Neither option was that appealing.

His thoughts drifted over to Sam, surprising him. Her solution to this dilemma was pretty easy to figure out.

Smiling slightly, Danny looked to Malfoy and his (for lack of a better word) goons. "I think I understand," Danny said carefully. "I'll try to watch my back from now on."

To anyone with ears, the dismissal was clear.

"If you are trying to prove a point," Malfoy whispered, "Then I must inform you how badly you are doing it."

"I don't know what you mean," Danny said smoothly. "I mean, it is important to watch your own back," he continued. "I'm sure you do it all the time."

And now, Danny thought with alarm , I'm moving directly onto the threats. What the heck is wrong with me?

If he were an animal, Danny thought Malfoy would have raised his hackles menacingly.

"Do watch yours," Malfoy snarled. "And whomever you care for – your friends and family could suffer for your insolence."

Danny's eyes flickered with an ire that seemed to startle Malfoy out of his anger. "If that's a threat I hear," Danny looked directly into Malfoy's mercurial eyes with a fierce royal blue. "I would take it back."

"Besides," Danny continued, his voice suddenly lighter and less menacing. "You couldn't find my family if you tried. They aren't in any wizarding records."

If anything, Malfoy looked even more shocked than before. "What?" he said, wide-eyed with disgust and amazement. "You…you're a mudblood?" he hissed.

The entire common room went silent at the word.

"Yeah, so?"

Malfoy looked torn between laughing derisively or looking shocked. "Impossible," he managed. "Slytherin only accepts purebloods or half-bloods." Even the word 'half-blood' sounded dirty coming out of his mouth.

"Well," Danny sounded mildly surprised. It was as if all the comments about him being in the wrong house suddenly made sense. Of course they asked – he was muggleborn in a haven for purebloods and half-bloods. "Then I guess someone was wrong."

Malfoy looked like he had just swallowed distasteful medicine. "You won't last long here, Fenton," he said, trying to regain his balance. "We'll tear you to shreds."

A little nervous, but doing his best not to show it, Danny bowed his head. "You're welcome to try," he said dryly.

Malfoy whirled around dramatically and left the scene, leaving Danny to an empty room. It took a second to realize that everyone had left with Malfoy.

"Come on," Harper said, his voice sounding dazed. Danny jumped a little – he had forgotten the younger boy was in the room with him. "I'll show you where you sleep."

Following Harper down the steps to the dorms, Danny could have sworn his little shoulder-devil was cackling in success. He felt like something had broken down when he had spoken to Malfoy, something similar to a dam breaking. Back at Casper, he wouldn't have bothered to defend himself – mainly because he wouldn't have cared. But Malfoy pushed buttons he didn't even know he had, and the minute blondie brought his friends and family into the discussion, Danny threw all caution to the four winds.

"Here," Harper said, avoiding looking at Danny directly. "I'll see you later."

And with that, the smaller boy left in a hurry. Danny blinked after his retreating form, and sighed. This was turning out to be a lot more difficult than he thought.

Danny entered the dark bedroom with trepidation, and almost immediately, he realized who he would and would not be getting along with.

The African-American boy reclining almost regally on his bed sent him a stare that left Danny feeling cold.

"My name is Blaise Zabini," the boy spoke, "and it would be best if we did not talk."

Danny had to admit it was the most polite brush-off he had ever experienced, and he nodded back. "Likewise," he agreed, and moved on.

When he turned his head to look at the next occupied bed, he was greeted with a much warmer welcome.

"You must be the transfer," the older boy said as he got off the bed. "I'm Ormand Vaisey – Chaser for the Slytherin team."

Danny nodded his head – vaguely knowing what that was – and pretended to understand. "Right. Danny Fenton."

It was, at best, forced indifference. Vaisey sounded like he wanted to speak to Danny further, but refrained under pressure. "You can take the bed next to Nott – all your stuff's there already."

Nott turned out to be Theodore Nott – and he was very, very quiet. The small, weedy looking boy stared at Danny for a moment before nodding a greeting and turning back to his book.

Danny simply sighed and methodically got ready for bed – he didn't want to unpack just yet, as some of his stuff was only a little suspicious. He didn't particularly want Zabini to see his ghost fighting arsenal.

He lay back on this bed and reveled in the sweet silence. Thoughts of Sam and Tucker drifted through his mind and he felt his heart sink. Here he was, not even that separated from them, and he felt miles away.

Maybe, he thought as he turned in his sheets , tomorrow will be better.

It had been a long and boring day.

The sun was bland, the sky was a murky white, and even the plants were faded in color. Nature was lethargic, if that was possible, and every person followed along.

Danny was staring out at the tree outside on the large green. It too, like him, looked vaguely ill and unresponsive. He scrunched up his face and put down his pumpkin juice.

"You feeling better?"

"No," he responded to his visitor. "But that's okay. I don't really need to feel fine."

"Still sulking then," Tucker concluded. "I suppose you're happy to just sit and be emo for the rest of your days." He sighed mockingly.

"I am not emo," Danny muttered, annoyed. He laid his head in his arms and stared at a bunch of Slytherin students while they wandered over to the lake, laughing about something. "I'm just upset."

"For a whole month?"

Danny just glared mulishly. It had been a month since he had exploded onto the scene in Slytherin – his 'chat' with Malfoy had made him ostracized almost immediately.

His first month in the snake nest had been made miserable by Malfoy and the rest of the house – mostly Malfoy, as being a prefect allowed for more public humiliation on Danny's behalf. They taunted him whenever they got the chance, although the presence of Snape silenced them somewhat. For Danny, anything was fair game; from his heritage ("Do you use a flint to make fire, or do you just eat your meat raw?" or "Is it true that Muggles just bash their mate on the head to shag?") to his apparent magical handicap ("See? Dirty blood makes dirty magic – you couldn't produce a Lumos without setting something on fire!"). Danny ignored them studiously – mainly because most of the insults were ridiculous, and he had been trained to ignore stupidity for most of his young life.

No one talked to him except Harper – and sometimes not even him. Due to being in different houses, Sam and Tucker barely got to see him – they met for lunch, and dinner, but they shared only a few classes together. Between all of these collective problems, Danny was mentally exhausted.

"If it's any consolation, you're not the only one," Tucker said cheerfully. "You should've seen Sam when I told her what happened."

"You told her?" Danny asked, eyes closed.

"Yeah," Tucker snickered. "She ranted to Hermione about it and now they're plotting."

Danny groaned aloud and slumped forward even more. "You shouldn't have told them."

"That blonde guy deserves it. You know, the one that looks like a weasel?"

He couldn't help it. The image of Malfoy merged with a rodent made him laugh weakly.

"Ahah!" Tucker crowed. "I win!"

Danny shook his head. "I hope they don't do anything. I mean, I need to figure out how to work this."

"What's there to work?" Tucker asked him, puzzled. "That guy has the whole house against you."

"Almost," Danny corrected smugly. "I've got … one person on my side," he added, less smugly. He sat up and rolled his shoulders. "If I can stake my claim in the House, they'll have to listen, or at least tolerate me." He chuckled to himself, thinking about how on earth he would be able to do it.

"Yeesh," Tucker muttered, shuddering. "That was an evil chuckle."

Danny smirked. "I know. I think I might have a plan."

"What's all this about plans?" asked a familiar voice.

Danny tilted his back and met the golden eyes of Harper who had his eyebrows raised. Behind him, Tracey Davis, Graham Pritchard, and two other girls Danny didn't recognize stood looking mildly anxious. Except the black haired girl in the back (one of the one's Danny didn't know); she was looking bored.

"Hey," he said, a little in shock from surprise.

"Don't sound so enthusiastic," Harper said in an amused tone. Tracey smiled and shook her head.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" the black-haired girl prodded verbally. The unknown red-head next to her gave her a look.

"Oh right," Harper said, as if he had forgotten. "This is Daphne Greengrass," he gestured to the raven haired girl who finally smiled and nodded. "And this is Mafalda Ghidora."

The red-head smiled solemnly and blushed prettily, making small freckles appear on her face. "Pleasure to meet you, Official Pariah of the Slytherin House," she said and smirked, as if trying to shake away her shyness.

Tucker burst into laughter and inadvertently drew all the attention to him.

"Uh," Danny started, a smile working its way onto his face as well. "It's nice to meet you too." He looked to Tucker and chuckled. "The dork that's laughing is Tucker Foley," he added, in attempt to get Tucker breathing again.

"Hey –," Tucker started before blinking. "Oh ha ha, Danny," he grumbled.

"A Ravenclaw?" said Harper almost laughing. "All you need is a Hufflepuff, and you'll have a complete set."

Everyone chuckled nervously at this. Apparently, Harper had moved from being nervous about their aquaintence-ish relationship, to full on sarcastic familiarity. Danny felt more comfortable with this attitude, as he dealt with Sam on a daily basis.

"What brought you all down here?" Danny asked, honestly curious, and a little angry. The entire group, sans Harper, had never spoken a word to him for most, if not all, of September. Tucker seemed to lean in and listen to their response – he was as interested as Danny was.

Now it seemed no one wanted to talk. It took a few seconds before Daphne Greengrass spoke up. "We wanted to meet you and talk to you," she grumbled. "Seeing as none of us really likes Malfoy, and more than one of us are half-blood, it puts us below the standard; no matter how smart, talented, and unique we actually are." She paused and let a small grin grace her normally serious features. "We think we could use you," she added blatantly. "To make sure everyone knows us by name, to make everyone recognize who we are."

The small group of mismatched Slytherins bowed their heads, as if this took a lot of pride to say – and they hadn't even spoken a word.

Danny was sitting very still and he blushed, coughing. "Uh, isn't that a little rash?" he asked nervously, his voice cracking. "I mean, you don't really know me, and –"

"We know well enough what you could help us with," Harper pitched. "Being recognized is important to us, and we know that most of the British Wizarding world 'knows' that Slytherin is a house full of evil people." He sounded only a little bitter. "If we could appeal – not blend – with those who think that, we could have less trouble."

"And we aren't all rich," Tracey said, snorting. "Some of us can't afford to buy a job, or reputation. Some of us have to work for it."

"It's really hard," Pritchard said quietly. "For the Slytherins who don't side with the ones we're supposed to." Tracey put a hand on the twelve year old boy's shoulder sympathetically.

It was a bit of a comfort to notice that Tuck looked just as stunned as Danny did.

"I…I don't know what to say," Danny finally managed, looking embarrassed, and a little lost. "I mean, it's like you're asking to be my friend."

"That," Daphne said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Is exactly what we're asking."

"Then I guess I should tell you that I don't require people to ask me to be my friends," Danny said, totally trying to keep a straight face. "You wanna be my friend? I'm honored. Simple as that; now we can move on."

The Slytherins glared at him without any real menace. "You are very American," Mafalda said, the glare lifting from her.

"And proud," Tucker interrupted. "Hey Danny, you have more than one now," he said snickering, referencing their previous conversation.

"Say," Harper started, desperately looking for a conversation starter. "Have any of you seen this new ghost?"

"The poltergeist?" Mafalda said, and then blushed a little bit. "I…not since the Start of Term Feast."

"Well I hope we get to see him again," Pritchard started up enthusiastically. "He's the only ghost we know near to nothing about – it'll be interesting to see what we can dig up."

Danny had never before been more thankful for making that deal with the other ghosts at the beginning of the year. Otherwise he would probably be more nervous. He was also a bit surprised at Pritchard's zeal for uncovering information. It had never occurred to him before, but Danny suddenly realized that Pritchard was young – well, to be hanging out with kids who were at least two to three years older than him. Pritchard had always acted like he was already 14 or 15, so Danny had hardly noticed the age difference.

Danny frowned and stowed those thoughts away for later.

"No one's seen him, not even Filch!" Daphne said impatiently. "Are we even sure he's real?"

"Pretty sure he is," Tucker said lazily. "After all, he came from our home town."

Danny stared at his friend pointedly and Tucker gulped, amending his words: "But it's not like we get to see him often either."

"He's from America?" Mafalda rushed.

"Why on earth is he here?" asked Daphne, her eyes narrowed. "That's the more pressing issue."

"It is a bit odd – I don't know why no one else is talking about it," Harper added.

"Maybe it's a case of 'out of sight, out of mind,'" said Tracey thoughtfully. "But I too found that a bit odd. You think Dumbledore's using him for information?"

"I've thought Dumbledore many things," Daphne said snootily, "But not desperate."

"He's probably a lot of things you haven't thought," Danny suggested, not so kindly. It was always a bit grating to here himself being talked about while he was in the vicinity, and he found his temper starting to run short.

Daphne gave him an offended look, but Tracey just laughed. "He's right and true, Daphne," she told her.

"In any case," Daphne huffed, a little embarrassed. "Don't we have classes to be getting to?"

The group dispersed and Danny waved Tucker goodbye – the technogeek had been working on a laptop that seemed to work, even within Hogwarts. He had mentioned how he had no clue what he was doing, but all the technology he messed with seemed to work despite the 'No-Tech' rule. Danny wanted to read his e-mail, as it was the only way he corresponded with Danni (and Valerie, thought he wouldn't admit that to Sam), so this was good news.

Danny smiled as he walked ahead of the group. Things were starting to look up, at last.

Sam came running to him in the library, where he was taking out a book on advanced potions. Surprisingly enough, no matter how menacing Snape managed to be, he let him enter the restricted section whenever he asked. For some odd reason, the dark robed professor made it feel like a privilege.

"Hey Danny," she greeted breathlessly as she sat herself next to him. "There's this thing going on that I want to go to, just to check it out."

"What thing?" he asked.

"It's going to be next Hogsmeade weekend, but I heard about the meeting last night from Hermione, and I've already told Tucker." Sam leaned closer. "It's … kind of a Defense against the Dark Arts Club that Hermione convinced Harry to head up."

Danny looked to her in surprise. He had been worried for Sam, honestly. Back at Casper, where being jock was about as good as being royalty, Sam had been ostracized by everyone except Danny and Tucker, whom she had met at the beginning of eighth grade. At Hogwarts, she was making good friends with all sorts within her house, and Danny was truly happy to see her smile more often than she did back home.

"You want me to come?" he whispered. "Me? Or…"

"Go as yourself Danny," she said, her attempts to smother a giggle obvious. "I want to hear what Harry's done, unfiltered." She grinned at him. "Plus, I want to be as undermining as possible with Prof. Umbridge in charge – she's such a bi—,"

"Right, right," Danny said quickly. He remembered hearing about the infamous first Defense Against the Dark Arts class of the year – Sam and Harry had gotten into a loud argument with their new professor, Dolores Umbridge. The woman made Danny's skin crawl just by looking at her. "I'll go."

Later, he informed his new friends in Slytherin, and they all looked highly interested. Daphne had practically exploded with happiness – and in doing so, she attracted curiosity. They weren't as enveloped in their studies as Daphne was, but seeing how she had no fear in going to what would most likely be an anti-Slytherin meeting, they said yes. Mostly, they all wanted to be the best in Defense, and if that meant being taught by someone they didn't necessarily like, so be it. Danny felt proud, and he said so – earning him a smack on the shoulder from Harper.

Thankfully, Dumbledore had requested their parents' permission slips early on, before they even got to Hogwarts. Danny hadn't known what Hogsmeade was until Sam went and did a little research. Her permission slip had come back signed, surprisingly, as well. Unfortunately, Sam never found out who, in fact, had given her permission.

The Hogshead was dark and dreary, and it reminded Danny of a hovel, really. But he wasn't one to complain, especially since both his best friends were excited…and they looked rebellious; Danny recognized the expressions on their faces from the last time they got riled up and protestant.

Daphne, Tracey, Harper, Pritchard, and Mafalda had also snuck in behind Danny. They looked like they were ready to be attacked, and Danny couldn't really blame them. After the first month, it didn't take a genius to figure out how badly the 'Dark' house was discriminated against.

There were a large number of people huddling inside already, and they spotted Hermione immediately, waving to her. She smiled nervously and waved back. Danny noticed Harry was looking slightly dumbfounded. The guy probably didn't expect to see so many of his school mates in attendance.

Maybe it was because so many were from a house other than Gryffindor.

"Er," Hermione began in a high-pitched voice that rang with anxiety. "Well, er, hi." The attention of the group focused on her.

Danny watched as he noticed Tucker, who couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "Hello Hermione!" Tuck called back with a smarmy grin. Well, thought Danny, it couldn't hurt to be supportive.

Sam laughed lightly and waved, with Danny mimicking her.

The tension in the room relaxed a bit, a few chuckling at the outburst, and others just starting to get the feeling that maybe this meeting wouldn't be as bad as they thought. The other half of the group (that included most everyone plus a few more Gryffindors that looked familiar) glared at the small group of Slytherins, as if they weren't supposed to be there.

Hermione visibly loosened up. "Hello Tucker," she responded, her voice almost exasperated. She looked back to the group. "Well, you all know why you're here…" she began.

Hermione went on, her tone carrying more strength, and soon the reason for being here became clear. She and her friends had decided that Umbridge's lessons weren't helping in the slightest, which, thankfully, was an obvious fact to everyone present. Hermione was proposing a club which dedicated itself to both the theory and practice of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Danny whole-heartedly supported the idea, and Sam was brimming over with excitement. Tucker was inputting information into his PDA with fervor.

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L too though, I bet?" a Ravenclaw boy Danny didn't quite recognize asked Hermione.

"Of course I do," she responded immediately. "But I want more that that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because…because…" she took a deep, calming breath. "Because Lord Voldemort's back."

There was a great collective gasp and subsequent shudder that ran through the group, like ripples in a pound, as a few people spilled their drinks. Danny and his friends stood still.

Slowly, the crowd turned to look at Harry; Danny's sympathies were with him– he had a feeling he knew what Hermione probably asked him to do. There was a boy from Hufflepuff, a Zacharias Smith, who was doing a good job of playing the Devil's Advocate. Danny grinned as Harry stopped Hermione from making a diplomatic intervention.

Then the interesting talks began.

Harry had been through quite a lot, it seemed. Danny was impressed, hearing about a dragon and Voldemort many times in the Gryffindor's half-speech. Once more Danny felt a strange familiarity with Harry; they had a lot of life-threatening experiences…but Harry had been dealing with such things since the first year of his life. Danny, although his condition had only been around for about two years now, had an intense list of vengeful ghostly encounters, which included fighting an evil version of himself and saving his friends and family from certain death. Personally, he thought things evened out.

He hadn't heard of this Triwizard Tournament, but from Harry's tense voice, he figured it was a sore subject. It sounded like someone had actually died because of it, and when Danny turned his head, Sam caught his eye – they both shuddered imperceptibly and then went back to listening.

Danny's ears perked up when he heard that Harry could also produce a corporeal Patronus. He also blinked in surprise when he found out how rare it was for someone to do it at their age. He gulped nervously and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam smiling proudly.

It made him feel a little better.

"And what are those Slytherins doing here?" interrupted someone in a loud voice.

Before he knew it, Danny noticed that all eyes were on them. Harry and the red-headed boy next to him exchanged surprised looks with each other and then glanced suspiciously in their direction. Sam, Tucker, and Hermione bristled indignantly, but it was Hermione who spoke up.

"I'll have you know that some of 'those Slytherins' are good friends of mine," she said in a cold unloving voice. Danny knew she was embellishing, but it was nice to hear that she had faith in his ability to pick his friends. "If you have any complaints to make about them simply because they're in a different house, I suggest you make them with the Sorting Hat."

The loud voiced boy had quieted, mostly because of Hermione's animosity. Danny felt warmth in his cheeks, and the Slytherins looked positively stunned. They hadn't expected anyone to stick up for them.

"Plus," Hermione continued with a small smirk. "If any of you don't mind getting your hands dirty, I know for a fact that this particular Slytherin," she pointed at Danny, "knows a bit about muggle fighting styles."

Danny looked positively mortified: Hermione has asked him about his mom when they first met, and the conversation had traversed onto how Maddie Fenton was an accomplished black belt. He let slip that he had learned a little, and Hermione was ecstatic. He couldn't believe she still remembered.

"He'll probably be able to teach us how to defend ourselves if we don't have our wands." She gave him a pleading look. "That is, if he wants to stay."

"Of course he wants to stay," Sam exclaimed for him as Danny fought down his own embarrassment, Tucker patting him on the back in sympathy. "I mean, anyone who's anyone knows that Voldemort is back in action…we have a right to be prepared!"

There was a stunned silence.

Sam merely nodded a look of serious contemplation on her face. "Yup," she said before frowning. "What? Look, it's just a name, right? There's no fear in a name!" she yelled exuberantly.

There was a jumbled chorus of voices that shouted things like, 'Hear hear!' and 'She's right!' Sam looked ready to break down walls, and Danny smiled.

"It's true you know," Harry said quietly (well, quietly compared to the ruckus in the audience). "There is no fear in a name."

Danny watched Hermione put a comforting hand on his arm before turning smartly to face the crowd. She clapped her hands once and things settled down.

Soon after, they signed the list that Hermione had whipped up, and discussed where such meetings might take place. In the end, they didn't settle on any particular place, but Hermione assured that if they did think of one, they would let everyone know.

He waved goodbye to his collective friends as they parted for Hogsmeade. Sam was talking to Daphne about something Goth-like, which somehow didn't surprise him. Tucker was chatting with Pritchard, explaining some of the more advanced muggle technology as Tracey listened in, an interested expression present on her face. Harper and Mafalda both nodded to him as he left, but he noticed Harper's look of apprehension. Maybe the meeting was a bit overwhelming – there was a lot to be nervous about.

In any case, Danny snuck off and went ghost behind the statue of Mathilda the Haggardly, which stood outside Hogwarts' massive gates. Invisible, he went off to do his routine 'before dinner' patrol.

When he was swerving in and out of the seats of the Quidditch pitch, his thoughts drifted back to the sport that was played here. He had heard Hermione mention the sport vaguely – she was obviously not a big fan.

He floated just around the corner of the Quidditch pitch when he heard the tail end of a conversation.

"… the new ghost?"

Danny's attention was grasped and pulled back as he overheard the voices.

"Yeah," another voice responded. "You know, even though Dumbledore said he was a poltergeist, he doesn't seem very evil."

"Well, you know he's powerful, even if we haven't seen him since the Start of Term Feast; you could see his skin color, his eye color—he can successfully manifest!"

"If anything, he's probably evil – no ghost I know can make itself manifest without having serious past-life issues."

Danny, curiosity fully piqued now, went invisible and flew toward the voices. Evil, eh? Maybe he needed to do more research on what the wizarding world knew about ghosts….

As he searched, he found the voices situated just on the other side of the Quidditch pitch, closest to the castle. He was surprised to find Hermione with her two friends chatting quietly about him.

"I met him in Grimmauld," Danny recognized Harry Potter's voice. "I don't think he's all that bad either."

"He's not evil; Dumbledore wouldn't allow him near Hogwarts if he didn't have good intentions," the bushy haired girl insisted.

"Um, two things: the dementors, and Barty Crouch Jr." Harry said frowning.

"…." Hermione flushed. "Those were isolated incidents!"

"Let's not forget Voldemort either," Harry continued blandly. "He was here too, if I remember correctly. Twice, if you count the diary."

Hermione looked pained. "Look forget I said that, alright? The important thing to note is that this ghost is not evil."

"You don't think he's dangerous?" came the red-headed boy's incredulous voice.

"He's not evil ," Hermione reiterated. "But dangerous is different from malevolent."

Harry seemed to ponder that for a moment before speaking. "Ron, he's in the Order now," he said very quietly. "I don't think they would entrust the Order with a spy or something that was too dangerous to handle." He seemed very reluctant while saying this.

Danny felt slightly offended. He was totally dangerous!

"Besides, Dumbledore introduced him as a poltergeist – they're a different kind of spirit altogether," Hermione added.

"What's the difference?" asked Harry. Ron was just nodding his head as if he already knew.

"Poltergeists are creatures of mischief and destruction. They are malevolent at heart, and require a spirit who died bearing a grudge or some sort. They range from being pranksters, all the way to violent, vengeful spirits – highly dangerous."

"See?" Ron countered. "You just said he was dangerous!"

Hermione sighed with barely hidden exasperation. "I was going to go on to say that Danny Phantom doesn't seem to fit either the description of a ghost or a poltergeist, which leads to me to wonder if he is a spirit at all."

Danny watched with astonishment. He hadn't really known how quick Hermione was until this very moment – most people didn't get further than "Ah! Ghost!" She seemed to dissect him like an expert surgeon, with an exceptionally sharp knife.

"What could he be then?" asked Harry in curious voice. There was a rustling and Danny watched him pull out a ragged piece of parchment. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry whispered, tapping his wand against the paper.

Danny couldn't see what happened but Harry soon said, "Look, he doesn't appear on the Map," he said, and Danny could tell that the 'm' was capitalized. "All the other ghosts do, even Peeves!"

"This only makes him more suspicious, in my opinion," said Ron decisively.

"Well we won't know until we run into him again," Hermione said, just as decisively. "And I would prefer that we don't assume anything until we do."

"And did you really know all those Slytherins at the meeting?" asked Ron angrily, changing the topic to suit him a little better. "You could have at least told us."

"I know Danny – and he happens to be a very good judge in character," Hermione said in her own defense. "Besides, didn't you hear about him and Malfoy?"

Both boys sat up straighter and looked curious. "What about him and Malfoy?" asked Harry, looking a little anxious.

Hermione smiled a little smug smile. "You'll just have to find out for yourselves then. Danny's a whole different brand of Slytherin, and you'll know it when you actually take the time to talk to him. I'm planning to partner with him for next double Potions, if Sam will oblige." She looked thoughtfully upwards and 'hmmed' to herself.

