1,133So I thought about it for a while, and I've decided to stop adding the dates as the story progresses. I found it helpful for writing the summer because it helped establish a timeline, but during the school year it's just confusing. There's already enough time bending going on with merging a show from the mid 2000s with a book series set in the 1990s, so I'm already being vague on the year here, if only because I can (perks of muggle pop-culture and recent events not coming up at all during the books). That, coupled with the dates JK does mention in the book not even properly lining up to the year 1995 (September 2nd is NOT a Monday in 1995), leads me to just not care about the calendar year. It's not important. I will continue to continue my timeline as realistically as possible, and if you're ever confused, please just ask.
Last Time: Danny reached out to Sam for some moral support, and after arriving at Hogwarts was Sorted into Hufflepuff.
'Kill me,' Danny wrote as an opener, partly to see how Jazz would respond, and partly because he was hoping she would figure out a way to do it through the journal.
'That doesn't sound ominous at all,' Jazz replied a few minutes later. 'What happened?'
'They've done it. The one thing I can never recover from.'
'Danny, I can tell when you're genuinely upset and when you're being melodramatic even though the journal.'
'What, really? How?'
'You're handwriting. If you were upset it would be rushed and more illegible than normal. As it is, it's neat for you which means you're taking the time to plan your words.'
'There's a lot to unpack there. First of all, rude. Second of all, it can't be that bad if you