The two looked dumbstruck. "Wha -? Are you serious?" exclaimed Ron.

"As I said, you'll find out for yourselves," Hermione repeated as the trio started moving up towards the castle. "Maybe sooner rather than later."

Danny, hiding in the shadows and cloaked in his invisibility, smiled to himself, not a little proud.

As the three left the pitch, Danny swiftly flew into the castle. He still preferred to stay invisible no matter what he was doing, as having white hair and glowing eyes was a bit of an inconvenience when you were trying to be inconspicuous.

It seemed that he needed to do some serious research involving the wizarding definitions of ghost and 'poltergeist' – which was a term Danny had, of course, heard. However, he had never heard it used as a different definition before.

Speaking of poltergeists…he had to admit that it felt weird not fighting any of his old enemies, especially Vlad. Not that it was curse of the highest degree or anything; Danny just felt it was oddly relaxing here.

For some reason, he knew that he was going to soon be proven wrong somehow; Murphy's Law would soon be at work once again, as per usual for Danny.

Finding the nearest statue that was out of the way of anyone's line of sight, he transformed back into his human half and quickly made his hair look mildly more presentable. High speed winds really played havoc with his already messy, spiky hair.

"Danny!" cried a relieved voice.

He almost phased through a nearby suit of armor in surprise. "Hermione!" he said, breathless. "You startled me!"

"Oh I'm sorry," she said smiling. "I just wanted to thank you, Sam, and Tucker for coming today."

"Not a problem," he said grinning. It had been a while since he and Hermione had actually talked. No doubt, Ron the red-head – who seemed to have a very pointed view of the Slytherin house (a crime for which Danny thought he understood pretty well) – would have prevented it.

"I was surprised to see so many Slytherins," she said, her voice a little suspicious. "They were with you, right?"

"Oh yeah!" Danny laughed. "You didn't get to meet them, but they're all okay."

"Good, I thought so." Hermione looked at him proudly. "You seem to be getting along alright," she added. "Are you?"

There was a bit of silence before Danny coughed nervously. "You heard about it, didn't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," Hermione smiled warmly at him. "And I think it was very brave of you. I haven't told Harry or Ron yet, mainly because I want them to find out for themselves. They can be so narrow minded sometimes," she huffed, brushing back her bushy hair.

"Malfoy's a git," he said experimentally. British slang was so weird . "And it felt good to vent a little. Everyone in Slytherin is so repressed." Oh yeah, and he wasn't.

Hermione giggled a little. "Sorry," she managed once she got her voice back. "Your accent –"

"I know, I suck," Danny confirmed cheerfully. "Were you on your way to the Great Hall?"

"Yes, I was going to meet everyone for dinner. Did you enjoy Hogsmeade?"

They started walking together down the long hallway. "I didn't stay for long," Danny said a little too honestly. "Uh, I mean," he paused. "Well, I had stuff to do," he finished, knowing his excuse was pretty lame.

"Oh?" was Hermione's only response. Danny had a feeling he hadn't fooled her for a second, and it made his insides squirm. "Well, the next trip should prove more entertaining, I hope," she said.

Her voice was a little frosty and Danny laughed nervously. "I'm pretty sure it will be – my owl was just a little sick, so I visited," he lied. Then he stopped and grimaced. "Now I sort of regret naming him Draco."

Hermione looked at him, once more with laughter in her eyes. "Don't regret it," she said. "He has a much nicer personality than Malfoy." Somehow, she managed to rhyme 'Malfoy' with the word 'scum.'

The two of them chuckled and entered the boisterous Great Hall, waving to each other as they parted ways.

Danny, with his back turned to face the Slytherin table, didn't notice Ron Weasley's angry glance; nor did he pay any mind to Harry Potter's curious stare.

As Danny and his new acquaintances ate at the very edge of the Slytherin table, Draco the owl swooped down and landed a large package right in front of him; it contained a few letters as well as a box.

"Hey there," he said in surprise as he scratched behind the owl's ears. He quickly fed it a bit of the chicken they were having for dinner and Draco nibbled his fingers in affection before flying off.

"Why did your post arrive so late?" asked Tracey in confusion.

"What was that?" asked Sam and Tucker from behind Danny, which made him jump a little.

"It's my mail," he said, slightly puzzled. "And I think it arrived so late because of the time difference," he mused, unwrapping the cardboard box.

Sam and Tuck leaned over him while Harper and other leaned toward him to see what he had received. "Uh, a little space guys," he said, waving a hand.

"Wait," Sam said. She reached over and plucked a small envelope out from the pile. "This is from my dad!" She looked ill at the prospect of reading it.

"At least it's not a howler," Pritchard muttered mutinously.

Before Danny could ask what on earth a howler was, Sam shrieked very, very quietly.

"What is it?" asked Tucker urgently, looking terrified. Their friend was clutching the letter in her hand like it was a life-line of some sort. A small slip of paper fell from the envelope and Danny caught it swiftly.

Looking at it, Danny's eyes widened comically and he stared at Sam. "Uh, Sam?"

"He," she stopped and swallowed. "He says that he knows that I never did anything wrong, and that he's…he's sorry." Her eyes were bright and Danny's heart clenched a little in sympathy. "He says that mom's still angry, but he'll do whatever he can to help. He even said he enclosed a gift."

Danny looked down at the check in his hand. "Uh, Sam – you should look at this."

Tucker, Sam, and Danny huddled and stared at the $10,000 dollar check in his hand.

Sam paled significantly as Tucker sat down heavily. "Oh god," she muttered. "Oh he can't do this."

After a moment of silence, which confused his Slytherin friends, Danny spoke to Sam quietly. "Are you going to write back?"

"Not yet," she said, equally quiet. She stuffed the letter and the check in her robes and barely smiled to Danny and Tucker. "I need to figure out what I want to say."

And with that, the topic turned to the remaining letters and packages.

"There's one from my mom and dad," Danny said, just a little embarrassed.

"Well open it!"

Dear Danny;

Oh we are so proud of you! Off on your own for the first time, and learning magic! You have no idea how the knowledge of such energy has helped our research in the past month – your father has made something for you as well, he included it in a separate package.

Well a lot of kids in school asked about you three, if you're interested. As well as Vlad Masters! He asked about you first, I believe, before anyone else – I told him to give whatever he wanted to send you to me first, and I think he was just confused at our avoidance of the subject. But it turns out that the real reason he was up in Amity was to run for mayor! He's in as a last-minute candidate, and your Father is ecstatic. Personally, I'm not so sure. His behavior towards me has been inconsistent and…just a little creepy. Jazz wholeheartedly agrees with me on this, and she said you'd say the same thing. Would you Danny?

In any case, there's a very good chance he might win the primary, and I'm prepared for the worst.

Well! I've rambled on for far too long. I have enclosed a small gift for you as well, so don't forget to search the bottom of the bag.

And don't forget to write! We take good care of that beautiful black and white Eagle owl – ooh, is it yours? Even if it wasn't, we'd pamper it.

Jazz put in a private letter – and I have to run. Your father has set some of the furniture on fire again.

Write to us soon!

Love,

Mom & Dad

Danny's cheeks were a bright flaming red. "Great," he said, partially disgusted, and partially embarrassed (if not a little pleased about hearing from his parents). "Vlad's running for mayor."

"What?" Sam cried in alarm, seemingly coming out of her coma.

"For real?" asked Tucker at almost exactly the same time, and pitch.

"Completely," he said, now depressed.

"Wait, what?" Harper butted in forcefully. "Who's Vlad? And why do you look like someone just died?"

"Because it feels like a part of American democracy just curled up and died!" Sam looked incredibly furious. "Does Vlad just think he can jump in and 'secure' himself a vote?"

"In all honesty, I'm surprised he hasn't done it before," Danny said, his lips twisting into a grimace. "And Vlad Masters is just this old college 'buddy' who also happens to have a crush on my mom."

Harper, Daphne, and all the Slytherins sitting with him leaned back and mimicked disgusted expressions. "Awkward," Tracey muttered.

"He also happens to be wealthier than anyone I know – er, knew."

"I know that name from somewhere," Theodore Nott cut in, speaking with his usual tone of neutrality. "Isn't he famous in America for corporate takeovers?"

Danny looked to him in ill-hidden surprise. This was the first time Nott had spoken to him since they first met in their collective dorm room. Wondering how on earth Nott would know the obviously muggle Vlad Masters (and not really liking the implications), Danny did a cautious head-bob.

"I didn't think you would know anyone rich and famous," Nott said, mild surprise in his voice. "That's impressive."

"Thanks," said Danny, all sarcasm. "I really enjoy the fact that I know a rich guy, who also happens to be as creepy as those slug-like things were poking in Care for Magical Creatures last week."

"Flobberworms," Daphne corrected him automatically.

Danny sent her a look that distinctly said: Whatever .

"Well, being rich usually means being eccentric, somehow," Tracey added her two cents.

"'Eccentric' isn't the word I'd use."

"It's usually unwise to unabashedly claim dislike for someone else who also happens to be very powerful," Nott said in a quiet voice, gathering his things. "That sort of thing could be troublesome."

"You're probably right," Danny responded brazenly.

Nott looked at him for a long moment, as if studying him, and then left the table. As per usual, he looked as if the previous conversation had never taken place.

"That's pretty talkative for him," Daphne noted, her eyes glued to the boy's back.

Sam and Tucker nudged Danny at the same time. "Aren't you going to find out what your parents sent you?" Tuck asked eagerly.

Danny smiled and hid Jazz's unread letter in his pocket. "Sure," he said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny noticed how a lot of the chatter down the Slytherin table had ceased quite a while ago. He snorted inwardly and wondered how a house known for its subtlety could be so obvious.

Out of the small box came a metal bracelet, thick and strong. Its center was a green control panel with a dial on it. A small tag on it proclaimed that it was a shrunken version of the Specter Deflector from back home. Danny picked it up gingerly and grimaced. Thankfully, it wasn't turned on.

"What is this thing supposed to do?" asked Daphne as she snatched it from Danny's hands. She pressed one of the buttons, and it came to life, lighting up a bright green color.

Danny swallowed uneasily. "That would be the Specter Deflector – it repels ectoplasmic creatures and anything with ectoplasm in it."

Now he knew the other Slytherins down the table were listening. All whispering had ceased when he mentioned the bracelet by name.

Daphne looked highly interested. "Are you sure you're muggleborn?" she asked him jokingly. One of her rare smiles graced her lips and she gave him an impressed glance.

After it was passed around, she handed it back to Danny. Sam snatched it from her before it reached his fingertips, a bit of urgency showing through as she did. "He shrunk it down even further than the belt – this could come in handy."

Danny immediately averted his attention to the box, searching for the gift his mom sent him. Digging around a bit, he took out a small black-stoned ring; it had an engraving of an unfamiliar family crest, and an embellishment of a snake around the edge of the gold band. Frowning in surprise, he held it inside his palm, not wanting the others to see it, and picked out a tiny sticky note.

Danny;

This is a ring I had inherited from my father before me, and beyond. It is very old, and for some reason, I felt it should belong to you. Take care of it, and good luck with school! Don't slack off!

Love,

Mom

Danny blinked and slid the small, clumsily made trinket into his pocket; an odd gift from his mom, no doubt, but hardly unsurprising. He smiled warmly and shook his head.

Despite everything that was odd about his family, he couldn't imagine life without them.

Danny had convinced Harper and Mafalda to join him in the library with Hermione, Sam, and Tucker. Hermione couldn't get Harry and Ron to join them, due to Quidditch or something, so she came alone, if only to examine the Specter Deflector wristlet. Danny was happy to let her carry it, as it only would zap him in painful ways now that it was activated.

It was on their way back that Peeves the Poltergeist made his presence known.

Danny hiccupped and saw a small mist of air escape his mouth. He clapped a hand over it and groaned.

"Fenton?" asked Harper curiously. "You alright?"

"Oh yeah," he muttered. "I'm swell." He caught Sam and Tucker's worried eyes' and nodded imperceptibly. That hadn't happened for quite a while, and it was for a reason Danny hadn't realized until he started at Hogwarts. For some reason, his ghost sense was sensitive enough to detect the distinctive 'ecto-trail' a ghost (or poltergeist) leaves behind. Since he had familiarized himself with most of the ghosts (and they didn't go in and out of the Ghost Zone, which meant their 'ecto-trails' didn't change), his ghost sense barely went off anymore.

"Ooh, look! It's the new mostly-ghost!" cried a wickedly cheerful voice above Danny's head.

A short, funny looking little man twirled in the air. He was colorful, and Danny immediately recognized that this spirit wasn't a ghost – he was a poltergeist. The first one he had ever encountered at Hogwarts, truthfully.

Danny's breath hitched and he choked silently, panic rising in his heart.

"Peeves," Harper snapped, "Get out of here, eh? You're talking nonsense again." Danny blinked. So this was Peeves? That was the name the Bloody Baron had mentioned at the Start of Term Feast.

Peeves cackled. "Harper, poor Harper, always so loony," he sang mockingly. "It isn't so hard, when one is so moony!"

Harper paled and glared angrily, which made Danny stare at him in confusion. "Bugger off, you creepy little sod!" the younger boy yelled.

Mafalda and Hermione looked thoughtful, but Peeves turned his attention toward Danny once more. "Ickle Dannykins is far away from home, eh?" he giggled as he twirled a few feet closer to Danny.

A wave of pure dread swept through Danny like a tsunami, and in a desperate attempt to get the creep to shut up, he swiped at him.

To everyone's eternal surprise, he caught him with one fist, tightly clenched against Peeves' multi-colored ensemble.

For a moment, Danny didn't know what to do. Then he growled and pulled the poltergeist's squirming form closer to him. "Listen to me, and listen good," he whispered, his voice menacing. "If you breathe so much as a word about who or what I really am, to anyone , I will end you. You got it?"

Peeves froze within Danny's superhuman grip. The little spirit looked up at Danny's now glowing eyes and squeaked, nodding quickly.

Danny let go and Peeves winked out of existence faster than anyone could blink.

"What was that?" asked Hermione in a shocked voice.

"He looked pretty shocked to be grabbed like that," Sam interjected loudly, trying to steer the conversation.

"Oh yeah," laughed Tucker, also mimicking Sam. "He looked dead surprised! No pun intended," he amended amidst a few groans, and a nervous chuckle from Danny (whose eyes had subsided to their normal deep blue).

All those besides the three friends from Amity looked suspicious, but they dropped the subject as Tucker waved to them, leaving for his dormitory. Sam and Hermione waved goodbye soon after. The Goth girl winked at Danny, letting him know that she'd handle the damage control that would surely occur.

"How'd he know you?" asked Mafalda after only the Slytherins were left, her brown eyes inquisitive.

"I'm not sure," he answered honestly.

"How did you grab him like that?" Harper asked next.

Danny shrugged. "Maybe I was quicker than he was."

His evasive manner didn't go unnoticed, and the two frowned, although Harper looked as he might drop the subject.

"Well I know Filch would kill to be able to move as fast as you," the golden-eyed boy said cheerfully. "That miserable old bum would love to catch Peeves."

"Him and everyone else in the school," Mafalda noted wisely. "Although I've never seen Peeves look so scared."

"Maybe," Danny said loudly, as if to forcefully drop the subject. "He wasn't used to being on equal terms with someone."

He knew right after he said it, that he shouldn't have – it was more revealing than he had wanted. Harper and Mafalda quieted and the three walked on without saying another word.

Until Harper straightened, stopping in the middle of the hallway. "Danny, that was an excellent catch!" he exclaimed, as if just realizing this fact himself.

"Uh, thanks?" Danny said in return, puzzled. Mafalda sighed as if she might've known where the following conversation would proceed.

"You should try for Quidditch," the boy insisted. "Blimey, if you're good enough, they might make you a full-fledged player, not just reserve!"

"Um," Danny said masterfully. "Quidditch?" he asked, as if the idea was laughable at best. "Isn't Malfoy on the team? And another thing, I have no idea how to fly on a broom."

"Well you could try for Chaser instead of Seeker," Harper amended, completely ignoring Danny's comment about the whole broom business. "But still!"

"I would prefer Danny alive and well and not some dark spot on the pitch," Mafalda said. "I have enough cousins who play Quidditch, and I've heard stories."

"You don't fly, Ghidora," Harper countered. "Danny looks like excellent Seeker material. He's not that tall, skinny, and can catch the uncatchable – he's perfect!"

"Hey!"

"Look," Mafalda started before Harper waved her off.

"He can decide to or not – I'm going to try out this weekend, no matter what Malfoy and the rest of the house thinks."

Danny did not like the idea of Harper being cornered by what he liked to call Malfoy and his Merry Band of Cave Men – so he sighed, smacked a hand to his face, and muttered, "I'll come with you."

"What did you say?" Harper asked innocently.

"I said," Danny repeated. "I'll come with you. But you better teach me how to fly on one of those things, or when I fall (and I will fall), I'll break your neck."

"You're too nice Danny," Mafalda said tiredly as Harper patted Danny's back enthusiastically.

"It's the next weekend," Harper informed him. "I'm glad for that now – we can teach you the wonders of Quidditch!"

Danny wasn't sure if he was looking forward to it, but there was flying involved, so it couldn't be all that bad.

It was very late at night when Danny slipped into his bed. He lit a small candle with his wand and smiled when the spell worked.

The night's rounds were boring, but he did get in some great speeds high above the castle. He had also found the Gryffindor dorm entrance by accident – he fell through the painting which guarded the passage way. Luckily, he was invisible, so the large lady of the painting didn't notice his unintentional intrusion.

It was amusing to watch Sam and Hermione chat without being seen. And he admired his surroundings; they felt much warmer than the Slytherin dungeons.

Now he was back, and he looked over Jazz's letter. It had been well hidden amongst his belongings, and he was happy to see it hadn't been ripped open.

Hey Danny!

How's school going so far? Are they treating you aright? I don't want you coming home with a severe case of social anxiety – then I'D have to deal with it.

I wanted to tell you about Vlad. Ooh, I just KNOW he's going to swing the vote by overshadowing everyone! It makes me so mad that I can't do anything 'big' to stop him (that's your job), but I do my best.

Are Sam and Tucker alright as well? Ah, I just have too many questions for you – but I'm sure you'll answer them when you finally mail, or should I say, owl us. We all want to hear from you!

I also wanted to warn you – not many ghosts have been showing up lately (just the Box Ghost, but he doesn't count). I have a suspicion that Vlad has put out some sort of warrant or reward for your capture, and I want you to be careful! I'm skeptical that anyone will find you, but Vlad's pretty clever. And there's an abundance of natural Ghost Portals in your surrounding area (I've been doing some research on leylines and how they sometimes concentrate in one area, turning it into a portal that can send someone anywhere…or any when). Just…be careful little brother!

And send me a gift! Remember your big sister loves you!

With Love,

Jazz

Danny set the letter aside and fell backwards onto his pillow with a thud.

If he said he didn't need anymore to worry about at the moment, he would have been understating the matter completely. A warrant or reward for his capture? That sounds vaguely familiar , he thought dryly.

Even as he tried to will his brain to sleep, an irritated frown graced his features.

I really hate Vlad , Danny thought as he slipped into darkness.

Chapter Text

Dear Mom and Dad AND Jazz;

I have no gifts yet for anyone, and the owl is mine. In case anyone was wondering about those things…well, now you know.

School's been the usual grind so far – nothing interesting except for Sam and Tucker's antics; though I have made a few friends. More like allies, really. My housemates don't like me that much, I think.

In a way it's just like school back home. Except less football and more Quidditch (mom and dad, please ask Jazz what this is because I'm sure she already knows by now, and I really don't feel like explaining).

So Vlad is running for mayor. That sounds fantastic. And mom? Listen to Jazz.

Also – you know how Lupin talked about that Voldemort guy? Yeah, everyone's really scared because of him – and I suppose me and Sam and Tucker haven't felt the fear because we're sort of new to this world. I keep track of what's going on in the newspapers, but a friend tells me they're sort of…not reliable. So it's hard to really know what's happening.

In any case, we have weird stuff happening here at school too (as if a magic school could ever be normal). One of our professors was sent by the Ministry (the magical world's version of our government) to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. She's pretty by the book, and keeps denying that Voldemort is back (like what Lupin said). I can't help but feel she's lying. Maybe it's because Lupin seems more sincere.

In any case, everything's fine. Nothing to worry about – just grades.

Take care of the ghosts while I'm gone! I miss the familiar craziness of Amity Park everyday.

Danny

P.S. I like the ring – put it on a chain around my neck to keep it safe; you said it was an heirloom, so I thought it'd be better if I wore it. I just don't like big rings, so I won't wear it on my fingers. And thanks dad, for the 'bracelet' – it got a lot of interesting looks.

The first DA meeting had gone surprisingly well.

Danny and his accompanying Slytherins had been very impressed with the way everything had been organized. Daphne Greengrass had gone out of her way to acknowledge Hermione Granger – though it looked like she took great pains to do so – in her discovery of the Room. Hermione had simply smiled and nodded in Harry's direction. The boy looked mildly embarrassed, but still pleased with the turn of events.

The name for the group had been decided out of majority to be 'Dumbledore's Army' – Sam had laughed heartily at that one – hence 'DA.' Harry was elected to be leader faster than he could protest – most likely Hermione's enthusiasm had infected everyone present, and they followed her. Harry certainly seemed to be the only one who really knew what they were going to be doing, so Danny thought that was fair.

The first lesson they decided, was to happen today. Harry had said this particular spell saved him last June from what Danny supposed was the infamous Lord Voldemort himself. That was good enough for him (and by everyone's astonished expressions, it was good enough for them as well). Plus, he needed practice with his wand work anyway – he was terrible enough as it was.

Sam and Tucker got to practicing with each other almost immediately, mostly because Tucker had boasted his prowess at this particular spell. Sam had immediately said, "Oh, really?" with an evil smirk in response.

Ominous music played in the background of Danny's imagination, and he simply watched in amusement as the proverbial sparks flew.

A finger tapped him and he found Hermione's grinning face. "Without a partner already?" she asked him.

"Never had one," he explained sheepishly.

"I'm not sure if you've done this one before – I know I mentioned it over the summer."

She had mentioned it, this was true. However, the one time Danny tried it, he nearly set Tucker's clothes on fire. He didn't try again after that.

"I haven't," Danny lied smoothly.

"Well then! You should at least practice the motions." And Hermione demonstrated. Her arms moved almost rhythmically, and Danny's eyes followed. "It's pretty simple, really."

"You say that," Danny said nervously. "But you know how badly I do with practical stuff like this."

"A few fires and you get scared," Hermione prodded with a hidden laugh. She stood across from him. "Now, without waving your wand, say after me: Expelliarmus !"

Danny repeated it. Surprisingly, he got the pronunciation right.

"Ready to give it a try?"

Sighing, Danny nodded and stood at the ready.

" Expelliarmus! "

Two voices shouted in close unison – but Danny's frantic waving was a second ahead of Hermione.

The normal light of a Disarming spell was a dull white and green. Unfortunately, what came out of Danny's wand was a green that looked eerily familiar to the halfa – it was the same color of his regular ectoblasts: a sickly green-yellow.

This discovery wasn't really a big deal – every one of Danny's successful spells had the same color – puzzling most of the teachers to the point of irritation. No one had quite figured out why this was so, though Danny had a faint idea.

Danny was shocked to see that his spell was quite successful this time. So successful that it lifted Hermione of the ground and slammed her into the bookshelf behind her.

All activity stopped as the rest of the group stared in surprise.

Danny gaped stupidly and immediately made to run towards his fallen friend. His motions were halted by a furious Ron Weasley.

The boy had his wand pointed at Danny's neck. " What did you do ?" His words were sick with fear and anger.

Danny's eyes widened in honest surprise. "I just disarmed her!" he said, immediately defensive. Why was everyone looking so fearful?

"That wasn't the color of Expelliarmus !" growled Ron.

"Ron! That's enough!"

Hermione's voice interrupted their little tête-à-tête. Harry held her arm, but his eyes were on Danny – and they weren't entirely friendly.

"Hermione," Ron said, except this time his voice was brimming with relief. "Are you alright?"

"I'm perfectly fine," she said coldly. "However, I am slightly confused as to why you have your wand to Danny's throat. Did he do something wrong?"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted quickly. "The spell was bright green. We thought he'd…."

The unsaid words only confused Danny even more. As well as Sam and Tucker, who – surprise, surprise – had moved to surround Danny protectively.

But Hermione seemed to make an immediate connection. "You can't seriously believe that Danny would try to kill me!" she shrieked at Ron, mostly out of surprise rather than fury. "You heard his spell! It was exactly what a correct, albeit powerful, Disarming spell was supposed to do. As you can see, I'm quite alive." Her tones were exasperated near the end of her tirade.

Ron, confused, dropped his hand. Danny immediately moved backward.

"Why on earth would he try to kill Granger?" Harper glared angrily at Ron from his place across the room. "He's probably the only one of us who can entirely relate to her." By 'us,' Danny assumed the boy was talking about the Slytherins present.

"Look," Danny decided to diffuse a possibly violent transaction. "All the spells that I manage to make work have that color. No one knows why, alright?"

The room's tension levels dropped a few notches.

Ron glanced awkwardly at Danny, but his expression still held traces of left over resentment. "Sorry," he grumbled and moved stiffly towards Hermione – who looked like a mix between irritated and embarrassed. Harper, Danny noticed, was still trying to murder Ron with his eyes.

Danny blinked and breathed a sigh of relief as the world righted itself.

Tucker grinned shakily. "Well this bodes well."

Danny smiled at his friends, even though he was still confused. "I suppose we should practice as a trio today – safe bet for less excitement."

Sam laughed, though it sounded a bit nervous. "As if we could avoid excitement, even if we tried."

The three of them smiled secretly and got back to work. Thankfully, no one else was thrown forcefully into a bookshelf. Danny was grateful for that at least.

I suppose if I don't make more enemies while I'm here, I'm not doing my job , Danny thought to himself dryly.

It was just the thirteenth of October, and the trees outside had already decided to go ahead and wilt. The wind outside was cold and harsh, and rain fell occasionally. Luckily, it was evening, so most of the bad weather was disappearing with the sun.

Danny held his breath and let it out. He repeated this action several times. Calm, however, still eluded him.

"I thought you said you'd try out!"

"No, I said that I would try flying a broom – which you pulled me out of bed at the unholy hour of six in the morning for. I did fly, if you remember."

"But –"

"I didn't say I'd try out for the team!"

There they were on Sunday, standing in line for Quidditch tryouts – a line which was rather pathetically small (see: nonexistent ) – and waiting for Harper's turn. Harper seemed to think that both he and Danny would go for a spot on the Slytherin team. Danny personally thought he was delusional, and obviously needed to go have a lie down.

Harper looked highly desperate, which admittedly tugged at Danny's sympathies – but still.

"Just have a go at it," Harper clamored impatiently, his voice sounding like a kicked dog's. "For me, if you must."

"Why would I do it for you?"

Harper nearly pulled out his own personal set of Bambi eyes. Danny's Will felt itself crumble slightly.

Darn it.

"Next!"

Danny blinked. It was one of his roommates. "Vaisey?"

"The Captain is out ill," Ormand Vaisey replied smoothly. "Bad case of pranks gone horribly wrong, you see. I'm taking his place at the moment; though I am surprised to see you here, Fenton. I didn't know you knew Quidditch." The guy almost sounded a little upset. Danny blinked again.

"I didn't until yesterday – Harper showed me how to ride."

It was the temporary captain's turn to look astonished. "You know how the game works, I hope."

"Barely," Danny's dry tones could have made a whole new Sahara.

"Then pardon me for asking – but what the hell are you doing here?"

"He's here with me. I want to try out for a Chaser position. Danny wants to try out for the Seeker position, or anything else you can think of." Harper butted into the conversation with all the subtlety of an angry bear.

"No I don't." Danny was quick to deny this contentious claim.

"Yes. Yes he does." Harper was just as quick to defend it.

Vaisey stared at them blankly. "You do know that Malfoy's father bought a whole set of brooms for this team three years ago." And that HE is the Slytherin Seeker , went unsaid.

"Yes," Harper managed to say without flinching. Danny thought that was possibly a sign of great and terrible stupidity – or possibly courage. …Most likely it was stupidity.

"I might not make the reserve chaser position – but Fenton will. He's brilliant."

Danny groaned against his hands, as both covered his face in embarrassment.

"What? Fenton, you could totally beat him! Your reflexes are so much better, and even though you were on a broom for only a short time on Sunday, you were still superior!" Harper whispered.

"Please don't talk anymore," Danny mumbled, somewhat in pain. You could hear the grimace in his voice. "It's only hurting me."

"But –"

"Look," Vaisey said a little impatiently. "Are you going to try out, or not. We haven't got all day."

Danny, still grinding his teeth vigorously, grabbed the broom from Harper's hands in a violent motion and leapt on; flying into the air in a blur no one else could really follow.

Harper beamed like a proud papa. "He picks up things really quickly. It only took him a few minutes to get the hang of flying."

Vaisey gaped a little. "Well. That's interesting. Points to him for being a fast learner," he said, composing himself. "Now, let's see how he does with a real snitch." Into a trunk, Vaisey reached down to unlock the snitch, letting the small golden ball of evil flit upwards and immediately zip off into the dusk.

Harper whipped his head around. "What? I thought you were only practicing with those small white muggle balls."

"Golf balls. As for Danny…since he's applying for a Seeker position, even if it's just reserve he's still going against Malfoy," he said in a low tone. "He needs to impress the rest of the team as quickly and effectively as possible. Otherwise, there's no way he'll get accepted." A quick glance towards the rest of the rather muscular team showed that their expressions were just as shocked as Vaisey's had been. "Luckily, Slytherins will still choose winning over debts repaid." He only sounded a little bitter at that.

"I didn't think it mattered much to you," Harper said, his voice blank.

Vaisey smirked a little. "I'm not a complete tosser, though Montague is – luckily, he's not here."

"Hey! Should I go get the shiny thing?"

They both looked up at Danny's yell. "Yes! Get the shiny thing!" Vaisey responded, cupping his hand around his mouth to be heard. The smirk, Harper noted, only increased when he said this, and he frowned at their temporary captain.

It seemed like an impossible motion, but Danny reacted in a way none of the people on the ground suspected. He nodded, spun around, and hurtled toward the Forest in what seemed like one, fluid movement. It was like he already knew the motions; he was just…unfamiliar with the equipment.

"That's - hmm. You weren't kidding when you said he was fast. How long has he been flying?"

Harper tried to get his mouth working again. "Muh. Um. Since yesterday."

"You must be joking."

It was about this time that Harper noticed Danny wasn't stopping, even as the snitch flew straight for the darkening woods. "No. I'm not. And does he realize he's heading into the Forbidden Forest?" The words came out a little nervous.

The Captain blinked out of his stupor and stiffened. He raised up his wand in a quick jerky motion, his expression flat. The tip spouted off bright, obnoxiously yellow sparks, which danced trails into the setting sun's sky.

"Did he see those?" Harper asked while squinting.

Danny turned into a small dot amidst the darkness before disappearing completely.

"I guess not," Harper responded to his own question in low, unhappy tones.

Danny flew straight into the thick darkness of the forest. He didn't even notice that his eyes were bright and glowing with a luminescent green-yellow. It helped him search the dark for that damnable flying ball. A snitch, or whatever Harper had called it yesterday.

He expected the forest to be louder, but the eerie silence was unnerving, and surprising. The deeper he went, the more the woods grew quieter.

It was soon enough that he realized he didn't know where he was.

I could always just tell Vaisey I caught it and immediately lost it to the evil, evil trees. He might believe me.

Nah, that sounded completely lame.

Danny thought about flying up and above the trees. Perhaps he could find his way back to the try outs that way.

Except he heard the shuffling of hooves against leaves first, and the sound made him still. "Who's there?" he called weakly.

"Humans are no longer allowed in our woods. Explain or prepare to be fired upon without mercy."

The voice sounded as regal as they come, and Danny's instincts told him to be as truthful as possible. "I was just looking for something I had lost in here. The snitch – it flew into the forest and I went after it. Er, can I go? I didn't mean to intrude. Actually, I didn't know this place had, uh centaurs."

"Of course you didn't know," another hidden voice said in contempt. "Humans don't usually think about the things they cannot see. The things they fear."

"Oh how true that is," Danny agreed abruptly. He clapped a hand over his mouth and quickly gave himself a mental kick in the shins. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut?

There was an abundant pause. It seemed that the centaurs had no idea what to say to that.

"Friends," interrupted another, deeper voice. "This one does not smell like the usual human swill. He smells of Death, does he not?"

All the centaurs, even the ones with bows, trotted backwards and shuffled anxiously. "…He does." The first centaur who had spoken muttered curiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," Danny spoke up again. "But can I go? I didn't do anything wrong – and I kinda don't want to die via an arrow in the head." He was only a little disturbed at this point, and the threat of imminent death didn't exactly invite warm, fuzzy feelings.

"You are correct," the deep voice said. His voice would have been kind, except there was still an edge of danger. "But we will not tolerate your presence in our woods again. You would do well to remember that."

Danny's eyes glowed in irritation. "If you don't like humans, you should stop acting like them," he said suddenly, dropping his hands – which had been in the air as an act of temporary surrender. "Tolerance of others is something that all civilized creatures should have; being a human or a centaur has nothing to do with it."

Angry mutterings sprung up from that statement.

Deep Voice spoke again, his eyes glaring. "You dare insult us in our domain?"

"It's not an insult unless it's true," Danny shot back. Idly, he wondered where this argument was coming from.

Then he remembered that for the past month and a half, he had put up with nothing but ignorant hatred from many of the peers around him; not to mention a year and a half of ghosts and humans alike believing him to be the worst thing to happen since the invention of infomercials, despite all of his unconditional help.

In Danny's opinion, this was a long time coming.

"We should kill him for such insolence!" shouted the first centaur again.

One of the darker, older centaurs raised his hand for silence; he got it immediately. Danny allowed himself to really shut up this time.

"Boy…or whatever you are, you have no idea the prejudice we have had to endure. It is has not been easy, and we have lost many of our people to misunderstanding and blind hatred. I would remind you to understand that most of us do not wish to threaten humans – most of us wish for peace. Sadly, until we have the eyes and ears of wizards, we will never have their interest…or their tolerance."

Danny sighed internally. "Well, I may not get your centuries of oppression, but don't assume that it's just humans against everything else. Because that's never the case. Humans go against each other just as easily as they go against other living creatures, trust me. Until we sort ourselves out, don't hope for much. Unless you're willing to understand us as well."

The old centaur stared at him in astonishment. Then his eyes crinkled into a smile. "Never has a human been so bold to tell us exactly how he feels. It has been ages since I have heard such strong sentiments."

"Aether – "

"I will not hear another word Magorian. This boy has told us his true feelings. Since they are neither for, nor against us, we have no say in his fate." Aether said this in a firm voice. "Not that we ever have a say in fate," he added evenly.

Danny's spine relaxed, and he felt his own aggressiveness crumple up and dissolve. "Thanks," he said simply. "I won't bother you again, I promise."

"If you do bother us, be sure to visit me," Aether sounded almost grandfatherly.

The other centaurs looked highly distrustful of this, but Danny simply grinned and gripped his broom.

"I do believe," the dark centaur said suddenly. "That this is yours."

"Bane!"

"I doubt he will leave the forest without it," Bane responded, a small amount of heat in his tone. In his hand was the missing snitch.

Danny blinked and took the struggling trinket without another word. He just grinned warily. "Thanks for not killing me. I appreciate it."

Aether simply waved once before the rest of the agitated herd vanished back from whence they came.

Danny flew up and out of the forest, wondering if what had happened had all been some strange hallucination. And he wasn't entirely sure if he'd just made allies, or enemies.

"Fenton! Thank Merlin – we thought you had been eaten or some such horrible thing."

Harper was there to meet him as he landed directly outside the forest. He grinned, and Danny was actually surprised to see him looking so relieved.

"It wasn't so bad – I found the snitch." And lo, he had.

"That's good," Harper said as they began to walk back. "You're lucky nothing tried to kill you in there. They call it Forbidden for a reason."

Oh the hilarity. Danny almost laughed.

"The try outs are over – I managed to get reserve chaser while you were out."

"Vaisey didn't call for a professor, did he?" Danny asked, alarmed at the thought.

"Oh no, but he did send me to wait for you. I suppose snitches aren't supposed to go past a certain boundary within the Forest, so he wasn't too worried."

"I feel loved," Danny drawled and clenched his knuckles around the snitch tightly.

"There's good news," Harper continued, excitement overflowing from his words. "Vaisey convinced the other team members to make you reserve seeker – as well as the temporary chaser for the next game!"

Danny had been trying to inhale, but made the mistake of exhaling at the same time, due to shock. He coughed for a moment before whipping his head to stare at Harper. "What?!"

"Vaisey said Montague was going to be out until the end of the first week of November. They needed a temporary chaser, and Vaisey even convinced Goyle and Crabbe that you'd be perfect for the job. Isn't that great?"

Danny declined to comment, mostly due to his inability to form coherent thought.

He set the snitch back into the wooden case – obviously left out for him – and stayed mute.

"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"

Harper looked at him expectantly. Danny opened his mouth. Then closed it.

"…I need more practice," he grumped and walked past Harper, who merely grinned excitedly.

"I told you that you'd make it." He sounded so proud.

With friends like him, I'm not going to make it past the age of sixteen, Danny though morbidly as both boys headed back into the castle.

Danny remembered the feeling of fear. In fact, up until several months ago, he felt a similar feeling nearly every day.

Prof. Snape seemed to incur Danny's fight or flight instincts as naturally as birds flew or fish swam.

His momentary dose of adrenaline for the day was interrupted, surprisingly, by Hermione Granger.

She slid into the seat next to him as Snape swooped up and down the isles, like he was mentally taking attendance. "I asked Sam if we could switch partners today," she explained in a conspiring tone.

"Why?" Danny blurted out, slightly shocked. "Won't your friends, er…" he trailed off nervously.

A glance backwards would've earned Danny one of the worst glares that Ron Weasley ever gave (Harry just looked vaguely amused and surprised at the same time – but he too felt a pang of suspicion). Thankfully, Danny was still talking to Hermione, so he missed all of this.

"They'll be fine," Hermione whispered, waving a hand impatiently. Snape was already at the head of the class, shuffling papers in an impatient fashion. It was amazing how the man could make the simplest of tasks look terribly inconvenient.

"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger," he said coldly – apparently, he had excellent hearing as well as the incredible ability to be annoyed at everyone simultaneously.

Danny bit his cheek. He was used to this treatment when it was directed at Sam (though admittedly, it wasn't nearly as acidic as Snape's treatment of Harry and any of his close friends) – of course, he didn't have to like it. Unfortunately, there was little he could do to stem such attitude from a teacher – especially when said teacher was his head of house.

Plus, Danny had a distant, but firm feeling that despite his abhorrent behavior towards his students, Snape was someone he should have on his side. That and he didn't want to attract anymore attention from the bizarre man than he already had. Snape hadn't really gotten to speak with him since their strange conversation after the Potions Practical he had done back in August.

And Danny wanted to keep it that way.

He heard an unfavorable hiss, and one quick look behind him told him that it had been a red-faced Ron Weasley, partnered to an equally annoyed …Sam?

She caught his eye and grinned slightly, although traces of anger filtered through her expression nonetheless. Danny helplessly shrugged back, and she nodded her head in response.

After Snape's pronouncement of point deduction, the class seemed to silence itself, as usual.

As the potions professor recited the instructions, and then proceeded to write them down on the chalkboard behind him. Danny mentally memorized each ingredient, and it's relation to the different steps included in the process. They were making a potion called Contego Flamma ; it was supposed to protect you from all different sorts of fire, excluding Fiendfyre. Danny had heard of the latter from Hermione during the summer, and he had been vaguely terrified of a fire that would never extinguish through any other means aside from exhaustion (as if a fire could even become exhausted…though this was magic – Danny still had some adjustments to make in this regard, despite his extensive experience with the paranormal).

After a moment of silence, Snape sharply intoned that they should stop gawking and get to work. The rustling of robes and clanking of scales immediately extinguished the quiet. "Would you mind getting the ingredients?" asked Hermione politely, still looking mildly irritated by her point-deduction from earlier.

Danny smiled quickly, noticing this, and got up without disrupting the cauldron. "Yeah, sure. Be right back."

On his way up, he sidled up next to Sam. "You're with Ron Weasley?" he asked in amazement. "Not that I'm complaining, but how did Hermione get you to switch partners?"

"She just asked me," Sam said, her voice amused as they inched up the line, waiting for their turn. "I'm not that attached to you, Danny," she said, this time with a self-conscious lilt.

Danny refrained from snorting loudly. He turned his head and grinned a greeting to Daphne, Tracey, and Mafalda – all three of whom waved sincerely back. Sam noticed his line of sight, and her eyes widened slightly. "So…you aren't entirely ostracized anymore," Sam said with quiet relief – tinged with a hint of jealousy that Danny obliviously did not take note of. "I wasn't sure after the first meeting whether or not they meant to stick by you, but…."

"Yeah, I'm as shocked as you are," Danny admitted dryly and finally started gathering the ingredients. Hmm…fire cactus nectar, goblin ichor, amber, Hungarian horntail scales, and red geranium; Danny gathered the listed ingredients recited in his head as quickly as possible. He hated running into Malfoy – which was something that would inevitably happen if he stayed in line for too long. "I'll see you after class then," he caroled to Sam as he left the line and scurried back to Hermione.

He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Malfoy had just gotten in line as he had escaped – no chance of a minor confrontation.

"Crush the amber as finely as possible –,"

"Or else we get a boil-inducing reaction from the drinker," Danny said in an amused voice. "I know Hermione; I did the reading."

She looked mildly surprised. "I didn't know you had taken a liking to potions," she said after a moment, her voice equally amused.

Danny turned to her and blinked. "What?"

She smiled at him and continued to stir. "Your enthusiasm is hard to hide, actually," she added knowingly.

Danny would look back on this moment fondly in darker times. For now, he simply blushed and stared hard at the amber he was currently grinding into a fine powder – nearly cracking the mortar while doing so.

Hermione chuckled and hushed conversation continued between them, silencing whenever Snape slithered by.

Unfortunately for Danny, this was to be his last truly relaxing moment for quite a while.

The next day was Halloween. He only remembered because Harper had told him eagerly about the awesomeness that was the Hogwarts Halloween festival. Tucker had just been ecstatic when he heard that there would be huge piles of food. Sam thought that a more traditional All Hallows Eve would be absolutely wonderful.

Danny was just happy that they didn't have to dress up. He was too used to his mom putting him in horribly cute outfits when he was younger. It hadn't happened for a few years, but the experience was still mentally scarring.

Uncharacteristically, he was alone while walking back to the Slytherin dorms before lunch. It was for this reason that he felt lucky instead of panicked when he heard Sir Nicholas calling out "Phantom?" in a loud volume throughout the castle.

Zipping into a nearby broom closet (those things came in real handy), Danny let the transformation come over him and he phased out into the open. He followed the friendly ghost's yells until they brought him to the entrance of the Great Hall, where both Sir Nicholas and Albus Dumbledore were waiting.

The white-haired teen ghost floated down to the ground, his mind whirling with questions and worries. Was he in trouble? If so, why the public exhibition?

…Was it obvious that Danny hated spectacles?

"Phantom?"

Danny blinked and realized he was being addressed. "Sorry," he apologized, smiling weakly, "Just a bit tired. I take it you were calling for me?"

Albus stared at him in bemusement. "I was not aware that ghosts could tire," he said in response. Before Danny could refute his previous statement, Dumbledore continued. "I did call for you. Perhaps we could hold our discussion in a less populated area?"

Danny glanced around and realized that the hissing noise he was hearing was actually thousands of little whispers being thrown around the hallway. It took a moment to realize that he hadn't actually been in the public eye for over two months. This was the first time Albus had asked him to appear during the day.

He waved weakly to the students around him and immediately went invisible.

Albus chuckled and simply headed back to his office, Danny trailing behind like the specter he almost was.

People were already inside the headmaster's office, and Danny blinked into visibility out of surprise – and etiquette. These people were his supposed allies; no need to hide from them.

"We have heard reliable word of an attack planned on a village not far from here," were the first words out of Dumbledore's mouth.

Danny blinked. "I understand that's important," he said in a mildly confused voice. "But, uh, what do you want me to do? I can't stop it by myself."

"No need for anything drastic," Albus said, but his tone was dark. "I understand that Voldemort will be searching for a large clan of werewolves in the area. The attack is a smokescreen of sorts; we did not discover his true motives until a few days ago."

The other members had faces which were familiar to Danny; Tonks as well as Lupin – whom he gave a grin. But Dumbledore's news made Danny feel entirely uneasy. "What should I do then?" he repeated, his words careful.

"We need more people on our side, and werewolves are human beings as well. Lupin has tried to negotiate with them already, but to no avail."

Lupin didn't look entirely disappointed by this. Danny could only imagine why.

And he was puzzled. Why would Dumbledore send someone as complacent as Lupin to bargain with potentially vicious creatures? It didn't make much sense.

"So you want me to persuade them?"

"I would like you to try. I don't expect success, but we will never know the outcome unless we make an effort."

Danny glanced at the expectant faces around him, and felt a tad overwhelmed. "I gotta ask, why me?"

"Sir Nicholas has informed me of many things surrounding your character that you yourself neglected to tell me," Dumbledore said with a faint smile. "I did not know you had such a formidable reputation amongst the creatures of the Dark."

To be honest, neither did Danny.

"Okay, I can try."

Dumbledore saw his expression and nodded slightly. "Order members will also be there – but they will mostly patrolling for Death Eaters in the village, just in case."

He turned and picked up a mitten from his desk. "This is a portkey," he continued. "Since I know it will work for ghosts – or simply just you – you may use this to appear on the edge of the werewolves' territory."

Danny felt highly skeptical of the whole thing, and he said so.

"I have faith that you might have a better chance of reaching some sort of truce, if not an alliance. You give yourself too little credit."

The halfa stared in astonishment at the people around him – still feeling the eyes of the others, some thankful, and most doubtful. They were putting a lot on his shoulders and they barely knew him.

"Your unique position as a supposedly 'Dark' creature with tendencies more in common with the Light could prove very beneficial, if you choose to use it."

He had no idea, thought Danny with wry overtones. Another glance at those around him gave him pause once more, but he wilted. They really needed him.

"…Alright."

The trip with the portkey was as unpleasant as usual. Danny landed on the edge of a forest – he could see the village beyond the hills, and absently, he wondered if the people who lived there were wizards or regular folks.

He shook his head and eyed the woods warily. He had not had a good time with magical forests as of late, and was expecting the worst. Nonetheless, Danny moved onward.

As he flew smoothly through the trees (quite literally – he was invisible as well as intangible), Danny thought back to Wulf. Ever since the mention of werewolves, he began to wonder if one of the only ghost friends he had was in fact a werewolf himself. It was a bit shameful when he realized that he knew very little about Wulf, and Danny resolved that he would ask him the next time they met.

He wondered how he was supposed to find these werewolves. It wasn't like they would have a sign saying, "Full Moon Inn, next right. Bring raw flesh, and get a complimentary back rub!"

The forest only got darker the deeper he went; the dusk wasn't helping Danny see any better either. A flicker of something caught his eye, and he frowned, quickly adjusting his flight pattern to follow the bobbing source light.

Soon enough, he heard, past the normal forest growls and snarls, low, hushed words. Like a bloodhound, Danny zoned in the direction of the voices.

"Why do you resist? You had no complaints when you joined the Lord's forces fifteen years ago."

Danny froze and stayed in mid air, floating carefully. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

"We wish for neutrality," a deep, gruff voice spoke. It was strange to hear such a wild, powerful voice using polite speech. "Unlike my predecessor, we wish simply to be left alone."

Danny inched forward and blinked.

A tall man with dark brown hair, wearing tattered clothes and an odd tattoo on his right shoulder, stood broad shouldered and strong. He was the one who had spoken last. Behind him, a group of similarly dressed folk hovered anxiously.

"You do not wish for vengeance? The ministry has held your people in the lowest regard for centuries. Surely you –"

"Do not," the brown haired man interrupted harshly. "Pretend that you feel any different."

The figure draped in black cloth, wearing a bone-white mask that eerily resembled a skull, seemed to tense. His wand, which was glowing brightly at the tip, wavered slightly. "I speak only for my Lord – he has no compunctions about what you are."

"Yes he does, he just ignores it until we discontinue being useful," a young girl, who had been standing behind the tall, burly man spoke up. Her voice trembled.

Danny listened intently. Dumbledore had been right – werewolves were good as well as bad; still human, in other words. Not that Danny had expected much different.

His eyes caught movement down by the main guy in black – the one who appeared to be the cloaked ones' spokesperson – and noticed that a gigantic snake was currently circling the man's feet.

A thought occurred to him, and he edged closer.

"For the sake of my people, I ask you to leave. We do not wish for conflict," the man said, in a voice that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

"I'm afraid you will have to join us," the masked man's cold voice sent shivers down Danny's spine. "Lord Voldemort wishes it – so it shall be."

Danny suddenly thought of Desiree, which disturbed him to an unspeakable degree.

The snake hissed, and Danny swore he heard someone say, " Kill them! "

Sure enough, wands were extracted, and red beams of energy lit up the trees like neon light. Danny wasted no time and quickly overshadowed the great serpent, which writhed for a moment before stilling.

Get out spirit!

Danny wrestled his way into her mind, which was weird – because normally, animals had no will to oppose him. Even normal people were easier. Heck no! I'm trying to solve a conflict here! He argued back, absurd as it was to do so.

You are a mere poltergeist. Why should you hold any threat to me?

The words sounded a little different this time, and Danny, confused and not a little uneasy, lost his grip on the snake's mind.

A yell left his lips as he was thrust back out of the lithe, slithering creature, slamming into a nearby tree with a great deal of force.

"Ow…" he muttered, rubbing his head.

He was quickly motivated to move when a bright red ray caused the tree next to him to splinter. Danny picked up the pace, and flew upwards, then straight back down, slamming into one of the guys' wearing the masks. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that these were Death Eaters.

The man crumpled beneath him, and Danny had to remember to hold back some. Other ghosts weren't as susceptible to damage as humans were.

"Get him!" cried the voice he heard in the beginning. The werewolf tribe scattered into the woods, leaving only a few at the mercy of a much larger number of Death Eaters than Danny remembered.

He also assumed that 'him' meant Danny himself. Shouts were heard before several more red (and some suspiciously green) bolts headed his way.

Quickly righting himself, Danny raised both his hands and created a shield of his own energy, circling outward to encompass both him and the remaining werewolves. "Yeesh, where did you people learn to negotiate?" he taunted, not quite being able to help himself. A few more spells were cast, but they simply bounced off the large dome.

"What are you?" one of the other masked men asked, irritated.

Danny studiously ignored that question. "I'm gonna tell you once. Get out of here, and don't bother these guys again."

"And why on earth should we listen to you?" the smooth, icy voice from before penetrated the sudden silence.

"Because," Danny said, lowering his hands and letting his mind upkeep the shield. "I can do this."

His eyes narrowed and shot out beams of highly volatile ectoplasm, going easily through the shield to slam a few of the unwary Death Eaters into a pile of leaves and rock.

The eyes behind Ice King's mask narrowed furiously. " Protego! "

A shield of magical energy shot out from the man's wand, and collided with Danny's own, and the two rippled for a moment before both vanished entirely.

Wasting no time, Danny swept his hand in an arc, his ray of energy slicing dirt, debris, and rock high into the air while carving a deep gorge into the earth. He turned his head from the resulting chaos, and flew over to the remaining werewolves.

"I need you guys to escape. Let me hold them off, alright?"

The burly man Danny had seen from before stared at him in what looked like disbelief. "They'll kill you."

"Let me worry about that," Danny's voice was hollow despite his cockiness. "I need you guys to stay safe."

The man almost looked like he wanted to smile, but refrained. "Who are you?"

Hearing the angry shouts of the Death Eaters behind him, Danny shook his head and shoved him gently away. "I'm with Dumbledore," he answered hastily, and flew back to his one-on-five battle.

He honestly didn't know if all the werewolves had left, but he had no more time to worry about it.

"You have no business here, whoever you are." Ice King spoke again, this time with slow, careful enunciation. "Before we kill you, tell us what you are."

It was definitely a fight or flight moment. "You can't kill me," Danny said, by way of intimidation rather than pride. "So don't bother."

Long, white-blonde hair fluttered out from behind Ice King. "Oh? Are you so sure?" And without any warning, he made a slashing motion with his wand.

There wasn't a spell accompanying it, but Danny felt the sudden need to fly out of the way.

He moved too late. A deep gash appeared along his abdomen (rather than his neck, which he was thankful for), and he cried out in surprise and severe pain. Danny faltered in mid-air and sank back to the ground, holding his hands against his stomach, eyes wide and lungs gasping for air.

"Everyone can be killed," Ice King spoke again, but his voice sounded closer this time.

Danny felt a genuine fear build up inside his heart. This wasn't like his usual battles at all – the only thing that felt similar was his little trip to the future and back. And even then, he was dealing with himself. Even fighting Plasmius wasn't the same. This man…he was different.

He was willing to kill.

"Not. Me." Danny grit his teeth and disappeared without flourish, his fingers dropping the mitten as soon as he felt the familiar tug behind his navel, and he closed his eyes to the yell of rage that echoed after him.

Unsurprisingly, he arrived inside Hogwarts grounds.

Danny didn't know what time it was, only that it was darker than before, and he was feeling hungry. So he decided to make his way towards the Great Hall.

Obviously, the halfa wasn't entirely in his right mind.

He was bleeding a lot; probably more than he ever had before in his entire, illustrious career. He knew this only because his eyes, though fuzzy, were as clear as ever, and he could see bright green stuff spilling out from the wound on his abdomen, head, and various other places

Yeah, it hurt a lot.

Danny floated just a few inches off the stone riddled floor, and he wondered idly whether or not Filch would be angry about the mess he was leaving. Sure, it was a cool fluorescent ectoplasm-infused bloody mess, but this was Filch .

A small hysterical giggle escaped his lips as he neared the Great Hall. He was slipping, and he could tell, even though the only similar experience he had to compare to this was the time he stepped into an inter-dimensional portal and died. Not exactly the best of things to juxtapose his situation, but he thought the extenuating circumstances (and pain ) justified his (temporary?) insanity.

He phased directly through the great wooden doors, and wasn't too shocked to hear the Hall silence itself. Coughing slightly (his spittle was speckled with bright green and dark red; not good), he floated all the way up to the three stone steps that preceded the staff table and then collapsed gracefully onto the floor.

A thunderous round of whispers and yells permeated the great room, echoing off the highest rafters. Danny's weary eye blinked open, looking upwards. Floating pumpkins, carved elegantly, hovered over his head. Oh right. Halloween. He had forgotten.

"Phantom? Are you alright?"

Danny's eyes wildly searched for the voice. He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed against him, making him recline once more. "No," he finally responded tiredly, wincing at his stomach's angry wound.

"What in Merlin's name happened?!" another professor shouted above the murmurs – Danny couldn't make out who it was.

Albus' face loomed over him, and Danny realized that it was his voice earlier. "Leave the questions for later. We have to get him some…sort of help."

He heard Umbridge's near-hysterical voice in the background and smiled somewhat bitterly. Well, even the infallible Dumbledore was at a loss. Danny felt proud, in the same way that a fallen deer is proud that its flesh is too hard for the wolves to chew.

Then the worst possible thing happened.

Danny shivered terribly, a visible cold mist escaping his mouth as he coughed up a little more glowing spittle. This was not turning into his best day ever. "Crap," he said his voice loud and clear, despite the whispers and startled yelps of realization.

"What is it?" Albus asked him, his tone deadly serious and much older than Danny had ever remembered hearing it.

"We have company," Danny responded quickly, trying to stand up. This time he succeeded – his hand gripped the great wooden staff table, vice-like in its intensity. He was only able to stand up because his wounds were finally beginning to heal themselves.

Took long enough.

"What, exactly, do you mean by 'company'?" Snape's cold voice snuck into the growing frenzy. Danny had forgotten how amazing his professor's hearing was.

It was here that a specter appeared, floating into existence high above the Great Hall before descending slowly into the silence below. His dark armor was wreathed in purple-black flame, and Danny spent no time realizing who this was.

The Fright Knight had returned.

But it was different this time. Danny had grown in many different ways – and was no longer the same boy who had fought the Knight on that Halloween so long ago. And even though green-red blood slipped easily from his torso and his hands, he glared at his not-so frequent nemesis.

In Danny's defense, the Fright Knight looked equally affronted at the halfa's presence. "Well Phantom," the hollow voice seemed to penetrate the very walls of the castle. "I simply wanted to revisit old stomping grounds – but it's a completely pleasant surprise to find you here."

Danny croaked, "Likewise, 'cept it's more of an unpleasant one for me, I'll be honest."

"Good Lord," said Nick, floating harmlessly far, far away from any of the action nearby, and nearer to the students. "I didn't believe he actually existed."

"Who?" Someone's anxious voice echoed loudly.

"The Knight of Samhain. He was just a legend on the ethereal planes!"

"Oh he's no legend," Sam's voice cut into the hushed conversation angrily. "But Danny's defeated him before. And he'll do it again."

With this pronouncement, the Goth girl stood up amidst the cowering populace.

"Remember the pumpkin!" she cried. "Danny, the pumpkin!"

The Fright Knight's staring contest with Phantom paused as he slowly turned. His visage, if possible, turned even angrier than previous. "You," he growled, his coals for eyes burning furiously.

Sam seemed to freeze up before she ground out, "Yeah, that's right, me. Glad you remembered."

Danny used this distraction to calmly punch the Knight in the face.

The ghost flew across the room into the stone wall, landing with a surprisingly loud, shattering crunch. A scowl flew over the Knight's face (mostly his eyes), and he launched off, unsheathing his sword, purple flames highlighting the eerie emptiness of his entire being.

And thus, a duel began, with Danny mostly on the defensive, his hands creating a bright green ectoplasmic shield to protect himself from the Knight's strong blows.

Sam immediately ran over to Tucker, despite Hermione's desperate yells for her to stay put. The boy looked only mildly shaken, but straightened when Sam gripped his shoulder tightly. They both nodded in unison, and made a run for the nearest pumpkin. Luckily, they weren't hard to find, as the smallest ones were about four feet tall.

Students decided to stay put; some hid beneath the great wooden tables, and some poked their heads out to stare at the unusual spectacle.

Snape and a few others had already tried firing spells, but the Fright Knight either blocked them or phased through every attack. The ghost was entirely focused on Danny, who didn't seem to be doing so well, due to obvious reasons involving the open wound on his abdomen (which wasn't healing as fast as he'd like).

Dumbledore had shielded most of the students. He had quickly realized that while the two…creatures were fighting, there was little he could do to interfere. His mind jumped to what would possibly happen afterward, and the words of Samantha Manson suddenly intruded into his mind.

Tucker and Sam had located a pumpkin simply by walking into it. Neither could lift it by themselves, but miraculously, it jumped into the air, and stayed there. Their eyes flew to the staff table, and met Dumbledore's expectant gaze.

Both of them gaped for a moment before pointing at the very middle of the Great Hall. The pumpkin floated and plopped itself down underneath a vicious mid-air battle.

Danny's sweat fuzzed his vision, and allowed another attempt at separating his head from his torso. Thankfully, the sword was obvious to anyone – even someone with debilitating battle wounds, and he went intangible just barely in time, flying sharply backwards towards the ceiling.

"I see I'll need the proper incentive for you to really get into the spirit of things," the Fright Knight said in a strangely calm voice.

Danny blinked at this and his mind suddenly realized what the spirit meant. "No," he said, his breath short and his eyes wide.

Too late, the halfa made a grab for the Knight's sword. But the dark figure had already flown straight down, in the direction of the Gryffindor tables. He had phased harmlessly through the shield, much to Dumbledore's alarm, snatching a figure up from the under the table.

Hermione .

Neither Sam nor Tucker had imagined this, and they, predictably, panicked. Along with most of the students around them.

But Danny didn't feel anything. Things had spiraled so far out of control, that for a moment, he didn't know what to do. Numb, he stared at Hermione's surprised and frightened face.

Then something snapped.

"Let her go," Danny's voice hissed angrily, his head tilted downward.

"Oh? Do you actually know this one?" the Knight said in a voice that didn't entirely sound like his own. Hermione tried to reach for her wand unobtrusively, but the dark ghost held both her hands in an iron grip.

"I said," an odd glow surrounded Phantom's form. "Let her go."

"Well, I'm not going to now," the ghost said, again sounding more and more like….

Plasmius?

It was all the impetus Danny needed.

The light from his eyes and hands were so bright, they were nearly white. He screamed in inarticulate rage, and brought both his hands together in a singular movement.

The beam of ectoplasmic energy slammed into the Knight so fiercely that he released Hermione out of surprise and force. The girl fell only a few feet before being levitated down by Ron Weasley himself, and caught by Harry and Ginny – just barely.

The Knight dropped his sword as he crashed into the wall, the beam still streaming into him with all the tenacity of an oncoming bull. He yelled in pain, but Danny just kept floating forward, something off kilter in his eyes as he pushed further and further. The wall began to crack and splinter ominously.

"Danny!"

Sam's voice cut through the dramatic display of power like a knife through bread.

The halfa's tired and angry gaze caught the image of his best friends holding the Fright Knight's sword; Tucker with the blade and Sam with the handle. It was hoisted over the pumpkin in the middle of the floor.

Danny grinned triumphantly. "Happy Halloween," he growled in the Knight's face. He gripped the spirit by the cusp of his chest plate and lifted him up with one arm. Then, he turned and hurled the ghost down to the stone floor below them.

Sam and Tucker shoved the sword into the pumpkin, and the Knight screamed.

The pyrotechnics and light show shocked everyone into stilled silence. After a few seconds the pumpkin simply pulsed with purple flame once, and the Fright Knight was no more.

There was a stunned silence before the loud thud of flesh hitting stone shattered it.

Danny lay where he had landed on the floor, breathing harshly and shuddering. He once again cursed that Death Eater and his 'trigger' happy cutting spells; this entire mess would have been over much sooner had he been in better shape. He didn't think there was a place on him that wasn't injured. It was like he was a living, breathing bruise.

He heard Sam's boots before he saw her.

"Oh man, Danny," her voice sounded frantic and weak. It shook him more than anything that had happened so far, and he hated himself for making her worry.

"I'm fine," he said in a voice that sounded the exact opposite of fine.

A hand on his shoulder, surprisingly gentle; "I don't think so." Tucker's voice floated above him. It sounded about as serious as he'd ever heard.

Other footsteps began to converge, and what was left of Danny's sanity started to panic. "You guys get out; I'm going the DA room."

Sam and Tucker both started to protest before Danny simply vanished, leaving the entirety of the Great Hall's occupants stunned and fearful.

Well, almost all of the occupants.

Three times, around; think of what I need. He remembered Hermione's strict instructions on how to get inside the Room of Requirement. Thankfully.

Stumbling on his miraculously still-operational two legs, Danny finally saw a small, modest door appear in the wall.

He didn't even bother opening it; instead, opting to phase through and collapse on a nearby couch.

Ow.

Two bright blue rings encircled him and Danny Fenton sat up – feeling much better.

He knew it was mostly just the fact that his human side hadn't suffered any damage – and he was used to the fact that when his ghost half endured these physical abuses, his human side tended to subdue them. But the phantom (no pun intended) pain still lingered, so he lay still, taking deep breaths.

The door opened.

Danny nearly shot a foot into the air out of surprise. "Who-?"

He looked into the mildly surprised eyes of Harry Potter.

"Fenton?"

"Yes?" he responded quickly, his heart racing. Please say he just wanted to check up on the room to see if it still worked. Please please please….

"Did you see that Phantom ghost come in here?" he asked, still somewhat puzzled.

Damn.

"No," I was too busy huddled up in pain . "I was taking a nap."

A warm wetness on his stomach startled Danny into taking a step back. His eyes drifted downward and saw spots of red on his white shirt.

He wasn't the only one to notice. "What is that? Are you injured?" Harry's voice sounded genuinely concerned, which surprised Danny somewhat. But it also sounded highly suspicious; which was something that didn't surprise Danny at all.

"Leftover ketchup from the feast." God, what a horrible lie – he wasn't even there for dinner. He shifted his robes to cover his front. "Why were you looking for Phantom anyway?"

"I saw him come in here – he seems to know about the Room as well, though I highly doubt he'll tell anyone about it," Harry contemplated aloud, seeming to re-focus his energy on the mysterious ghost. "Wait – why were you in here?"

"Told you, I was taking a nap," Danny said, not entirely lying. Well, he wanted to take a nap before Harry decided to interrupt.

"In the Room of Requirement?" Harry didn't sound convinced. It made Danny feel better that the guy wasn't a total moron – but he preferred it if he didn't try to play investigator on Danny's behalf.

"It has good cushions," he protested innocently. "Besides, I wanted to see if it did what you really say it does. Turns out it's pretty nifty."

Harry strode over to a bookshelf and quickly yanked out a book. "'The Self-Healer's Guide to Stomach Wounds'?" he asked skeptically of Danny.

Oookay, so the room works too well.

Of course, he didn't really have a response to that.

But before he could answer, someone else joined the party.

"Interesting – I've never seen this room before."

Danny's brain almost decided that this was a good time to just go on vacation – screw the rules!

"What are you doing here Malfoy?"

Danny blinked at Harry's exasperated and annoyed expression.

"Well," the blonde sidled into the room via the open door and smirked his usual smirk. "You snuck off. I decided that whatever you were going to do would be far more interesting than the general panicked assembly in the Great Hall. I was right."

"Does this look like a rave to you Malfoy?" Danny couldn't help but ask, his sarcasm deciding to start replenishing itself. At last . He ignored Malfoy's puzzled look. "We're in a small room full of books. Talking quietly. You must lead a very boring life."

Danny didn't bother paying attention to Harry's completely astonished expression.

"I was simply concerned that Potter would cause more trouble – I'm a prefect. It's my job to stifle student delinquency."

Oh, now that was just hilarious. And Danny advertised what he thought of this sentence by laughing loudly.

Harry blinked in sublime confusion.

Malfoy looked like he wanted to hurt Danny very badly . But he refrained for reasons unknown.

"I'm sorry," Danny said breathlessly, trying to regain his composure. "I thought you implied that you weren't a delinquent."

Harry shook his head and shot Danny a worried glance. "We should go," he said – in Danny's general direction.

This surprised both Danny as well as Malfoy. "That's funny – I didn't think the two of you were friends," Malfoy said in a voice that was chock full of suspicion.

"We aren't, trust me," Danny said honestly. He had spoken with Harry (both as Phantom and Fenton) a total of probably three times. The conversations were mostly about having a good morning – or a not so thoughtful 'thank you.'

Harry had realized his slip a bit too late, but he frowned in any case. "Of course not," he bit out. Danny blinked – maybe Harry was offended by his careless brush off.

Surprising.

Glasses glinting in annoyance, Harry silently made his way out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. Phantom had obviously been shoved aside – or forgotten. Either way, it was better for everyone involved.

Except Danny, of course.

He glared unappreciatively in Malfoy's general direction. It was one thing to be fooled around with be people older than him (- cough- Vlad – cough- ), but having someone his age try to jerk him around was something entirely different (see: Dash, and infuriating ).

"Listen, I don't owe you anything," he responded at last. His eyes were getting tired of glaring. His body was just plain tired. "So don't assume you did me any favors."

Malfoy continued to smirk. "I'll let you believe that."

Danny stood up and stomped out of the room as delicately as he could without hurting himself even more. But not before he had snagged one of the labeled healing salves for himself.

Malfoy followed, shutting the door behind him. "What were you really doing in there?" the boy asked, his voice sounding deceptive right from the start.

"Napping," Danny said tiredly. It scared him enough that they were having a civilized conversation; he didn't want to imagine why.

Malfoy glared, finally losing his patience. "If you wish to continue being an enigma, allow me to inform you that your charade won't last long. I am very good at finding everyone's dark little secrets."

"Glad you have a hobby Malfoy," Danny's cheek was really getting better the longer he stayed here. "But I don't have dark secrets." Just really annoying ones . "So you're wasting time."

"I don't believe that you're a mudblood," Malfoy blurted loudly, his voice irate as well as embarrassed.

And as Danny was about to respond to this ridiculous statement, Harper appeared around the corner – with a whole host of Harry's favorite Slytherins (he wasn't even being sarcastic here).

Along with a very relieved Sam and Tucker.

Both of them grabbed his arms and marched him off, the mildly confused Harper and company following hurriedly behind them. They left Malfoy with nothing, not even an acknowledgement.

Danny knew that all of this was going to come back to bite him later.

Chapter Text

"Why were you in the DA room?"

Danny only groaned aloud. "For the fifth time, I was napping. Is it illegal to take a nap?"

"No," Daphne Greengrass continued in place of Harper, her tone concerned. "I'll rephrase. Why was Malfoy in the room with you?"

"Did he recognize it for what it was?" asked Sam from his left, voice subdued.

Danny still held his robes closed as he felt the warm wetness spread with alarming swiftness. Funny thing was, he didn't notice any sort of pain – but that just made his worry increase. "No – I left the door open so it would just seem like a normal room."

No mention on how closing the door would have erased his presence completely, thus eliminating the possibility of other people finding him. No mention at all.

Harper looked like he was about to mention that, but Tucker decided to divert the conversation slightly. "Why was that Malfoy guy with you anyway?"

Of course, this didn't help stem Danny's discomfort, considering that answering such a question would involve bringing up Phantom – and Danny didn't really want to go there at the moment.

His vision swam precariously and he blinked. "I dunno – I guess he saw me asleep and decided to bother me. No clue why."

Harper finally jumped back into the dialogue, despite Tracey Davis' skeptical expression. "Danny, you missed the coolest, scariest thing ever. You know that ghost, right? The one from your home town?"

"Phantom?" Sam's voice said, a little tight with worry.

"Yeah!" Harper turned to face Danny, awe painted all over his face. "He just appeared in the Great Hall, all bloodied up, and then this other thing appears, and they fought!" The boy was really getting into this. "Phantom was already hurt, but he still beat him. Sam and Tucker helped him – say, how did you know about the pumpkin being a seal?"

"We had the same thing happen last year," Sam said quickly. "Saw Phantom do it by himself, and we wanted to help this time."

Graham Pritchard looked uneasy – as did most of the others. "It wasn't very fun at all – I don't know why you're so excited Harper. That ghost – Phantom – he was bleeding. I didn't know ghosts could bleed."

"They can't," Greengrass murmured. "Poltergeists can, however. But it is highly unusual for one to do so. Anything that's strong enough to injure a poltergeist worries me greatly."

Danny really didn't like where this talk was headed.

Sam sensed this as well. "Do you mind, um, giving us a moment? I need to tell Danny and Tucker about something I got in the mail today." The group of Slytherins all looked to her blankly. "It's private," she insisted.

Oh Sam, you wonderful, wonderful person , Danny thought hysterically. I'd hug you, but I'm bleeding a lot, and I don't think you'd want my blood all over your shirt.

The Slytherins actually looked to Danny for confirmation; it was a small act of loyalty that startled him. "Yeah – it's okay. You guys can tell me all about whatever happened later. I'll be right back."

"We'll see you in the library," an anxious Mafalda Ghidora spoke up, her voice breathless.

As the small group left them, Danny made it as far as the nearest empty classroom – which he entered before collapsing on the side of the wall nearest to him. Then he slid down with a wince. "I guess it all got a little exciting, huh?" he managed, blinking away his dizziness.

"Are you okay?"

He shot Tucker a scathing glance.

"…I'll take that as a 'no.' What happened to you dude?"

"Ran into a bunch of Death Eaters, on Dumbledore's suggestion. Defended some werewolves – again, Dumbledore's fault. Fought Fright Knight, which wasn't Dumbledore's fault. And now I feel like crap . Can I get a towel?"

Sam conjured one and handed it to him before Danny could blink. "Thanks," he said slowly and lifted his robes.

It seemed like such a simple action that Danny almost forgot how horrible he looked.

Bright, glowing green tendrils made veins through the rest of the incredibly red blood that was soaking his shirt. It had spread onto his robe, and he grimaced. He needed new clothes now.

…Or he could just use magic to clean off the blood. Duh. I am so bad at this game.

Tucker looked like he was about to faint. Strangely enough, so did Sam. "You still…you're injured? But you're human; it should have disappeared by now!" she cried in a hushed whisper.

"I guess spells that cut you are worse than knives. Or something. I'm not sure – it doesn't really hurt." At the incredibly skeptical looks he was receiving, Danny grumped: "No, really! I can't feel it."

"Well, in the medical world, some people might call that shock ." Sam now looked angrily at his wound. "We need to get you some help. Now."

Danny reached into his pocket and retrieved the salve he had been hiding. "No worries. I've got this stuff – it should help enough for now." He chuckled weakly. If the cut had been any deeper, there would be more than just blood spilling out of him. Danny's face went 'squirk' at the thought. "I just need someone to do the laundry." He gestured to his clothes with his free hand.

Sam seemed to regain herself. "Don't expect me to do it just because I'm the girl, here." She said this with a hint of rebellion, but her cheeks were pink.

Danny simply laughed. After a moment he lifted his shirt again, and blandly began to dab up the blood. It was so strange. He'd never been injured like this – as a ghost or a human – so he'd never been able to see what his blood looked like. Of course, he would have rather found out via a paper cut, or even while using a kitchen knife in a clumsy manner. A large semi-shallow incision to the abdomen wasn't the most pleasant way to discover that sort of thing.

He also noted that while he had been a ghost, it was the opposite: there was a majority of glowing green-ness and less red. Weird.

I really am a freak.

Tucker sat down heavily next to Danny and sighed deeply as Sam began (good-naturedly) to clean his clothes. Magic worked better against blood stains than bleach. "This is so wack," Tucker finally said.

Danny didn't have a good response. Mostly because he agreed.

"I mean, this isn't the same as back home," Tucker continued. "Ghosts wreak havoc and destroy lives – mostly ours. But never like this!"

"Well, we signed up for it – we knew this was going to be dangerous," Sam countered quietly as she Scourgified Danny's clothes absently. She really was excellent with her wand work. "And we can't back down now."

"If I had known that dangerous and deadly were the same thing, I wouldn't have agreed to this," Tucker said mulishly.

Sam hit her fist against the stone floor suddenly (startling Danny), and glared at Tucker. " Danny is the one taking the hits, remember? You sound like you're the one sacrificing himself for the sake of others – but you aren't!"

Tucker flinched, but glared back all the same as he sat up. "I am worried about him more than me! I don't want to lose my best friend! I don't want Danny to die! "

The last word echoed in the empty classroom, and resounded desolately against Danny's ears. He had wanted to intervene like he usually did, but morbid curiosity had held him back. Now he was regretting it.

"Guys, I'm not going to die. Seriously, we've been up against worse before, haven't we?" Myself, for instance? "I'll be alright."

Sam and Tucker looked like they had resolved their differences, but both continued to look forlorn.

A pregnant silence followed, and Danny quickly went back to applying the salve on his now shirt-free stomach. His eyes kept darting to his friends; worried that maybe they were still angry.

Now it was worse. Now they looked depressed.

"Tucker's right," Sam finally spoke. She set aside his now very clean clothes (excluding his pants, obviously). "This is different than back home."

"Sam's right too!" Tuck insisted urgently. "We still had a pretty good idea that it was going to be more…deadly, so we can't back out."

"But," Sam continued, and her voice turned devious. "That just means we're going to have to change the rules."

Danny and Tucker both looked disturbed. "Do I want to know what you have in mind?" Danny asked with a small smile.

"I need to ask around and do more research." She grimaced. "That involves actually listening to that Umbridge woman more closely." Sam tilted her head and wiped the irritation from her eyes with a quick grin. "Luckily we go to a school that happens to have the two people that Voldemort hates the most."

Tucker looked much better already. "Oh right – that Harry Potter kid."

"And Albus Dumbledore," Danny continued, suddenly realizing how important this fact was.

"The two people he hasn't been able to coerce or destroy," Sam affirmed. "Sounds like a beautiful source of information to me."

"They say that the Slytherin house is mostly gunning for this Voldemort." Danny saw his wounds slowly closing and felt a warm, tingling sense of relief. Grabbing the towel again, he cleaned off the ring that hung around his neck. He looked up to Sam as he did this. "But obviously that's not true. We know people who break that mold."

"I suspect Malfoy is someone who goes along with the belief that muggle-borne are scum – since Voldemort feels the same, I'd say that he'd support the Big V." Tucker's input was very true, and for some reason, Danny felt a shiver of discomfort that had nothing to do with ghosts.

Sam sighed, but it wasn't entirely because she was upset. "We need him to talk to us."

" Us ?" queried Danny, holding back a bark of laughter. "None of us could even come close to talking to that stuck up –"

"That's not true." Sam looked him in the eye. "You could."

Danny felt that discomfort turn into disgust. "Oh no."

"Oh yeah," Sam countered, a small sympathetic grin on her lips. "You need to make peace."

"Look, even if I do manage to make him not hate me, he still wouldn't talk to me – I'm muggle-born, i.e. scum, remember?"

Then Danny paused. As the group had met him and carried him off thusly, Malfoy had mentioned something – what was it? He wracked his brain for a moment.

"He didn't think I was muggle-born." The words came out slow and thoughtful.

Tucker choked. "What? But of course you are; your mom and dad have absolutely no wizarding skills whatsoever. Lupin tested them, remember?"

"I know, Tuck," Danny set aside the very bloody towel (which Sam Banished with a vicious swish of her wand) and put a hand to his forehead, trying to regain some balance. "So why would he think otherwise?"

The trio sat in silence, contemplating this curious conundrum.

Sam broke the aforementioned silence with a short gasp. "The Slytherins are in the library. We should go."

Danny felt like giving himself a smack on the back of his head for not remembering, but refrained, as he was sore enough as it was.

A blush highlighted Sam's features for a moment as Danny stood up to slide into his shirt and robe, re-tying his tie around his waist so as to cover up any possible leaks. Strangely enough, the wound continued to remain painless. Ironically, this made Danny more nervous.

Of course, he didn't notice his friend's expression. And for once, neither did Tucker.

In hushed whispers, they quickly came up with answers to any possible questions they might be asked, and headed down towards the library; Sam supported Danny unconsciously as they made their way.

Bartholomew Harper paced urgently, and tried to stem the flow of questions entering his head. The library was dark, and only lit by the dim light of candelabras placed throughout the cavernous room. Whatever light there was available only managed to burn the dark rings around his eyes into a deeper black.

The chaos of the Halloween feast had tapered off into mild panic, which had finally filtered down into hushed whispers and wild theories.

In actuality, Dumbledore had immediately called a halt to all noise when he ordered the prefects to deliver all houses directly to their common rooms. Samantha Manson (the Gryffindor) and Tucker Foley (the Ravenclaw) had, surprisingly, sought them out first. The dark haired girl (with unusual taste in makeup) had ushered all of them away from the confused masses and went searching for their missing friend: Fenton.

Bartholomew had wondered where his friend had disappeared to after lunch that day – and when he had asked around, no one could tell him where he had gone. Even Foley and Manson hadn't had a clue, and had admitted their own worry as to where he was (when he wasn't in class later).

He was starting to suspect foul play when they went to the feast – and Danny was nowhere to be found. The group of Slytherins that had decided to stick by Danny despite it all had immediately taken up a spot on the bottom of the food chain, so no one really talked to them much anymore (Bartholomew had already been used to this). His eyes found Malfoy – and suspicions built until that Phantom character interrupted the meal.

Checking the Room of Requirement had been his idea, actually. No one asked why because they were getting to the point of desperation trying to find him. Something for which Bartholomew was incredibly thankful.

Now it was nearly midnight, but the small rag tag group of snakes couldn't sleep – waiting anxiously for their unexpected, and unusual, friend.

"Maybe he was sleeping in there the whole time," Tracey said in exasperation, finally breaking the boy's habitual movements.

Bartholomew was looking more drawn than usual. There were lines of sleep around his eyes, and he looked paler than Mafalda – which was a feat all by itself. Even when he had been excited earlier, it was a farce compared to his usual exuberance. "It just seems so…weird to me. And dangerous! Especially with that cow Umbridge banning all the student organizations. What if Malfoy had realized what the room really was?" he asked, sounding a bit frantic.

"Malfoy's intelligence is only exceeded by his humility," Daphne said, voice scathing. "I don't think he's capable of realizing the true potential of anything. The Room's power is safe."

"But…he doesn't talk to Danny unless he absolutely has to," Graham said quietly. The lone twelve-year old sounded surprisingly like he belonged – which (Bartholomew noticed) hadn't ever really happened before. "So why then? And how did he know where to find Danny anyway?"

Mafalda sighed and twirled her short, bright red hair. "I don't know – there are too many questions that we can't answer without Danny present."

Daphne shot her shy friend a sly glance, but didn't say anything incriminating. Mafalda blushed lightly.

It was about this moment that their topic of choice hobbled into their section. "You guys picked the most ridiculous place to hide out – the history section? Really?"

Danny's face was pale, but grinning. Bartholomew noticed this first, and commented boldly, "What happened?"

The boy in question shrugged and sidled away from Manson with ease before sitting down. "Took a long trip down some short stairs just as we were coming here. No big deal. I'm inherently clumsy anyway."

"Shouldn't you try to reduce the swelling?" asked Mafalda, who had assumed that he had most likely hurt his ankle or some such thing. She actually looked more concerned about it than Danny did, which Bartholomew inwardly thought suspicious. Danny wasn't normally someone

Danny took out his wand tentatively and looked at it, while both Sam and Tucker smothered their laughter. He glared at them and muttered in annoyance, "I'm afraid I'll just make it worse."

Daphne shook her head. "You truly are abominable with your wand work."

"Maybe it will work this time," Mafalda defended in Danny's place, her voice huffy. "Go on Danny – if anything, we can take you to Madame Pomfrey to fix it."

By the look of skepticism on Danny's face, the boy was obviously against the idea.

Sam grinned and shook her head. "He didn't sprain it – he just landed on it wrong. Nothing to worry about."

Bartholomew took a seat and ran a hand through his hair, confusion written on his face. "Where were you today?"

Danny grimaced. "Sorry I didn't let you guys know. I got an owl from my family and had to make a trip to the bank."

It was so unlike his suspicions and imaginings that Bartholomew blinked in surprise. His head had been filled with so many different ideas that something this simple seemed almost laughable. It took a few moments for it to sink in completely. "Gringotts?"

Danny looked at him again and shook his head with a smile. "Nah – Washington Mutual. It's a muggle bank, and lucky for me, they have a branch in London."

Several blank faces coalesced into comprehension. "I've always wondered about how muggles dealt with monetary funds," Daphne said, a thoughtful expression lighting her eyes.

"It's not that exciting, trust me," Sam interrupted for a moment, her good humor spilling over. "Wizarding banking rocks. You guys have dragons . Beats a security guard any day." She laughed at the image it presented, and garnered a few chuckles.

"How," started Tracey and then stopped. "How did Malfoy find you?"

Danny groaned. "It certainly wasn't because I invited him." The boy smoothed the part of his robes that folded over his stomach and scratched his chin. "I snuck into the Room to catch some Z's and then Harry Potter rushes in asking if I've seen Phantom, and then Malfoy walked in – and I gave up half way through the proceedings and decided it wasn't any of my business."

"Really? So Malfoy followed Potter?"

"Yup," Danny said, sounding more tired than he looked. Bartholomew frowned. "That Harry kid is okay, y'know? Malfoy still wins at being annoying."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "It's a wonder how my sister was ever attracted to Malfoy in the first place."

There was a long, incredulous pause. "Wow," Sam said. "Yuck."

Bartholomew sighed. "Danny, I know you'll think we're just being bothersome by acting this way – but really, let us know when you're going to go off somewhere. There are too many things going on right now for us to be complacent when one of our own goes missing."

Danny, to his credit, looked sheepish and solemn at the same time. "I'm really sorry guys," he lay his palms flat and face-down on the table before him. "That includes Sam and Tucker too." At the mention of their names, the two looked startled. "I don't know the situation well enough here, and I haven't been in England for very long, so I can't even imagine what all of you are going through. We don't have anything like this in America."

Mafalda sat down next to Danny and put her hand over his. "We don't blame you Danny. At all. We were just…worried."

"Most of us believe Potter," Daphne said, with Tracey nodding and Graham looking out from under his bangs. "What he said about the Dark Lord returning…we know enough of the wrong people to know that he's most likely right."

"We've already shown more support then we meant to," Bartholomew said briefly. "Now that the DA is official, and we showed up and signed our names, Potter should know he has supporters in the snake pit."

Sam shook her head, but her eyes rested upon Mafalda's hand placement. "But most of the DA members suspect you're here to spy on them. For Umbridge, if not for yourselves." She received a few hostile looks. "What? I'm just telling it like it is!"

"Sam's right," Tucker spoke up. "The Ravenclaw members think the same thing. Excluding some of us."

"What do you suggest we do?" asked Tracey, raising both her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Well, two things, actually," Sam said, starting to get into the whole 'scheming' thing, a smile lighting her eyes. "Let Danny talk to Malfoy and pretend to be friends with him. No groveling involved, I promise," she added at the irritated look that crossed Danny's face. "He needs to think that you think he's great is all." Danny's expression quickly set itself into unhappiness personified.

Daphne still looked unconvinced. "And number two?"

"You guys need to talk to Hermione. She trusts Danny, but she only sort of recognizes that you guys are not typical. She needs more than that – and then she'll tell Harry."

Daphne's eyes caught Mafalda's, whose own trailed over to raise her eyebrows in Danny's direction. Danny transferred the gaze to Tracey and Graham, and then sighed. "I think it's the best chance to keep people like Malfoy off our collective backs. I mean, don't they say 'keep your friends close…'"

"'And your enemies closer,'" finished Daphne, her lips forming a smirk involuntarily. "Besides, I like Granger. She's smart, and definitely a bleeding heart."

Sam stared. "You like that trait in particular?"

Daphne laughed, but it was kind of empty. "I like it in other people, Manson," she explained, examining her nails.

Tracey smartly stepped into the conversation. "Granger's got a lot of guts. But not the dumb kind that gets most people killed."

Danny's face scrunched up like he was trying not to laugh, and he turned his head. Bartholomew ignored the response for now. "I mean, let's face it. Without Hermione Granger, those guys would have been dead a long time ago," he added.

Tucker was the only one who snorted, but the three Americans smiled simultaneously. The Slytherins all glanced at each other, feeling very much like they had missed out on an inside joke.

The atmosphere was interrupted by Danny, cracking his knuckles and yawning expansively. "Well, I don't know about all you guys, but it's officially past my bed time."

Sam and Tucker practically leapt from their seats, and goodbyes were quickly exchanged. Daphne had made Sam promise to partner with her in potions. Bartholomew was one of the few who recognized the significance of such a demand; Daphne was officially opening up relations with Sam Manson. Merlin willing, they'd actually work well together.

Danny was still hobbling slightly as the group snuck back to the dungeons. Yet the minute Bartholomew caught the other boy's eye, he straightened and pretended like nothing was bothering him. Not for the first time, the fourth year cursed his luck: if only he was a year older. Then he'd be able to interrogate his friend past curfew and not get in trouble for it.

"Still, I'm sorry you missed the lightshow at the Feast," Mafalda was saying in a quiet, but somewhat star-struck voice. "That ghost – no, poltergeist – he was amazing."

Bartholomew had to agree with this. "Scared the bleedin' hell out of Dumbledore for a moment even, I think. Not many things can do that."

"I wonder if Dumbledore really knows everything that goes on in here," Graham said, paranoia showing through. The youngest member of their troupe looked this way and that nervously. "It certainly seems like it."

"What is he supposed to be? Santa Claus?" Danny said and muffled his own snickering.

When there was a significant lack of similar reactions, Danny blinked. "No way. You guys don't know about Santa Claus?"

Mafalda and Tracey both shook their heads. "We do, but," Mafalda started and blushed.

"It's not a name common around these parts," Tracey snarked pleasantly. "Christmas kind of grew on the wizarding community, but the myth of Santa has been lost to the ages," she added, looking mockingly wistful. "Alas!"

Danny blinked several times and sighed. "Lucky."

Bartholomew gaped before coughing. "Wait, was that – envy in your voice?" he asked, incredulous.

Danny's long, drawn face stopped all questions in their tracks, skidding together in his throat. "It's…it's a long story. Let's just say my family is unique. And obsessive. And…. Yeah."

Daphne snickered openly. "I promise, when you're not so dead, I'll ask you again. And you'll have to explain."

Bright blue eyes exuded his concurrent thanks and resentment. "Oh yay. I can't wait. Please, someone keep my enthusiasm in check."

" Absolutum Dominium, " (1) Bartholomew said quietly, watching with tired fascination as the passage opened itself. "You're sarcasm is showing," he added as they collectively hid their grins of agreement.

The group split to traverse and disappear into their respective dorm rooms. They were all long gone before Bartholomew or Danny.

Before Danny slipped away, Bartholomew clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked, all innocent and sleepy looking. Bartholomew wasn't buying it. He would not be denied his final few words because Danny could manage the puppy-dog look.

He took a breath. "I can tell you're really hurt." At this, Danny's eyes widened: the tell-tale universal sign of guilt and surprise. "I don't know what Malfoy did – or whatever happened," he hurried, not wanting to lose momentum. "But when you want to tell me the truth, I'm here. Trust me."

And with that, Bartholomew scurried off. He pretended not to see the look on Danny's face. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Danny wasn't just guilty.

He was scared .

Nick was the one to inevitably wake him from his horrible dreams, and general lack of overall sleep. Danny nearly fell out of bed when Nick grasped through his shoulder, sending freezing tingles up and down his arm.

"Daniel," the ghost whispered as best he could while Danny tried to right himself. He was still off balance from Harper's earlier invitation to talk – he still wasn't sure what to tell him. Despite the fact that it was quickly becoming a necessity, he still hated lying to people that he actually liked. And yes, that did include his parents.

"You can't come get me in here!" Danny hissed, panic – not anger – invading his voice. "Next time tell Dumbledore to just send me an owl." He stood and quietly fixed his bed sheets.

"If those weren't being monitored," Nick continued, gray wisps of him glowing in the darkness. "He would have notified you that way. And there are no portraits in here. Plus, they would have been far too noisy."

Danny refrained from saying anything and stomped – stealthily – out the door of his dorm room, Nick following behind.

After a little awkward silence – which Danny was starting to really feel at home with lately – he gulped. "M'sorry about snapping at you," Danny said once they were outside the dungeons. A quick glance around and he slid into a broom closet, transforming immediately. "It's been a long night."

"You had many of us worried," Nick admitted, and his voice was meeker than usual.

Danny floated casually as they made their way up the castle floors. "I have had worse," he kind of lied. "But yeah, Fright Knight was a surprise."

"Is that what you call him?"

Danny shrugged and grinned. "Only thing he called himself. Times change I guess. You knew him as something different?"

Nick waved to the gargoyle – it rolled its stone eyes at them and hopped aside. Apparently, ghosts didn't need to say the password. Danny assumed it was because they could slip in and out of Dumbledore's office whenever they felt like it, so the whole flying up the stairs and knocking was kind of a formality. "His duties never change," Nick explained. "He's the spirit of Halloween. Samhain – the celebration may shift dates between cultures – but the idea is the same. And 'Fright Knight' as you call him, is that idea personified."

Danny blinked. "So he's not a ghost?"

Nick chuckled, sounding a bit more like his usual self. "Well, technically, neither are you, my dear boy."

White hair whipped around and paused. "I know this'll sound weird to ask," he said, words soft and tentative. Green light reflected off his hands and Danny blinked, sluggishly coming to a stop before Dumbledore's office door. "But, are there others like me? I mean, aside from the one I already know about."

Nick contemplated for a moment. "None that I know of. But you might want to ask the Baron. He's been around much longer than I have." He grinned and turned to head away. "Come visit me at the Astronomy Tower sometime – there's something we'd like to show you."

He opened his mouth to ask what, but Nick had already phased through the nearest wall. Danny's mouth set in a frown, but he sighed and went on ahead, slipping through the door and apparently startling the group gathered there into silence.

"You wanted to see me?" Danny Phantom grimaced only a little as he said this.

Remus was there looking a little bewildered, joined by a serious looking Prof. McGonagall, Prof. Snape, and Albus Dumbledore. A big, black, shaggy dog lay underneath the phoenix's perch, and it looked rather put-out.

"Are you sure you're alright? I was under the impression that spells wouldn't harm you," Remus blurted out before anyone could say anything.

Danny smiled. "I'm a fast healer. Besides – it's only because of my shield that you couldn't hurt me. And intangibility only works for so long before I have to go back to normal," he added, landing on the ground to cease floating up above it.

"Your wounds, I'll admit, looked dreadful," Dumbledore stated, sounding a little concerned. "However, you are a spirit – they couldn't last for too long," he said, inquisitive; like he was asking a question without making one obvious.

"No, they don't usually," Danny answered sheepishly. "Sometimes the more 'mortal' wounds, the worse off I am – which explains last night. But I'm really okay," he insisted, hoping to move away from this topic.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly; it was an expression that always put Danny at unease. "Good to hear. Now – the werewolves. Did you get any chance at all to speak with them?"

"I saved their collective butts," Danny said frankly. "But they were grateful – I mentioned your name, but I didn't say who I was." He had thought, at the time, it was simply because he was being bombarded with potentially deadly spells. Later on, he had realized that deep down, he hadn't wanted the Death Eaters to know who he was at all . The fact that he had thought of that while being attacked said something. He just didn't know what was being said yet.

"They were willing to join the Death Eaters?" asked Remus, sounding a little like he expected the answer to be 'yes.'

"No, actually. They weren't," Danny said, pleased with himself for remembering. "They were completely against it – apparently, they had a new leader or something. He didn't want to, so no one else did."

If anything , Danny thought with some amount of desperation, remembering the young girl-werewolf's face. Let them stay neutral. It's not fair to ask people like them to fight for others who may never accept them for who they are .

Remus looked surprised, but definitely happy. Dumbledore looked like he had already figured this out. Danny wasn't surprised by the latter.

"Who attacked you?" asked Snape with a strange sort of perfunctory tone.

"I don't know – it's not like we exchanged names or anything. All I do know is that they were Death Eaters, just the way you guys described them. And the guy who tried to disembowel me had long blonde hair."

Everyone, even the dog, stilled. The tension, however, dissipated as soon as it had occurred. "Very well done – and I'm sincerely glad you are alright," Dumbledore said, eyes old and weary. "To be honest, when I saw you bleeding in the Great Hall, I feared for you."

Danny blinked. "Well, I am dead," he said despite the fact that it was the biggest half-lie ever. "So I'll just look horrible before I go back to normal." It was an attempt to lighten the feeling of heaviness in the room.

It didn't work well, but it did bring a small smile to Dumbledore's face. "It is simply because you look too human, that's all. Most of the staff believed you were going to…well, disappear somehow. I assured them that was not the case. I'm glad I was correct."

Danny grinned sheepishly. "Nah, I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

The meeting acquitted itself successfully, and Danny made to zip through the castle – literally – to meet up with Nick before he hit the dorms…and all without anyone noticing. He was stopped however, by an odd discussion that lingered in Dumbledore's office.

"What exactly happened yesterday? Nobody tells me anything," came a voice Danny just barely recognized.

Sirius Black .

He immediately stilled outside the door, and stuck his head through. Invisibility and curiosity with the addition of intangibility, Danny had realized, was one of the best combinations ever .

"We had heard it was a Death Eater attack; obviously that was merely a cover for their true intentions," Dumbledore spoke with patience. "They wished to gather the nearby werewolf society, previously known as Gunnerkrig pack, into their fold. I am no longer sure what they call themselves presently."

"New Alpha?" asked Remus in a somewhat mild voice. It sounded subdued to Danny. He remembered during the meeting just moments before, how Remus looked really sick, with deep dark circles under his eyes. He wondered idly if there was some sort of bug going around.

"According to Phantom, they have a new leader," Dumbledore explained to Sirius – whom Danny had no idea how he had gotten in there so quickly; he simply chalked it up to magic and let it be, not wanting to think about it at the moment. "And I believe Phantom managed to at least let them know that we are as receptive to their needs – more so even, than Voldemort."

"He did not sound so confident," Snape said, and there was a deep note of resentment within his voice. Danny wasn't entirely sure, but he had the faint notion that Snape's displeasure wasn't directed at him.

"I have faith in him," Dumbledore's words were the last on the subject, and Danny was inherently surprised – as he was whenever anyone other than Jazz, Tuck, or Sam spoke up in his defense. He simply wasn't used to it.

"If there is anything you need from me Albus," Sirius' deep, weary voice shook Danny out of his pleasant daze. "Let me know."

Snape's displeased gaze only rested on Sirius, Danny noticed. "When we wish for the services of the house elf you have so nobly commandeered, we will inform you."

Remus put a hand on Sirius' shoulder; the man had just begun to lurch forward, an angry expression on his face. Danny realized with a sudden start that Remus must be a lot stronger than he looked. "Don't you two start," the pale-faced man bit out, his voice broaching absolutely no argument. "We've got enough on our plate as it is."

By the startled looks on both Sirius and Snape (though Snape looked much less so), Danny swiftly concluded that this wasn't typical Remus Lupin behavior.

Abruptly, Danny felt like he had overstayed his welcome. Especially since Dumbledore had stilled and looked like was going to turn around – which would have him facing Danny directly. And, as Danny so wonderfully recalled, Dumbledore had no issues with seeing through invisibility.

Danny quickly left the party; and made his way out of the corridor.

Well, that was interesting. He knew Sam and Tuck would kill to hear about his new little observations. He insisted to himself that he wasn't spying – just, you know, checking up on his current 'employers.' Sadly, enough time had passed that Danny no longer trusted first and asked questions later.

Danny flew down to the dungeons, contemplating his various current situations. It was a sluggish mess that managed to pull itself in Danny's bed; his brain was utterly useless.

Hopefully the next few hours of sleep – not nightmares, just sleep – would give him some clarity.

He managed to keep his injury off, or under, the radar. This was amazing, considering how Harper kept shooting him suspicious looks and asking if he was really okay – and he still didn't know what to say. Plus, the Slytherin House was full of well diverted suspicion; most of which was diverted in his direction at all times, injury or not.

But now he was faced with an oddly annoying dilemma. Malfoy kept trying to talk to him, in furtive ways that made it seem like he didn't want to be seen talking to the mudblood , which just made Danny laugh and laugh. So he couldn't ignore him like he used to. Danny really hated that Sam brought up the idea, even though it was a perfectly good one. But he had told her that if he tried to suck up to the slime ball now , it would seem too obvious. Luckily, he hadn't seen Malfoy since early this morning. Amen for small favors.

While Danny was concentrating very hard on this problem, he stumbled across another. Literally. In the middle of the hallway.

"Ow," Danny mumbled into the stone floor. Despite his – hah – magical healing abilities, he was still sore from getting his butt handed to him the day before.

"Oh sorry – Danny!"

Hermione sounded surprised and worried and distracted. Not that this was something new or anything.

He took her offering of a hand up, and stumbled to his feet. "Sorry Hermione. I wasn't paying attention."

Hermione shot him a wide-eyed expression of concern. "Where on earth were you yesterday? You had everyone worried sick!"

Danny grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Everyone?"

Hermione managed a strained smile. "Alright, mostly me and your friends," she clenched her fist. "But we're the ones who matter anyway. Now where were you?"

"It wasn't anything horrible – I just had to go to a bank; a muggle bank, before you ask. Just something I needed to transfer from my parents' account." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

The girl nearly melted with relief. "That's all?"

"I'm sorry I didn't get chance to tell anyone," Danny said, while panicking unhappily in the back of his brain. "But it was sort of sudden."

Her eyes were downcast. "I had thought something horrible had happened. I'm just so used to my friends, people I know…well," she paused and shuddered. "Times are very strange and fearful for most of us. I was just worried about you."

For a moment, he was strongly reminded of last night, with the other Slytherins. Then, Danny smiled goofily. As a teenage boy, it was nice to hear a girl say that. Sam was included in that, but it was different coming from Hermione – she hadn't known him for very long.

"Well, thanks, I'm sorry I worried you."

Hermione smiled and prepared to go on her way, before she stopped and looked at him thoughtfully.

"What?" Danny asked, confused by her sudden staring – and a little unnerved.

"Nothing," she said at last. "Did you happen to, ah, say anything to Harry yesterday? He seems a little put off."

Oh, that was the other thing that had been bothering him. "Oh, uh, yeah, I might have."

Apparently, Hermione was expecting this answer. "It's alright, I'm very sure it wasn't by intention that you made him upset."

Privately, Danny thought she sounded like someone he knew – Jazz forcefully came to mind. So Hermione was to Harry Potter like Jazz was to him. Disturbing.

"Yeah, well, Malfoy asked if we knew each other, and I said 'no' kinda, uh, forcefully. I didn't mean it like I hated him or anything; I was just trying to explain that I just didn't know him that well."

Hermione blinked. "Well, that explains a lot. You know, I should really have the two of you sit down and talk – apparently, he only seems to get the wrong end of whatever you say."

Danny's eyes went half-mast. "I get that a lot."

Her expression spoke volumes. "It's really – I mean – he's been going through some really hard things lately. A lot of things." She actually chuckled a little. "At least I know you weren't being nasty on purpose. Honestly, he puzzled me as well. I thought that you two didn't know each other."

"We don't," Danny said firmly. "Not that I wouldn't mind being friends or anything. I wouldn't – I mean, you like him."

Hermione smiled winningly. "I'm glad you have such faith in my judgment of character."

Danny grinned back. "Well, you have a lot of faith in mine."

Hermione began walking with him into the Great Hall. Lunch had been imminent for quite some time now. "I am a friend of yours, am I not? Therefore, it would only make sense if I had good faith in your choices."

Danny actually laughed and pushed open the doors. "It's too bad we have to sit at our House tables. Otherwise, I'd just join Tuck or Sam – or you – for lunch." The loud noises of chatter battered his ear drums, and absently, he looked for Harper and the others.

"You know, there's never been a rule which explicitly states that you must. I believe it's mostly the houses that separate themselves naturally."

Danny spotted Tucker and waved to him to come over. "Then do you mind if a few of us join you for lunch?"

Hermione stared at him and then smiled brilliantly. "Of course! I – I mean, of course I don't mind!" The girl looked like Christmas had come early. "Let me go make room."

She rushed off in a flurry of brown hair, and Danny turned his attention to Tucker, who had arrived looking confused.

"You're late to lunch – how're you feeling?"

"Much, much better. That salve worked wonders. Do you want to sit at Gryffindor's table today?"

Tucker just shrugged, but he looked extremely pleased. "As long as it doesn't get us in trouble, I'm good for it."

Bartholomew Harper's head came into view, and Danny waved half-heartedly. His mind was still revolving around their last few words together. "Just asked Hermione – she said there had never been a rule against it," he affirmed.

The dark grey-haired boy in Slytherin robes nearly zoomed over to Danny. "What's going on?" he asked, giving Danny a significant Look.

Tucker answered, oblivious, but thankfully in a helpful way. "Danny's going to be randomly rebellious and sit at the Gryffindor table. You in?"

Bartholomew suddenly looked as if he had swallowed a lemon. "You're joking."

"Not really," Danny said, still smiling a half-smile. "There's no rule that says we can't. I just thought it'd be a nice change, not having Malfoy hovering nearby."

At the mention of the absence of Malfoy, the boy brightened considerably, although his anxious glances towards the Slytherin table didn't go unnoticed. "Are you sure about this?"

Danny nearly threw his arms up in frustration. "What's the big deal? I'm just sitting with my friends! All of them, preferably. Come on," he pointed towards the empty space being made by Hermione's shooing motions.

He spotted Ron Weasley easily, and the boy sort of just glared obstinately. Danny just gave a mental shrug and grinned at everyone before sitting down. Bartholomew on his right, Tucker and Hermione on his left, respectively; Sam ran and sat down opposite him, her face one big grin. Bast, her small black kitten was, for once, with her, perched daintily on her shoulder while looking as imperious as any cat usually did.

Danny blinked. Sam made a quick 'peace' sign and nodded to the other people down the table.

He followed her nod and gave pause.

He hadn't really noticed the complete and utter shock at his (and Bartholomew's) presence.

In typical Danny Fenton fashion, however, he completely ignored them. Sam was starting really be a good influence on his 'not-caring-what-other-people-think' reflex.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Bartholomew said nervously. "Let's just slowly walk away…."

"You were the one brave enough to try out for the seeker position despite Malfoy's influence," Danny muttered sotto voice. "Why are you chickening out now?"

Tucker had started some conversation with Sam about classes, and Danny overheard something interesting. "…So I'll be able to listen to my music now. If you give me your flash drive, I could wrangle something."

Danny looked back at Bartholomew, and his worried expression. "Look, just play it cool, and if anyone gives you trouble…."

Bartholomew interrupted, wary, "Tell them to bugger off?"

"Well, there's that," Danny agreed. "But you could just wait for the right moment and sic Hermione on them."

A truly evil smile lit Bartholomew's face and he finally started to eat, his worries dissipating for now. Danny noticed that the boy looked several times worse than he had a few days previous. Daphne had mentioned that Bartholomew had even arranged to go to the infirmary for the coming weekend. Something about it didn't sit well with Danny, but he didn't have the attention span to worry about it; he only hoped that Bartholomew wasn't hiding anything that could lead to something much worse.

"What's this about flash drives?" Danny asked Tucker instead, acutely aware of the leaning of heads in the direction of their not-so-quiet conversation. He also noticed that even Harry Potter had paused in eating his lunch, a quiet, albeit mulish expression on his face.

"I know Dumbledore said that magic didn't work together with our technology," Tucker launched into his explanations with enthusiastic fervor. "But I noticed that the ghost energy that my PDA integrated with makes it run, uh, forever. I mean it," he said, noticing Sam's incredulous look. "I haven't had to charge it since we got it back – I mean, since I found it after the last ghost attack."

Danny looked impressed. They had last met up with Skulker several months ago. "Nice."

"So when I plugged it into my laptop," Tucker was on a roll now. Danny could tell by the eerie, but somewhat familiar, light in his eyes. "Somehow the energy transferred. I'm still working on the how and the why – but I know one thing for sure." He beamed. "My baby is working!"

Sam shook her head. "Your obsession is downright creepy."

"This coming from the Goth chick," Tucker looked haughty.

It was amazing how well those two had assimilated. Danny absolutely reveled in how normal this all was in comparison to last night, when he was wading through his own blood.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. But it certainly was nice to have his friends maintain some sort of normalcy. If you could call being a wizard, a half-ghost, and miles from any sort of home normal.

Daphne and Mafalda joined the table a few minutes later. Mafalda kept shooting looks of wary discomfort down the table – but Danny couldn't tell exactly who she was looking at.

It was about this time that things took a turn.

Sam was discussing something very interesting with a girl named Lavender, Danny thought possibly animal rights, when he spasmed with a sudden chill that felt eerily like his ghost sense, but somehow wasn't. The spoon he was holding fell from his fingertips with a loud clang.

The wide-eyed look on his face probably gave away his surprise. "Danny?" asked Sam, who had been paying attention, though he hadn't noticed. "Are you okay?"

This was typical Sam behavior – masking an out for him by using concern. It was a good tactic, even if the concern was real.

"I'm f-fine," Danny stuttered, ushering more worry onto Sam's face than was necessary. "Just got c-c-cold all of a sudden." He subtly made to gather his things.

"It feels fine to me," Harper murmured, chewing while he spoke. "No ghost just passed by, did it?" he asked Mafalda, who shook her head in a negative way.

Danny would be damned if worry and concern weren't contagious. "I'm fine, s-seriously." He shuddered violently again and rubbed his arms for warmth. Unfortunately, he felt cold radiating from the inside out, so maybe the rubbing arm trick wouldn't work this time.

Sam and Tucker's eyes were on him. Unfortunately, the gazes of everyone who was sitting within a few feet of him were also fixated. Danny decided, wisely, that now might be a good time to leave.

He started to gather his things. "B-but maybe I s-sh-should put on s-something warmer."

"Maybe you should visit Madame Pomfrey," came the small, unexpected voice of …oh, darn. Danny wracked his brain in order to remember it. Kind of a round face…good with plants…ah ha!

"N-no," he told Neville Longbottom with a somewhat shaky grin. "I hate going to the n-nurse's office. But th-thanks."

A quick grin thrown over his shoulder, and Danny hurried out of the Great Hall at abnormally fast speeds.

What the heck was up? Seriously! He knew he wasn't sick, or coughing and/or sneezing – heck, even a strong headache – would have alerted him earlier. Plus, this really did feel a lot like his ghost sense, even though he knew all the ghosts in the school by their ecto-signature already. And any new ghosts would have shown up to gloat by now.

He shivered and clutched his robes closer together. Sincerely, Danny hoped this wasn't some sort of new freaky thing related to his powers. This wasn't exactly a good time for him.

"Fenton! Wait up!"

His whole body kind of twitched to a stop. Currently, his brain was wracking itself for an answer as to why that voice sounded familiar. "W-what is it?" he asked, not bothering to hide his current crankiness.

"No need to get your knickers in twist," Vaisey (ah, that's why he sounded familiar) came up and took a few deep breaths. "You know you're pretty fast on the ground too."

"Huh, n-never n-noticed."

Vaisey slapped his hand into his fist and beamed. "Sorry to bother, but I had to tell you this in person. You kind of ran out of the Great Hall before I could snag you. But it's good news, I suppose."

Danny felt the heavy foreboding presence of Murphy surround him, and he gulped. "What's the n-news?"

"Malfoy's out of commission."

There was a moment's pause. "H-how? Is he sick?" His voice didn't contain any glee whatsoever – nope. Ixnay on the happiness. Oh who was he kidding – this was awesome!

Vaisey shrugged. "There was some sort of confusion last night, and Malfoy stepped into the wrong hallway. Apparently it had been rigged to catch some Gryffindors, but…well." The boy grinned widely. "The end result is the same either way."

Danny tilted his head to the side for a moment. "Well, I c-can see why you're h-h-happy." Huh, that might be why he wasn't at breakfast or lunch today. "B-but why are you t-telling me?"

Vaisey shook his head. "Well, I suppose without Malfoy, we're short a Seeker for tomorrow's game." He raised his eyebrows. "And since you're our reserve Seeker, I suppose that means you're in for tomorrow aren't you?"

Honestly, after Prof. Umbridge declared that all student organizations were to be canceled, Danny had focused more on the DA than anything else. He supposed he should have remembered Quidditch, considering he was technically on the team.

Danny's heart froze, right along with the rest of him. "B-buh. But I'm n-not!" He stuttered and ran a hand through his hair. "I haven't even p-practiced with the whole t-team yet – how can I p-play?"

Vaisey put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, I hate to be the bearer of terrible news, but you're going to have to find a way. Otherwise I think our Beaters might, er, beat you instead." He straightened, surprisingly much taller than Danny had remembered. "Also, Montague is still in with Madame Pomfrey, so he doesn't have to know right away."

Danny felt the tendrils of terror wrap around his ankles, threatening to pull him under. "M-Malfoy's really in that b-bad shape?" he asked, knowing that Malfoy occasionally milked his injuries for all they were worth.

"Let's just say they're still looking for him."

Danny gaped. "Wait – what?"

Vaisey looked like he might start whistling innocently if given the proper motivation. "When I said 'hole' I meant it literally." He waved a book in Danny's face. "Anyway, take a look at this, learn the rules, and let me know if you've got any questions. I'll be around if you need help." He looked at the book thoughtfully. "Also, talk to Harper. He's a fanatic about the sport; there's no way you could go wrong by asking him questions too."

Glumly, Danny took the book from Vaisey's grip and stared blankly off into the empty hallway. He shivered again and nearly dropped the blasted thing.

Vaisey couldn't miss this. "You sick?" he asked, his voice much more serious. "Because you should tell me right now if you are."

"It's-s not – I mean, I'm n-not s-s-sick." Danny folded his arms over his chest, gripping the book in his right hand. "J-just cold."

His only companionable room mate stared at him, and squinted his eyes. "…Alright." Vaisey rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me if anything changes." Turning, he started making his way back to the Great Hall. "Oh! And you'll be using Malfoy's broom – it's the only good replacement we've got. And, heh, he's not going to notice."

With that uplifting statement, Vaisey ran off. Danny felt like his world was doing cartwheels around his head. He refrained from punching something and marched off to the dungeons to get some sweaters. Yes, that was a plural.

This , Danny thought mulishly as he shivered himself into the coldest part of the castle, really bites.

Jazz had hoped it wouldn't have come to this.

A few quick keystrokes and she had unlocked all of Danny's files on his regular, and irregular, ghostly nemeses. There were too many that fell under the 'only Danny can fix this' pile, which she had been keeping track of in her head, but there were some she could probably handle by herself.

Ugh, she thought glumly, wishing that someone else was doing this besides Valerie Gray. The girl was good – no doubt about it, but she was still working for Vlad, which automatically put her in the ambivalently bad category of people to join forces with. Plus, Valerie didn't like Danny.

Jazz had issues with people who didn't like Danny. Liking only half of him didn't count. Which was why her parents often drove her crazy.

But enough about that .

"Mom? Do you have a spare Thermos?" she called as she ran upstairs from the lab.

There was a loud leaky explosion, which sounded more muffled than sharp. Jazz assumed there was ecto-gooey stuff involved. "Mom?" she asked, this time with a distinctly doomed inflection.

"Hey sweetie," Maddie said, voice mildly irritated. "Your father set off one of the Ecto-Alarms. No need to fret."

"Aw, but Maddie!" Jack's voice rang out from the living room, despite the thick coating of green, slowing slime. "I just wanted to test it!"

Jazz sighed. In a loving manner. "I was just wondering what…" she paused. "What…you were doing?" She had spotted one Fenton Thermos just lying on the table. The light was off, so it was 'unoccupied.' She quickly took it while Maddie and Jack oozed out of their predicament.

"We're sending Remus Lupin the parts necessary to build a ghost portal," Maddie finally explained. "I already sent the blueprints over a while back, but they don't have anything resembling the required parts." Absently, the woman cleaned her goggles with an overused paper towel.

"Wait – you're sending them a ghost portal? Are you serious?" Jazz asked, eyes wide.

"Well yes dear," Maddie replied with a grin. "I trust Remus, and I know Danny is fond of him. I highly doubt anything terrible will come of this. Besides, we still owe him a great deal; finding out Danny was a wizard, of all things." She gently moved Jack, who was protesting the idea of cleaning up the mess, into the kitchen, and turned back to Jazz. "The inclusion of magic into our research as well – we've made such significant progress! Our benefactors have nearly doubled their grants in response."

Ah yes. The grants. Jazz knew it was their only source of income, at the moment; and that lately – what with Dalv Industries (yet another reason she heavily disliked Vlad Masters), Axiom Labs, and whatever company the Guys in White used to supply their anti-ghost weaponry – these grants had been coming less and less. This changed very recently, when both Maddie and Jack had figured out alternative ways to power their weapons with less expensive and more efficient forms of energy. Now the fund money was practically rolling in, allowing her parents more creative freedom. As well as allowing them to eat real food – not the horrible, horrible things that her mom or dad managed to create.

So, despite the fact that their success was really excellent news, Jazz's right eye twitched violently. Wizards, plus the Color-by-Numbers Guide to Building Your Very Own Ghost Portal? This was bad news in the making. In her head, Jazz felt a cog come loose and fall to the base of her skull, rolling in circles lazily like a coin. "But, what if they mess it up and something explodes! We know what happens when you forget to clean the ecto-filter," Jazz said, just on this side of hysterical.

"Hon, relax," Maddie stressed, putting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "We've included very simple instructions. They should be able to figure it out, no problem."

Jazz remembered Remus Lupin and the Dishwasher Debacle, and shuddered. It did not bode well in regards to their response to anything of a higher technology than a toaster.

Plus, what was Danny going to do? The attacks on Amity Park had lessened while he had been gone – probably for nefarious reasons perpetuated by Vlad Masters; the last one she'd seen out in public had been Wulf: and he was one of the good ones. Still, Jazz couldn't help but imagine would it would be like if the ghosts of the ghost zone figured out where Danny was and went after him there. The idea made her grimace.

"Jazz, honey? Are you alright?"

"Fine," she squeaked out and edged backwards. "Just fine. Um. I'm gonna go write a letter to Danny. You want to add something?"

Maddie beamed. Jazz swore she saw tears. "Oh of course! Jack!" she called. "Can you get the Ecto-Stimulator? I want to send a sample to Danny."

"Right away!" came the distant echo of Jack's voice. He had escaped the cleaning, and Maddie – realizing this – sighed.

"Go on," she waved her hand in Jazz's direction. "Let me know when you're done, and we'll add our bit."

Jazz gladly took the out, and escaped to her room, where she inevitably got caught online by Valerie Gray.

She had thought it might be wiser to keep tabs on Valerie, just in case. They had actually become pretty good acquaintances. The girl wasn't all bad. Just…hurt. And still hurting. Nothing evil about that.

Grey_Skies: I still can't believe he's in England. Or was it Scotland?

FreudWasWrong: Yup. Trust me, I barely believe it myself. And he's in Scotland. Might as well be Timbuktu for my parents.

Grey_Skies: I think Dash might be missing his favorite punching bag.

FreudWasWrong: Poor baby.

FreudWasWrong: Do you think Danny'd be surprised to hear that everyone at school actually misses his presence? If only to start teasing him again….

Grey_Skies: Definitely. Danny has self-esteem issues.

Grey_Skies: Not that I'd know much about his issues or anything. Just saying.

Jazz simply grinned.

Grey_Skies: I miss all three of them a lot. Sam and Tuck aren't exactly my friends, but they're good people.

FreudWasWrong: Plus, Sam's sarcasm is like, a rare gem.

Grey_Skies: Been on the receiving end of it. I know, trust me.

TechTuck has signed on.

Request Invite: TechTuck wishes to join.

She choked and tried to compose herself. Was that really Tucker?

Only one way to find out….

Request Accepted .

TechTuck: Yes! It worked!

Grey_Skies: Tucker Foley?

TechTuck: Who wants to know?

FreudWasWrong: Tuck, was there something you wanted? …Or are you drinking Jolt Cola again? Don't you remember the last time you did that?

TechTuck: All I remember was the insane amount of fun me and Danny had with your doll collection. I think I still have pictures.

TechTuck: And who's Grey anyway?

Grey_Skies: That would be Valerie Gray to you, Foley.

Jazz took note of the long pause and didn't even bother to smother her laughter.

FreudWasWrong: Well that's not awkward.

TechTuck: Nice to finally learn your SN Val! I'll just add you cuz I can. And I kinda am barging in here – but I just wanted to see if my internet connection worked.

FreudWasWrong: You're having issues over there?

Grey_Skies: Well, for Tucker, I suppose whatever those issues are, they're not a big deal, right?

Aw, Val was so cute when she was awkwardly apologizing via a compliment.

TechTuck: Thanks … I, uh, am kind of hacking here. The nearest wireless is ages away, so I had to get creative.

FreudWasWrong: Don't tell me! Remember the whole plausible deniability clause that we've established Tuck.

Grey_Skies: So, what's Scotland like? What classes are you taking?

TechTuck : It's cool. Like wet, and rainy cool. But it's…nice-looking I guess.

TechTuck : And I'm taking, like, the same classes we took at Casper; just taught better, I think.

Grey_Skies : Unfair. I want a random scholarship to study at a better school.

TechTuck : No doubt you'll get one.

FreudWasWrong : Of course you'll get one Val. You've been working your butt off lately.

Grey_Skies: Not much of a choice, really. But thanks. You too Tucker.

TechTuck: Sadly, I gotta run. Danny's followers are trying to look over my shoulder and that might get weird.

Grey_Skies: Danny has followers? What now?

TechTuck: Don't ask. It's a long story.

FreudWasWrong: Tell Danny I'm sending a letter! Mom and Dad got something they wanna test, so they're letting him have a sample. Tell him also, that I have no idea what it is, so be prepared.

Grey_Skies : Wow. You guys don't even have email?

TechTuck : It's a dark, dark world out here Val. Like, Dark Ages dark.

TechTuck : And I'll tell him Jazz. Hopefully he'll be able to get online too – we've only got one laptop between us, so…yeah.

TechTuck : Seeya both later!

FreudWasWrong : ttyl Tuck.

TechTuck has left the conversation. TechTuck signed off.

It wasn't long after that that Jazz declared she had serious papers to finish – to which Valerie heartily agreed – and they both went their separate ways.

Jazz took out the parchment she had bought from a stationary store, and set up her ink and quill neatly on her desk. Sue her if she wanted to get into the spirit of the wizarding world. If she couldn't learn magic, then she was determined to learn their customs. It was Jazz's way.

Hopefully Danny's doing alright over there , she thought as she started to write. It's a bit…lonely at home without him. She paused in her writing and smirked. Besides, he's the only one who's any good in the kitchen besides me – and I'm not that good.

Darkness hit the sky before she was done.

Chapter Text

Vlad hadn't believed it the first time. In fact, he remembered laughing and then asking one of the vultures, again, what had happened.

The vulture proceeded to hack in contempt, and tell him exactly the same story.

After another bought of fitful laughter, bordering on the slightly hysterical, he calmed down once more and dismissed his servant.

Daniel was a wizard.

Just for sanity's sake, he repeated the sentence again.

This couldn't be possible. Although the idea of being two creatures at once wasn't entirely in the realm of reality as most people knew it – Vlad just couldn't believe it. A 'wizard' prep school, a boarding school, in Scotland ?

Apparently Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley were also of the same ilk, and had joined him there. This was far too coincidental for his liking; as well, it boded long hours of research and bribery ahead.

Vlad started searching in the conventional channels, hurriedly calling and emailing several of his contacts that lay in the shadowy border between the normal world and the not-so normal world. All he had received so far were vague indications that maybe – just maybe – his ghostly informant was correct.

In the end, after a few weeks of fruitless searching, Vlad had found only barely substantial rumors at best.

It was infuriating . He wanted proof .

The Fright Knight was currently trapped in a pumpkin, which was not at all helpful in regards to obtaining precise information. But the vultures had been following him on Vlad's orders, and thus, had known exactly where he went and what he had done. They didn't tell him the details of what happened, but they knew that the place they had visited was home to magic, pure and simple. Vlad didn't control the Vultures so much as he used them, and occasionally, they agreed to be used. They were old enough spirits to be regarded as truthful, if not consistent; so when they spoke of a wizarding school over a millennia old, with present-day students and Daniel being one of them …he had to take them seriously.

Though it needed tinkering, his new creation – Plasmatic – had been wonderfully useful. The hypnotic serum specifically designed to control ghosts, and subtly include a weakness for subliminal messages, had done its job beyond perfection. The Knight hadn't even known he was being manipulated – his mind purposely blanked while Vlad himself had murmured the induction. Vlad's intended influence was small, but the desire to find Daniel was insanely strong, and had forced the Knight to lead him (after several false starts, and months of fruitless searching) directly to the intended target.

"Did you know which portal Fright Knight used?"

"It occurred naturally, just outside of the Amity Park city limits, sweetums," the recorded, sugar-coated voice of Maddie Fenton repeated. If it was possible for a digital entity to sound exasperated….

"Is there any way to re-open the portal, and keep it open for further use?"

"Of course sugar-cookie! One would need to find the correct coordinates; secure the leylines – finding where they intersect, and then create another ghost portal!" She sounded so chipper; it made Vlad feel less murderous. But what she had described sounded impossible, even with his current inventions.

"So is it possible to recreate his journey exactly ?" Vlad asked, curious in any case. If he couldn't do it himself, perhaps someone else could.

Psuedo-Maddie frowned prettily. "Not quite. Natural Portals are finicky. In order to perfectly replicate it, you would need someone, or something, that has the ability to rip holes between this world, and others that exist outside the scope of our influence. You would also need someone who is used to traveling in such a manner especially. Buttercup, you are brilliant, but in order to navigate between dimensions, you'll need experience."

Vlad paced impatiently, but his eyes widened with some sort of revelation. "I think I know exactly where to start looking," he said in a tone that made lesser men want to flee.

And with a dark flash of light, Vlad Plasmius swooped into his ghost portal, red eyes alight with determination.

You won't escape me for long, Daniel, I swear it.

Sam was staring at her books, quill in hand, as the minutes ticked by. No work was getting done, but she was stubborn enough to try anyway.

Her thoughts were a mess, muddled with irritation and worry, coupled with the strong urge to hit something and watch it limp away. Danny's situation (see: the gash along his stomach, and the fact that he had felt no pain whatsoever) had made her intensely suspect, and she wasn't able to vent her frustrations on anyone who would really understand or be allowed to know. Sam licked her lips and let her head fall forward onto the wooden desk. The thud was audible to people across the common room, and had obviously startled a few people she hadn't noticed before.

"Sam?"

Hermione's bustling was noticeable, even before she spoke. Papers fluttered onto her haphazard stack of parchment, and Sam sat up to move them aside. "Hey Hermione," she said, voice oddly listless.

Hermione noticed. She always noticed. "I saw how much work you had left, and I thought I'd take some time to help out, if you don't mind."

"Thanks," Sam didn't rub her eyes for fear of dragging eyeliner down her face. "Some of this stuff McGonagall mentioned today made no sense to me at all. Transference wasn't this difficult when you taught us," she grumbled.

The other girl smiled. "You're still catching up," she said. "It makes sense that not everything makes sense. I wouldn't worry about it too much – as long as you don't fall behind." She reached over and grabbed a book lying open-faced on its spine. "There's a section in here about it, if you want to know more. It could help with your essay."

Sam grabbed the book eagerly. "Thanks," she said again, and raked her eyes over the small, shaded text. Candlelight had never been more infuriating. But she loved the atmosphere that it created so much; she didn't bother to worry about practicality. "You taking a break from scolding the wonder twins?"

Hermione made a significant mood change. "Yes." Anger held itself in her voice. "It's dangerous to give the unknowing masses unstable, untested magic. You don't find their irresponsibility at all harmful?" There was an identifiable edge to her voice now.

Sam smiled, quickly recovering from mood whiplash. "It's not as bad as some, but you're right. Contracts should be signed, precautions taken, and you should be able to oversee their work, in case of a major disaster."

Hermione blinked. "Oversee? But this isn't a good thing that they're doing, it's –"

"Profitable, in more ways than one." Sam was firm on this. "Look, these are the twins we're talking about. They're going to do this whether you want them to or not." Her limited experience with being with them in the same room, and watching as they pulled their pranks and tested their material, had given her some insight on their intentions. "Plus, they're good at what they do. If I were you, I'd ask to have a hand in it. That way, they'll remember not to overstep their boundaries, and they'll also be thankful to you. Who knows? They might become famous for their inventions. They'll remember you when they're successful." Plus, she liked them rebelling against The Man. It made her all darkly happy inside.

An open-mouthed silence accompanied Hermione's surprise. "I – I honestly never thought about it that way." Her face twisted. "But they're breaking so many rules and endangering the first years…."

"And they do it for the best cause imaginable," Sam said, pretending to read the tomb in front of her. "Fun. You do like fun, don't you Hermione?" she teased.

Pained was the best word to describe the other girl's expression. "Of course I like fun."

"Well, she says this, but really, the definition of 'fun' for Hermione might involve more revision and less Quidditch or something." Ron's helpful chime-in from across the room was not exactly good timing, but Sam couldn't help the smile that spread over her face at the idea. Harry's laughter had accompanied the statement.

"That is not true!" Hermione was almost entering desperate here. "Not necessarily Quidditch , I mean," she continued, her voice firming. "But I'm not all work and no play."

Sam practically leapt out of her seat. Then she paused, wondering if Hermione even knew she had made a Stephen King reference.

"Because that makes Jack a dull boy," she murmured instead, actually trying to read this time.

Hermione looked at her curiously after a moment or two of laughter and quiet discussion between the Three (or the Golden Trio, some said – Sam couldn't use the popular term because it left an odd taste in her mouth). Sam realized, albeit slowly, that she was being immersed into Hermione's small group of friends, and hung out with them at lunch whenever Tucker was hiding and Danny was surrounded by his posse (she still snickered at this). She wasn't one for constant exposure to other people (Danny and Tuck never counted), but Sam had found it oddly comforting to still have people she could talk to, even here, in a different country (a different world, more like). And thinking about home hurt her for several different reasons. Ignoring the pain was a lot easier than dwelling on or dealing with it.

"When did you say you had detention?" Hermione's voice was hardly heard over new chatter in another part of the room, but Sam still figured it out.

"Ugh, that. Yeah, next weekend."

Hermione looked very worried, simultaneously vibrating with rage. "I really hate that woman."

Sam said nothing. Well, maybe not nothing . "Me too," she joined the bandwagon of Hating Dolores Umbridge, for good reason.

"I'm just glad she doesn't know about S.P.E.W." Hermione said in unhappy tones.

"Spew?"

Hermione sighed, like she had done this several exasperating times before. "No, not spew . S.P.E.W. Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare. My project to help the house elves out of slavery; as long as it stays underground, I'm sure I won't hear anything about it from Professor Useless."

Oh did Sam's ears perk up then. "What do you mean slavery?" she asked, setting her book down.

"I didn't tell you about this?" Hermione looked like a light bulb, she had brightened so much.

"No," Sam said slowly. "You have to explain the whole slavery thing to me, because that? Hopefully not the same slavery I'm thinking of."

Hermione explained. Sam got angry.

"So it is the sort of slavery you were thinking of," Hermione concluded.

Sam took it all in for a moment. "Does this have anything to do with those things you leave around – I mean the things you were knitting?" It came out a little less tactful than she would have liked, but it worked.

"Yes! But none of them have touched them, so far." Hermione made a little noise of sad irritation.

"Tell you what," Sam said with determination. "I'll look into it some more, and I'll join your club. They've been brainwashed, obviously – through centuries of forced servitude. Do you know their origins?" she asked, the homework completely forgotten.

"They aren't very well-mentioned in the books about magical creatures. Even Hagrid's book is vague."

A fluttering look of sadness came over Hermione's visage when 'Hagrid' was mentioned.

Sam fought herself on whether to pry, or to continue onward with the previous conversation. She decided to go for the latter…sort of. "Well, I'll help you out when I can." She looked down at her somewhat empty parchment, and sighed, putting her things back into her black leather bag. "Let's go sit by the fire. I haven't actually done that today, and I need the warmth," Sam said, trying to dredge Hermione from the depths of her own mind.

It worked. "Have you played wizard's chess?" the other girl asked, suddenly smiling. "It's something of an education."

Harry wasn't working, though he probably should have been. He was too busy losing to Ron at chess, which happened all the time; but Harry always held out some vain hope that one day, Ron would lose his mind while playing and then Harry would win – at last.

Like he mentioned, it was a vain hope.

"Mind if we join you?"

Sam Manson smiled down at the board between the two boys with a somewhat feral expression. Hermione was behind her, looking equally interested.

"Winner plays you?" Ron asked, looking at first suspicious and then surprised. He hadn't taken to any of the transfer students very well, mostly because they had puzzled him thoroughly. The only one whom he had seemed to like at all was Manson – and this was probably because they had a shared love of strategy games. That, and her knack for shutting Hermione up – or at least, her capability to debate their resident scholar without resorting to name calling – was becoming famous throughout the Gryffindor tower.

"Sure," she shrugged in response and sat, as her small kitten bounded on the couches behind her. There weren't many people in the common room tonight.

"So how much do you know about Phantom anyway?" asked Hermione to Sam as they both watched the boys play – or in other terms, watched Harry's pieces get slaughtered. "I never asked, but I admit my curiosity has finally overtaken me."

"That's never happened before," snarked Ron pleasantly, as he kept his eyes on the game.

"Ha ha," Hermione lashed back, the feeling of true menace missing from her tone.

"I just know a few things about ghosts, and about Phantom – but they won't help you much," warned Sam as Bast the kitten purred against her leg. She scratched behind the ears. "If you really want to know more factual information, you should send Danny your questions so he can send them to his parents. They know the most in that field of study. I can give you my opinions though."

Hermione seemed pleased enough by that. "What do you think of him?"

Sam paused for a long moment, and distracted Harry enough that he lost one of his bishops. "He's well-meaning. He's saved us, our town…countless times. The only 'ghost' I know of that's more like a superhero than anything else. They only thing he and the others have in common is ectoplasm. Nothing else."

"Ectoplasm?" Harry asked, giving up his queen in this moment of defeat. Ron grinned wildly and pushed forward.

"'Ghost' blood." Sam explained before Hermione got a chance to interject. "Or, at least, that's what we think it is. Danny's parents are still trying to figure out exactly what ectoplasm is, and how it all works. But from what we know, it is, quite literally, the pure essence of a ghost. Well, when we get the definitions of 'ghost,' 'poltergeist,' and 'spiritual deity,' we'll know that 'ectoplasm' is what makes them what they are." She shrugged helplessly. "It's definitely fringe science, at best."

Harry took a moment to consider the ghosts who so famously wandered the halls of Hogwarts, a thoughtful frown on his face. To think of them even having blood was just a strange, alien idea. Then again, he was a wizard- nothing should really be surprising him. Yet still some things managed to do so.

"Isn't it dangerous?" Hermione looked worried. "To be experimenting with a substance that hasn't really been completely identified?"

"Probably," Sam said, her voice dry and her eyes half-lidded. "But that's never stopped Danny's parents before. Especially his dad. He's a true fanatic about it; I think he's trying to catch a 'ghost' and strip it down to its bare molecules." Ron's face screwed up at the mention of this word – he obviously didn't know what she was talking about. "It would be informative if it wasn't such a horrible idea."

Hermione didn't lose her worried look. If fact, this made her look even more anxious.

There was a brief hush that came over the four Gryffindors. "If Phantom's not a ghost, and not a poltergeist…then what is he?" Ron queried as he picked up a chess piece – a pawn – which calmed immediately once held.

Hermione and Sam both responded, respectively: "We don't know." "It's hard to say." The two girls looked at each other and grinned.

"The wizarding world has written volumes on the subject of life after death, but it's still lacking in anything but theories," Hermione continued. "Poltergeists are…subject to inquiry, but fairly similar in nature: mischievous and disruptive – powerful, sometimes dangerous, and often with or without a true form. They are chaotic. Phantom fits only a few of these qualities, despite claiming to be one of them." Hermione picked up a large tomb and began to comb through it. "Frankly, Phantom could be anything at this point. My research hit a dead end after the events on Halloween."

Sam wrinkled her nose in thought. "I never really thought about the differences. Never knew there were any." Harry remembered the descriptions of her home town 'ghosts' and knew right away – even with his tenuous grasp of the subject – that those creatures were not precisely ghosts. Or at least, not the kind the wizarding world was familiar with.

"Well, what he did at the feast was nothing short of awesome," Hermione was actually using the original meaning of the word.

"The stunts he pulled were pretty brass, but I saw them all the time back home," Sam admitted.

"He saved all of us from a difficult situation," Hermione said smiling.

"He saved you in particular," Harry pointed out, leap-frogging back into the conversation and simultaneously making Hermione sputter – which was always fun. "In the shape he was in, I'm surprised he was still standing."

It was here that Sam smiled in a way that was warm and entirely new to the others around her. "It's not really surprising. I've seen him go through far worse. He always bounces back – it's amazing, really."

Harry was taken aback once again. He was constantly surprised by these new transfer students. Tucker Foley, with his working electronics – and his continued ability to show them off at the library (which drove Madame Pince bonkers) and anywhere else he could carry them. Saman— Sam Manson's determination; her strength, intelligence (which he was, ashamedly, starting to take advantage of – specifically when it came to Charms), and her loyalty to her friends, were continuously impressive.

And Danny Fenton, a muggleborn Slytherin who happened to greatly dislike Malfoy and even managed to garner – within what was considered a den of Voldemort supporters and blood purists – a group of Slytherins with a remarkably different approach to school politics. He was turning into the snake pit's very own dark horse. Harry found that at once hilarious, karmic, and odd.

He remembered their first meeting, which also happened to be their longest conversation. Harry's mind pushed aside Malfoy's presence, and he tried to focus on Fenton, finding it hard to remember the details – which was suspicious, but not overtly so. Harry had difficulties recalling the right way to order his wand movements in regard to some spells, so he didn't think he was the right person to feel suspicious about not remembering things. Still – he knew magic was tricky and often too subtle to detect (unlike wizards and witches themselves, who were so flamboyant they were hard to miss).

Something about the way the Room had organized itself for the other boy…it felt wrong. Stomach Wounds? He recalled the book and felt himself frown, disappointed by his lack of recollection. Why can't I remember?

Nonetheless, Harry continued to think after being unable to brush aside the cobwebs of his memory, interaction with people outside his House was akin to opening a door. A door that had been invisible up until the previous September.

It made him wonder why he felt so narrow. Like he had been looking at the world through a single lens, and had somehow forgotten that others seemed to live alongside him here, at Hogwarts. The D.A. had brought this feeling forth first, but the reactions of those around him in regards to the transfer students in particular managed to shatter his small, but devastating illusion.

"Sounds like you fancy him," Ron broke through and disrupted what little peace they had managed. Hermione choked, while Sam's face went from serene to ruffled in five seconds.

"Don't even joke," she said, looking uncomfortable. "It's not even a possibility, alright?"

"Why not? Ow!"

That was the sound of Ron Weasley saying something blunt and getting bruised ribs for his trouble. Courtesy of Hermione Granger.

Sam did look a little less grim than she had been moments before. "What, aside from the fact that he's…okay, so maybe he's not a ghost, so maybe he's not actually dead." She almost stuttered on the word 'dead,' looking unnerved. "But still. He's off limits – though that doesn't stop the fan girls," she groaned, while Hermione laughed.

"I can relate to fan girls," Harry muttered. "Unfortunately." He didn't add that such flimsy adoration hadn't really been thrown his way over the course of this year in particular. And that had been one of the best things to happen to him in the current climate of his popularity.

Sam smiled. "I forget that you're famous here," she admitted. It made Harry swell with a strange sort of relief.

"Easy to forget when you've just begun to immerse yourself," Hermione pointed out. "Which, by the way, you should be doing by completing your work on Transference."

"That's not fair," pouted Sam, which – despite the dark makeup ensemble – managed to look…cute. "Just because you finished yours early doesn't mean I have to finish tonight!"

"Yes Hermione," Ron said, in tones of Infinite Wisdom. "Let the poor girl rest. I mean, you're not making us do it now."

"That's because I gave up trying to get you two to finish your revision on time years ago," Hermione complained, sounding less snappy and more resigned than anything else.

Ron, being who he was, beamed as if he had been rewarded a compliment. Harry couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped his lips.

The small black kitten, named Bast by Sam, had crawled over and slid comfortably onto the American girl's shoulders. A comfortable silence settled over the four as they sat by the flickering fire.

Harry didn't think he could be this relaxed, especially after everything that had happened over the last year. For some reason, he couldn't muster up the strength to feel irritated or worried. He hadn't experienced such peace for quite a while; some of the reasons for that could be attributed to his own attitude, possibly. He wouldn't rule it out.

"Is every year here," Sam began loudly, as if the thought had just occurred to her. "This mysterious and weird?"

"As long as I've been coming here," Harry's amusement was obvious. "Yes."

The night was a good night to rest. Harry didn't think he would get many others like it.

Danny had wanted to be alone before the game started. Not because he wanted to focus – but because he didn't think he could handle glowing words of encouragement. Not that either Daphne or Bartholomew were prone to fits of warm sentiment, but still. He didn't want to risk it.

Unfortunately, his best friends knew where to find him anyway.

Tucker was the first, and in his arms he carried two speakers and his PDA. As Danny stared, Tucker quietly set up what was slowly becoming a little stereo system. He shoved down a small bout of nervous laughter, and stared at his friend instead.

The first three notes of the song, and Danny already knew what it was. He chuckled and shifted his gloves, wiggling his fingers to tighten the grip. "Tuck," he said casually and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You rock."

Tucker grinned and nodded his head in time with the beat. Sam entered and at first looked confused before then proceeding to clap slowly, she too keeping time – better than Tucker anyway.

"If you want to destroy my sweater," sang Tucker, badly. His little glowing 3G device was blaring out of a pair of portable speakers. "Woah woah woah."

"Pull this thread, as I walk awaaaay," added Danny, under his breath as he adjusted the slightly uncomfortable shoulder pads.

"Watch me unravel," Sam chimed in, with a smirk. "I'll soon be naked."

"Lyin' on the floor!" sang all three of them, on beat and slightly off key. "Lyin' on the floor! I come undooone."

The music continued as the friends laughed, mixed with nervousness and relief all at once. "See? At least you're not pretending to be a sweater," Sam insisted, a serious look on her face.

Tucker just turned up the volume. "Yeah, cheer up emo kid."

Danny gripped Malfoy's broom and stared at his warped reflection in the shiny black handle. "Yeah, I just." He laughed. It sounded high pitched and uncomfortable. "I mean, have you seen the Slytherin beaters? Jeez – Dash'd run in the opposite direction."

Sam stood in front of him and adjusted his cloak. "Just think: the big dumb guys are actually on your side for once." she said, sounding smug. "You should have seen their faces when you kicked Fright Knight's butt. They were scared crapless!" Sam was the only one who could say that and not sound like a fangirl. Danny needed that in his life.

"Heh, okay, okay." He playfully slapped her hands away so he could finish primping himself. "It's not like anyone's going to notice if I have the cloak knot tied correctly. And for the record, I look stupid."

"Nah, it shows off your –"

"Tuck, don't even finish that sentence, or I swear, you will wake up in a pile of ectoplasm one morning."

Tucker made the universal 'calm down' gesture, while laughing. "Just go kick Gryffindor's butt." Sam glared in his direction. "What? I'm in Ravenclaw. All of us wanna see Gryffindor take a back seat."

"Well, we'll see. You know, I heard Harry Potter was the –"

"Youngest Seeker in a century," chorused Danny and Tucker. "We know Sam. Hermione unwillingly gushed about it herself," finished Tucker, looking bored. "He's Saint Potter." Though the nickname wasn't exactly nice, Tucker had no real irritation behind his statement.

"Of the Downtrodden?" continued Danny, his good-humor finally returning.

He glanced askance at Sam and saw her raised eyebrow of skepticism. "You know, that's what Malfoy calls him occasionally," was all she said before shaking her head in fond exasperation as both Danny and Tucker made gagging noises. She turned back once and smiled at Danny. "Just don't get hurt out there. Apparently, Quidditch can get pretty nasty."

"So I've heard," he responded with a relieved expression. "I'll be fine."

Tucker waited until Sam had gone before packing up and looking at Danny. "You sure you can do this?"

"What? You worried because of the thing that happened this morning and yesterday afternoon?"

"Yeah, the 'thing' where you started shivering and chattering your teeth like it was fifty below," Tucker finished, not amused. "I mean, we still don't know what's causing it – and it could come back at any time."

He cleared his throat once and shrugged helplessly. "I know. But if I don't go out there, well. Use your imagination."

Tucker grimaced. "So…you'll be caught between a rock and a hard place, then?"

"I'd say that by now, I have monthly reservations there."

"Super," Tucker said flatly. "Good luck man." The other boy shot Danny an encouraging grin, and left, the wooden door shutting behind him.

Danny let out a great sigh. Tucker was right about everything; but so was Sam. He needed all the luck he could get.

The air was cold, iced over and crispy. Danny felt the grass crunch beneath his feet as he followed behind Vaisey and the others onto the field. He shivered, and cursed winter. It certainly didn't help him figure out if he was having another attack, as the weather could have easily been responsible. He readjusted his grip on the broom, and looked up at the pearly white sky. At least it wasn't outright snowing. Taking a shaky breath, Danny tried to think about something else, other than Quidditch. This was near impossible, but Danny was one of those people who was getting used to the idea of the impossible, and was almost at home with it by this point.

"You ready?" Vaisey asked him.

Out of the field, hearing the cheers of the Slytherin house amidst the booing of the other three, the atmosphere was beginning to grate on Danny's nerves now more than ever. No one else had said a word to him yet, and it didn't help ease his worries. They obviously didn't want him here. Then again, only Harper and Vaisey had seen him fly.

"No," he said, completely honest. "But I think waiting is worse."

"Most of us are replacements," Vaisey said. "But then, most of us have been around this field before. I understand why you're worried. But don't be. Just do what we did in practice, avoid bludgers, and you'll be fine."

"What if I, uh, lose?" Danny asked in an undertone, trying not to look at the rest of the team's hulk-like shapes in pure horror. They all reminded him too much of Dash – except that Dash didn't look like he'd been beaten with sticks before being sent out into the world.

"We've lost to Gryffindor before. " He didn't sound happy about it, which meant it was true. "So far, no one has won against them as long as Potter's been their Seeker. Except, uh, Hufflepuff with Diggory – but most of us believe that Potter being incapacitated during a match doesn't count as a win." Vaisey said this last sentence rather quickly, and looked askance when he said the name 'Diggory.'

Danny frowned. "Wait, Malfoy didn't win?"

"Not once," Vaisey assured. "The ponce bought us all these nice brooms, and got onto the team. I'm not saying I'm not thankful or anything, but he's got a grudge against Potter a mile wide. It probably affects him during the game as much as actually liking him would."

Danny licked his lips and nodded, looking out as the Gryffindor team marched onto the frostbitten field. "I guess I haven't got much to lose then?"

"Oh, no," Vaisey grinned humorlessly. "Most of us still have to put up with Malfoy. But we really don't have to put up with you. Not more than we have to, anyway."

Danny grimaced openly. "Great. Perfect."

A look of pity crossed Vaisey's face then. "Just don't do anything stupid. If it's skill versus skill, they aren't expecting much anyway, so you're alright."

Danny stared ahead as if one of the goal posts held his imminent doom. The Gryffindor team looked as happy as the Slytherin team did, and Vaisey broke the ice by reaching forward to shake the opposing captain's hand. She looked like the kind of person who could bite through steel if necessary. On the other hand, Vaisey was radiating civility, which probably accounted for the utterly shocked look on the girl's face.

"Fair game," Vaisey's words were iron-clad. Even Danny found himself straightening at the tone. None of his other team mates responded much, except through noises of assent. Surly assent, but assent nonetheless.

"I certainly hope so," Madame Hooch's voice cut in sharply. "I want to see nothing out of sort on the pitch today; that warning goes to both teams. Understood?"

Another assent from the teams playing, and Hooch smiled a gimlet smile. "Then…begin!"

Danny had followed everyone's example, climbing onto the black broomsticks before the two captains shook hands. And as the whistle and the quaffle went up high…so did they.

The white world blurred and shifted, and Danny felt his head spin, before the sensation of floating entered his being; as suddenly as he had felt disoriented, everything righted itself. The worry that had plagued him on the ground disappeared. He knew how to do this. He'd done it all before, although he flew faster by himself.

Danny gripped the broom and grinned with vivacity. He could do this, no problem!

He zoomed around his team between the posts and everywhere he could, even touching base with the crowds below, looking for any hint of the golden snitch. Tired after spotting a few false glints of shine, Danny finally sat, finding a spot high above the spectacle to see more clearly. The voices of the announcer and the students blended together; a cacophony of sound.

In all honesty, he was wondering how he had ever been nervous in the first place. It didn't matter that the air was cold, that the crowds below him were yelling and screaming – it didn't matter at all. He smiled again and flew lazily in a circle, for the feeling of the wind against his face, eyes closed.

Unfortunately, Tucker was right. He should have known better than to have expected this game to go anything other than horribly, horribly wrong.

Numbness crept along his legs and his right side, an icy cold began to make him shiver – and he wasn't sure if it was because he was so high up, or if it was something else. The minute he exhaled, watching in mild shock as ice crystals formed from his breath and fell out of the air to hit his hands like snowflakes, he knew it wasn't a good thing either way.

Hoping it was simply the altitude, Danny eased his broom down slowly, hands shaking with the sudden weight of returned anxiety. No sooner had he descended, the cold hit him harder, leaving his teeth rattling in the aftermath. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down. It wasn't some weird supernatural occurrence – it was just the weather.

Really.

Uproar from the stands snapped him out of his denial. Harry Potter had spotted the snitch, and was, with pinpoint accuracy, heading straight for it from his perch by the Gryffindor goal posts. Danny, remembering that he had a job to do, forced his hands to hold on as he zipped forward as fast as he could. A bludger almost hit him on the way, but Danny – so used to dodging Objects of Unusual Size – made a feint before tucking under the flying, angry ball, and avoided it completely.

The wind whipped his hair, stinging his eyes, but he knew he only noticed it because his tears were starting to freeze on his cheeks. Still, he tried to keep up; Harry was really fast, and Danny didn't have the experience with a broom. But he was catching on quickly, as proven by the swirl he pulled, circling Harry to take the edge for the moment. A brief cheer of victory went up in his heart….

…Before the world came to a grinding halt. Danny couldn't breathe, the lights dimmed, and he felt ice in his throat before he slid off the broom out into the empty air.

Darkness swallowed him whole, and though he was choking, it felt oddly like he was drowning.

"Danny! Come on, Danny – speak to me!"

It was still cold, but Danny wasn't being strangled anymore. He opened a nearly frozen shut eyelid, and blinked forcefully a couple of times to get rid of the remaining ice crystals.

"They must have used a Freezing Charm. Only explanation." That voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. And he couldn't see straight yet, so they were only a large dark shape against blinding white. "I can't imagine a student bold enough – or talented enough – to cast it on a fast moving target."

"It was done well – I had to give him a dozen Warming Draughts before he got back to functioning, human temperature. We're lucky Flitwick was down here today."

"I'm always here for the first match of the season! But don't laud me. Hovering Charms are easy, but hard to aim. Just be glad I'm not twenty years older!"

There was a decidedly amused silence that followed that statement, along with several hurried footsteps that softened to nothing as soon as they got far enough away. Danny would have laughed if everything that made up his existence didn't hurt so badly.

He didn't feel well enough to try interrupting, but Sam was suddenly quiet, which meant a few things: she was either pissed, distraught, or both. So Danny decided a distraction was in order.

"-wheeze-"

It was all he could manage at first. But Sam noticed immediately; he heard her heavy boots thud over toward him.

"Danny? We thought you were dead." She said this, not lacking emotion, but tired, as if she didn't have emotion left to express.

And then she hugged him, tightly, before quickly letting go, and wiping her eyes as she settled into a crouch to his right. There was another hand on his shoulder, which felt like lava in comparison to his own skin.

"You okay? Standard question, I know." Tucker's voice resounded, high and cracking. "Try to take it easy." He sounded exhausted.

Danny really forced his eyes open this time, and was surprised to see Sam's usually pale face blotchy and red, with black streaks of mascara running down her cheeks. He was surprised mostly by her honest display of tears shed; Sam never cried openly. Tucker didn't look so hot either. Perhaps it was because he was the one that had to watch Danny fall from a ridiculous height while playing a sport that required you learn how to stay atop a floating stick while dodging possessed balls. Gosh, when Danny thought about it like that – why did he agree to try out for Quidditch again?

Oh yeah. Bartholomew Harper. That guy would pay .

"Where's – ah," he coughed out, trying to sit up off the cold ground, from underneath a pile of blankets that barely helped ease the ice around his feet.

Wait.

"My feet are frozen." It certainly wasn't the oddest thing to happen to him. However, it was going on the list; a list that was growing longer every hour of his life.

"True, as Freezing Charms tend to do that to a person." Professor Snape. He'd recognize the tone anywhere, and it certainly wasn't sarcastic in any sense of the word, no sir. "Unfortunately, you aren't entirely unfrozen. Can you feel your fingers?"

Why was he here? Danny wondered idly, still noting that his brain was floating around in his skull, on vacation for a bit. "Er, yeah." He flexed them. They felt warmer than before. "My fingers are … fing-ing."

"Good," he said, bypassing Danny's odd word usage. "A visit to St. Mungo's will not be necessary." The dark-eyed professor always seemed to be glaring. His bedside manner wasn't exactly sunshine and roses.

Danny looked up at him and finally was able to discern faces and sky from large blobs of black and white. Sam and Tuck, of course, were by his side. Professor Flitwick and McGonagall looked busy questioning a crowd of students; they were too far away for Danny to figure out what they were saying. Vaisey, a small portion of the Slytherin team – and about a dozen onlookers plus Harper, were in the group being questioned. Bartholomew Harper looked guilty and worried, but was doing a very good job at hiding it. Professor Snape looked mildly infuriated – but he always looked like that.

And standing next to Snape, looking a great mixture of things was Harry Potter. Holding the fluttering snitch in his left hand.

Great.

"What happened again?" he asked Sam and Tucker.

"You froze up there," Sam said. Her words were weak.

"Literally," Tucker added. "Like, into a block of ice; then you fell off at about several hundred feet or so. Professor Flitwick caught you. Really lucky." He said that last bit like he was talking to himself. Flitwick had already departed, apparently off to report to Dumbledore, as he said something to that regard; most of the people were already gone – excluding Vaisey, who had been worriedly speaking to Madame Hooch about the results of the game.

Danny didn't respond immediately. "Where's Malfoy's broom?"

Sam only pointed at the aforementioned object; it was sitting safely off the side, unharmed.

There was a pit of anxiety growing within him, and it surprisingly had nothing to do with his previous transformation into a glacier. Near-certain-death, he was used to. What he wasn't used to was losing.

Well, okay – he was used to it. He had done it several times when he was a ghost. But this time, he was human. He was used to having nothing expected of him when he was Danny Fenton, clumsy geek boy. And as a ghost, he just got back up and tried again, because he knew, somewhere deep down, that he wasn't allowed to give up fighting after one loss. Or even several losses. As a human? He was always prepared lose.

Here, at Hogwarts, he felt like a different Danny Fenton. Sure, he was still clumsy and half-competent with his work, but no one thought he was born defected, or that he would remain that way. They just assumed that it was something he'd grow out of; something he could pass over and become greater than he was now. A well of confidence had sprung up around him, and he had relished the feeling. Now, however, reality had come crashing back down around him.

He hadn't won. For a moment up there, with his arm outstretched and fingers mere centimeters from his goal, he seriously thought he was going to catch the snitch. No matter how brief, that feeling of near-success was still tangible. It almost made him sick with laughter, at the thought that – for even the briefest of moments – he could be something better than he was when he wasn't a ghost. He felt betrayed by his own body; worst of all, he felt embarrassed, humiliated – in a way he hadn't felt for a long, comfortable while. Shame made him shiver again, and he wrapped himself in the blankets tighter, wishing everyone could just disappear for a moment.

"Danny?" Sam murmured, crashing into his thoughts.

It was like she was psychic or something. "Sorry Sam, Tucker," he spoke, voice hoarse. "Just, it's tiring to talk."

They both nodded and didn't speak.

Apparently, Danny didn't speak loudly enough, because as soon as his friends went silent, everyone else decided to start talking at him.

"You're going to need a visit to the hospital wing as soon as possible," Professor Snape said, terse and quick. "To get you thawed out."

"Sure," Danny said. "Love to. How do I get them to thaw faster?" he asked, gesturing lazily to his feet.

"You were fed quite a few Warming Draughts; however the ice appears to be able to regenerate. Hence our urgency," he growled, and his irritation wasn't directed at Danny. Or at least, he hoped not.

Professor McGonagall had come up behind Sam. "I want to make sure this wasn't done by any of my students. Or any student," she said, sounding just as annoyed as Snape, if that was humanly possible. "As requested by Mr. Potter, a rematch will be held if this incident was indeed the fault of anyone present."

"That would be an appropriate response to this blatant act of sabotage," another person chimed in from behind Danny. The voice was syrupy sweet, and made Danny's insides want to go take a shower. "I can't imagine how this could have happened. Gryffindor is known for its nobility; surely this wasn't their doing."

Professor Umbridge smiled – it wasn't pretty. And her tone reeked of condescension.

Danny looked at the immediate change in everyone's expressions. Sam's eyes narrowed with pure defiance. Tucker took the moment to garner a neutral expression – which Danny knew was another sign that he simply didn't like this person. Snape's face didn't change, which, again, didn't surprise Danny in the slightest. McGonagall flared her nostrils, and clenched her fists.

Harry Potter looked like a small, active volcano. Danny heard the familiar tolls of the bells of doom echo throughout his consciousness.

"It could have been anyone; all the houses were here." Danny spoke up, feeling somewhat guilty. He was pretty sure by this point that he was the one responsible for his own, ah, predicament. "And, uh, I appreciate the offer of a rematch, but I don't think it's necessary." He looked to Harry and then closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands to wipe his face. "You were gonna catch it anyway."

There was distinct note of resignation to that last sentence, and Danny didn't want to own up to it. Hence keeping his eyes closed.

"You don't know that," Harry countered, apparently having calmed down enough to speak properly.

"Yeah I do," Danny sighed. "I'm a noob, remember?" All the magical folk looked confused at his terminology. "I haven't been playing as long as you have. The odds were pretty much against me from the start." Like they always are .

Harry seemed at a loss for words. "Are you saying you've never flown before today?" No need to open his eyes to know what kind of expression Harry had on his face.

"Of course I have," Danny said calmly. "I only started using a broom a little while ago."

Sam choked on laughter, before quickly smothering it. Tucker just let out a small chuckle. Danny managed a weak grin, opening his eyes at last.

Harry stared in a mightily confused manner. "It doesn't matter," he tried again, shaking his head. "This was entirely unfair," he continued. "And we should play again – without you freezing and falling off your broom." It took another moment, as he seemed to struggle with something, before he added. "I know how you feel, alright? I had something similar happen to me back in third year. My opponent offered a rematch, but Hooch said that his team had won, fair and square." Though he looked pained as he said this, his voice held no contempt for Madame Hooch – which the coach noticed with some surprise.

Harry's face fell slightly, as he seemed to realize what he had said. "Is it alright if we have a rematch?" This time he was looking at the aforementioned Hooch, and the coach frowned.

"Perhaps," she said. "An investigation needs to be done. But…I am considering it. Mr. Fenton was obviously hexed." She looked to the remaining Professors. "Regardless, he needs to be in Pomfrey's care – those feet aren't going to unfreeze themselves."

"FENTON!"

The yell startled everyone present into a brief quiet. Danny looked up, and was equally surprised to see a familiar face that had been rather absent as of late.

It was Malfoy; he strode down to the field in the midst of the confusion, and was scowling something fierce. Danny felt ill. It was probably a combination of things that was making him dizzy, but Malfoy's presence could not bode well for anyone. Excluding the professors, of course – they didn't count.

He was followed by a severe-looking entourage of his friends ('C ould he call them friends?' thought Danny to himself), and he was limping. He looked pale (which was normal), and furious (which was somewhat normal), and was holding a black something in his left hand. His wand was in the other.

He also looked like he had spent the last few days rolling around in a mud pit. This was probably the only thing that was truly unusual.

"Where is he?" Malfoy shouted, startling Danny despite the fact that he had seen this coming. Malfoy's eyes trained on Danny, and in a heartbeat, the boy raised his wand and shouted out a hex that Danny didn't recognize.

A yell of " Protego! " allowed a shield to be erected around Danny right before the unidentified hex could hit his admittedly vulnerable form. Wide blue eyes started as Danny openly gaped at Harry Potter, whom had cast the shield charm and was glaring daggers at Malfoy.

He wasn't the only one. The fact that this was done in full view of the other professors was not lost on anyone present. Especially the professors themselves. "Mr. Malfoy!" snapped both McGonagall and Madame Hooch nearly in unison. Both women had their hands clenching their wands in record time.

Snape was already striding towards Malfoy, his glower and incredulous expression evident. "Mr. Malfoy, refrain," was all he said, in a tone that boded no cross-examination.

Surprisingly, this seemed to work; though Malfoy looked like he was just barely restraining himself. "He trapped me for two days! In a cave outside the castle," rushed Malfoy, eyes watering and voice half-whiny, and half-furious. "If Pansy hadn't decided to go looking for me, I would still be there." Growling, Malfoy bored holes in Danny's skull with a look of utter hatred. "I don't know how, but I know why. He was the reserve Seeker – there was no one else with enough motive!"

Danny thought that was stretching it a bit, but he was too busy being stunned to say otherwise.

"That can't be true," Bartholomew spoke up, as he had moved back into the fray. "He was with us, and his other friends, when you first disappeared." He sounded unsure, and looked at Danny, waiting for him to talk.

Vaisey, who had remained behind, regarded Malfoy carefully, before adding his own two cents. "When I told him you had gone missing last night, he looked surprised. And mildly disturbed by the idea of his being today's Seeker. I doubt he was the one responsible."

Danny had barely enough of a mind to think, let alone defend himself against such an accusation. So it was nice of these folks to step in for him. But he thought that some form of defense ought to come from the person being accused.

"I didn't do it," was all he could muster, to the collective disappointment of his friends. They were probably hoping for something more eloquent. Danny tried again. "Really, Malfoy, I don't have the skills. You've said so before." Ah, that's better; a little self-deprecation mixed in with his utter incredulity. "I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Liar!" Malfoy's voice was sharp and irate. "It had to have been you!"

"That," Snape spoke in a quiet voice. "Is. Enough ."

Everyone was quiet. Even Malfoy knew better than to interrupt at this point.

"What is your proof, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked. It was stated in tones of warning.

Malfoy said nothing, but simply seethed. Snape considered this to be an answer to his question. "Very well. I propose we look into the matter – thoroughly – and when the truth is revealed, we will deal with the consequences." He looked down his rather large nose at Malfoy, who seemed to calm himself forcefully.

McGonagall cut in, after recovering from her own shock over Malfoy's audacity. "We will do no such thing. That is the second blatant attack on Mr. Fenton's person since he stepped onto the Quidditch pitch – if nothing else, such behavior deserves a reprimand. Detention for next weekend," she added, ignoring Malfoy's shriek of disbelief. " That is taking into account Mr. Malfoy's recent trauma," McGonagall seemed immune to the blonde boy's protests.

If he felt relief at McGonagall's words, Danny didn't show it. He did, however, catch Umbridge looking at him in a distinctly disturbing way – with curiosity, like a cat eyeing a new mouse which had inadvertently stumbled onto a dinner plate. He didn't like the look.

Snape's voice was oily here, his face a perfect sneer. "Fair play, Minerva." He turned to Danny for a moment and back to McGonagall. "Have him at the infirmary immediately. I will deal with Mr. Malfoy."

And indeed he did, swooping away with near silent mutterings between Malfoy and his small tribe of sympathetic followers.

Shaking off the feeling that this was going to completely ruin his day – as if it hadn't been ruined already – Danny felt his toes begin to thaw, at last. He could probably hobble back with some aid, and as he quietly mentioned this to Sam and Tuck, they helped him up without a word.

They did both look incredibly angry. More angry than Danny himself, in fact. "I can't believe that guy," Tucker growled. "Like Danny would ever cheat." Tucker was spot on about that, even if Danny said nothing in response.

"He's got no proof, and he comes down here and tries to hurt you like he has every right to!" Sam burst out, finally shattering the illusion of her own serenity.

"Do you need help?" asked Harry, which once again surprised Danny.

Vaisey and Harper were already talking rapidly to McGonagall, Umbridge, and Hooch, pleading for a rematch, and that Danny should be the one to represent the Slytherin team as their seeker. Hooch, on the other hand, was insistent on sorting out the two incidents before making any judgment calls. For now, the results of the match would be up in the air.

Focusing back on Harry, Danny managed a faint smile – which probably looked more like the sort of expression someone would make when discovering that their puppy just died. "Uh, thanks, but I'll manage." He looked down. "Thanks for the save, by the way. I don't know what he was trying to do, but I guess he probably didn't have warm fuzzy feelings in mind, yeah?"

At this Harry laughed a little, looking pleasantly amused. "Quite true."

"It was a good match though, right?" Danny blurted out, and was totally embarrassed by the quiet shame of such a question.

Harry honestly looked like he didn't know what to say. "Yes," he answered, after an alarmed glance at Sam's snarling demeanor. "No, I mean it sincerely. Excellent flying." He too, suddenly looked like biting someone's head off. "Malfoy's usually at my throat; I'm not used to seeing him hostile at anyone else in particular. It still manages to rankle me anyway."

"We can all relate," Tucker drawled. "Trust me. No brownie points for Malfoy."

At that, everyone relaxed somewhat. Harry stilled, before turning his gaze back to a solemn looking Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Danny was not surprised he hadn't noticed them coming closer, disoriented as he was. In a bit of a hurry to get out of anymore uncomfortable conversation, he nudged his friends, who responded accordingly.

"Thanks again," Danny coughed out quickly, before Sam and Tucker hurried him off to Madame Pomfrey's ward.

He felt Harry Potter's eyes on the back of his head as they hobbled off.

Danny thought that tonight would be one of those that allowed him to sleep like a rock. Considering the whole Quidditch debacle and everything that happened before and after, he thought that maybe, just maybe, his head would let him rest in peace. Pomfrey had fed him enough Warming Draughts to light a normal person on fire. As she did so, she had reprimanded Quidditch, broomsticks, and the hazardous nature of Hogwarts, generally speaking. He was lucky that none of the frost had come back while he had been in her presence, or he wouldn't have been able to roam free for the next several days.

Unfortunately, his exhaustion fell prey to never ending anxiety. He was worried about tomorrow, and the consequences of his actions today. He knew Sam and Tuck would most likely always have his back, but he was starting to get used to having others do so as well. Not that Sam and Tuck weren't plenty enough when it came to support, but Danny felt that, when it came to allies, more was better.

Luckily, he was sneaking in after his usual rounds, so he didn't have to greet any of his roommates, or anyone else in Slytherin for that matter. The majority of them believed in Malfoy's accusations, and despite there being no real proof of his involvement, they took the other boy's side.

Harper and the others who had befriended him gave him their full support, unconvinced that the transfer student had anything to do with Malfoy's entrapment.

Not that it meant anything to anyone else, but still; the sentiment was wonderful to have.

Wondering how he was going to face people tomorrow without snapping at anyone and being generally moody (he had already had a fun time trying not to strangle Harper in his frustration over being Mother-Henned – and Harper was surprisingly good at acting motherly), Danny floated back to touch the ground. He admired the slight glow he gave off in the darkness, but shook it off with a yawn.

He had just changed back to his normal self when he felt a small hiccup in reality, and Clockwork appeared.

Decidedly unusual – he hadn't seen the time controlling, all-knowing ghost since the Incident, so why would the illusive ghost appear before him now, of all times? He looked down at the pendant around his neck, and glanced up at the grandfather clock – which had stopped. Eventually, he turned back to what was probably his only ally inside the Ghost Zone.

"Danny Fenton," Clockwork intoned, nodded deeply.

Danny nodded back, a little shocked by the polite tones. "Um. Hi. Uh – not to be rude, but what're you doing here?"

"I thought it might be prudent to visit, seeing as you are outside your normal territory. It might relieve you to know that most of those who would normally terrorize Amity Park find it…lacking when you are not present."

This would have been funny if it hadn't been so sad. Danny muffled a snort. "Huh. That's new. I'd have thought that they'd all be over here by now to try and catch me off guard." He had been feeling somewhat homesick since this afternoon. Not for ghosts, or anything, but the familiarity of a world he knew better than this one.

The impassivity of Clockwork seemed to melt slightly. Danny tried to hide his despondent expression, but obviously, he hadn't tried hard enough. "You look – unwell."

The Time Ghost stuttered – that alone should have been alarming, but he seemed to mean well.

So Danny responded in turn. "Just had a rough day. I'm never good at adjusting to new things, I guess." He shrugged.

"You adjusted well to your powers," the ghost said, eyeing him oddly.

"That took almost month. I've been here for nearly three months ," Danny sounded harsher than he meant to, his frustration finally finding an outlet. It happened to be the wrong one, however – so he backpedaled. "I mean, I'm not the smartest person in the world, but I think three months is a long time to adjust to something."

"That depends on what that particular 'something' is."

Eyes narrowed in an annoyance that was not directed at Clockwork, but it was about time to vent. He'd been holding back for long enough. "I just don't get it. What am I even doing here?" Danny burst out, his frustration evident. He covered his eyes, and ignored the stinging he felt behind them. "I left my family, my home, my – my job, and for what? To come here? To help ?" he scoffed.

Clockwork said nothing.

"I've been completely useless so far. I can barely save my own town once in a while, and I usually only win because of dumb luck. Now I'm over here and I can barely help myself , let alone other people!" He nearly shouted this last bit, but was stopped by a small noise of dissent.

"You may think you are failing," Clockwork said calmly. "And in some areas, you might be. But you have done much good since you've come into this world, and have helped several others realize their potential for it."

"I can't imagine," Danny said resolutely. "Who could I have possibly helped?"

"Everyone you've met," Clockwork said, equally unyielding. "You must trust me in this. I have seen what this timeline is like without you. An event with dreadful consequences would have happened earlier this day had you not come to Hogwarts. Several events of disastrous import have still occurred, but when you first decided to fly, the timeline was forever altered."

Anger dropped from Danny's face, and he frowned. "How?" he asked.

"That, I cannot say," Clockwork admitted. "But you must trust me. Do not undervalue your presence. It may hurt you, in the long run."

Clockwork's advice was always something to take seriously. The ghost knew practically everything anyway – or at least, what was, and what would be. Danny shuffled his feet, uncomfortable by the mild reprimand – or was it praise? With Clockwork, it was hard to tell. "Why …why do you have so much faith in me?" he asked in a quiet voice.

Clockwork clapped a gentle, freezing hand on Danny's shoulder. "I have always had faith in you, Danny." His voice was unsure, like he hadn't spoken in such a way for many…well, a long time.

Danny was beginning to like the feeling of being reliable. "Really?" he asked after a moment. He sincerely hoped he didn't sound too needy.

The Master of Time floated, temporarily a young child, and came around to face Danny. "I always have doubts about those who I put my trust in." He turned to stare out the window. "It is unlike me to say so, but it is true. Many of those whom I have protected have betrayed me, and when you first fought Pariah Dark, I thought you would be yet another."

Danny knew he shouldn't have felt surprise that Clockwork had been watching him since before the 'Dan Incident,' but he still managed it. "You knew about that? I mean, I know that you know about everything but – you really had tabs on me from that far back?"

"Of course," Clockwork said, and Danny couldn't believe he was seeing it, but there it was. An evasive glance to the high ceilings of the dungeon, and that tone of voice…Clockwork was hiding something from him.

"But, why did you think I would go… y'know, evil or whatever?" Danny asked, despite himself, frowning. He didn't want to push Clockwork. That tactic usually went badly.

The now elderly ghost smiled a little, and shook his head. "You were on the verge of victory, Pariah's minions and a whole kingdom lay before you. You held the ring, the crown, and the key in your hands." Middle-aged Clockwork floated sideways and touched his fingers to one of the grandfather clocks. "You could have ruled…well, you had access to unlimited power and influence. Yet, you did nothing to advance yourself. You locked away Pariah, saved your town; even your enemies led you to safety." Clockwork waved a hand. "A similar story with the Reality Gauntlet." Another moment passed and he thoughtfully added: "You also have yet to take advantage of me, which is something even the well-meaning have done before."

Danny blinked at the truth of this and crossed his arms, simultaneously a little uncomfortable and enthralled by the idea of ruling over ghosts like Skulker and men like Vlad. "So? I mean what's your point?" he asked, his tone curious.

"The fact that you ignored all the fame, power, and glory for your family and your friends is a ringing endorsement for your character. I could not deny aid to someone whose soul held so much caliber and good inside."

While being mildly embarrassed, and feeling that this little bit of praise only illuminated his faults, Danny's mind drifted in a different direction, and he looked up at Clockwork through hanging bangs. "Why the heck am I in Slytherin then? I mean, most of these guys have nothing but ulterior motives. I can't think that far ahead to save my life – sometimes literally."

Clockwork gripped his staff tightly, and shot Danny a distinctly dry look. "As I recall Slytherin himself saying once before," he swiftly morphed into a child and looked askance at Danny. Danny, once again, smothered his surprise that Clockwork knew his house's founding father. "Ambition lies not only with the sly, but also with the intuitive and determined. Most have only enough aspirations for themselves. Your ambition simply lies in several places at once." The ghost gestured with one hand upwards. "I also recall the Hat being rather clever for an inanimate object. Perhaps it sees something within you that even I cannot."

Danny pursed his lips and scratched his head, preventing a yawn. "You know, you still haven't told me why you're here."

Clockwork's serious face came back, not that it was very far away to begin with. "Correct." He floated closer to Danny, who was busy trying not to fall asleep. "I came to give you a warning, a piece of advice, and one gift."

The raven-haired boy's expression twisted into one of silent alarm. "Geez, I knew this couldn't be just a friendly visit," he grinned a little, but nervously.

"Perhaps another time." The old ghost raised his staff. "A word of caution – there will be an attack on someone you know, someone in your Order of the Phoenix. It will come when you least expect it, and I would like you to prepare for it."

He felt his heart clench. "Who? Who's going to be attacked?"

"I can only tell you who, or what, will be attacking him." A quick flash of disgust passed over Clockwork's face. "And you have met them once before."

"The Death Eater guy with the really blonde hair?" Danny asked, not so enthused by the idea. The last time he saw him, he'd nearly been sliced in half.

"No. It will be the snake." Clockwork sounded deadly serious when he said this. "Though you were not aware the first time, this snake is already being controlled, somewhat, by another outside force. This is why you were unable to overshadow it yourself."

Danny followed this line of thought surprisingly well, despite it being three in the morning. "Alright – so the snake's going to attack someone. If I can't ask who…then, uh, where?"

Clockwork let himself look pleased. "At the Department of Mysteries."

He had no idea where that was, but the location was duly noted. "When?" Danny pushed, frustrated that he wasn't allowed to know the potential victim involved.

"December the eighteenth, late in the evening at approximately 11:53pm."

Danny leaned back; he was genuinely surprised he was able to squeeze that much information out of the most vague of his allies. "Why are you telling me this?"

"This timeline is not entirely unexpected, and I have followed all of its possible outcomes. The most positive ones resulted in me visiting you now, giving you this information. But I am still taking a risk in doing so." Clockwork's red eyes were impenetrable. "The Observants already want you monitored – I thought I would satisfy everyone's needs as much as I could manage."

Well, Danny thought that this was just peachy. "And you want me to try to help, or save the nameless person being attacked? Okay – I mean, it's a snake. I think I can handle a snake."

While Danny muttered to himself, and unintentionally worrying himself more, Clockwork cleared his throat politely. Danny's attention refocused almost instantly. "I also advise you to visit a potential friend." He took out a very old, very delicate looking scroll. "He will certainly be amiable, and quite useful in eliminating your…chilly problem."

Darn it. Danny had hoped this wouldn't come up, but – as it always was with Clockwork – such things were inevitable. "I have it under control," Danny lied, glaring half-heartedly at his somewhat-not-really mentor.

Raising an eyebrow, Clockwork simply raised the scroll to Danny's view, handing it out to him expectantly. "His name is Frostbite. He resides in the Realm of the Far Frozen. You will find him most cooperative; after all, he was the one who leant you this."

Danny took the parchment and carefully toyed with the wooden knobs at the ends. "What is it?"

"A very interesting map," Clockwork said, this time with a voice trying desperately not to be amused. "The Map of the Infinite Realms. I believe it will be useful in many different ways. You may find Frostbite's realm with this."

The halfa's face lit up with genuine excitement. "Wow; and here we've been trying to make one for months," he murmured, opening it. Only to find that it looked blank. "Uh, I thought this was a map."

"It has mapped every possible ethereal plane destination within the ghost zone itself and outside of it," Clockwork answered. "And it will help you get there; that is the definition of a map, yes?"

If Danny didn't know any better, he'd think Clockwork was actually being sarcastic. "Uh huh." His eyelids sauntered to half-mast. "How do you use it then?" He was getting better at asking the right questions, he supposed, when he saw Clockwork begin to answer.

"Simply state your destination and it will transport you there. Or, to find the locations of portals – and their subsequent destinations, ask," the ghost smirked. "And ye shall receive."

Danny gave the old scroll a more appreciative glance. "That's slick. Thanks."

"There remains one last thing." Clockwork spoke after Danny was done carefully re-rolling the scroll back to its original shape. He adjusted his staff and grinned openly. "I believe I have taken more time out of your existence than was necessary. I'll indulge you with a few more extra hours." He gestured to the necklace around Danny's neck. "That will provide you with three hours of sleep before it disintegrates, and awakens you, allowing the flow of time to once more run smoothly."

At this, Danny smiled gratefully. "That's the best gift anyone's ever given me, I think."

"As well, you should talk to Sir Nicholas," Clockwork seemed to be reproachful here. "He did ask you to speak with him. I'd advise you to do so; you will learn more than you ever have about the Ghost Zone with his help."

Danny looked appropriately sheepish, and didn't even bother thinking about how Clockwork knew so much about his daily life. "I had forgotten about that, thanks."

Another sharp look at his youthful charge, and Clockwork seemed to regain his normal state of inexpressiveness. "Heed my advice, Danny," Clockwork warned him. "Or things may become much more difficult." He tapped the top of his staff and chimed, "Good luck."

Clockwork disappeared in a flash, and left Danny grinning at the frozen grandfather clock.

Ah, to have friends in high places.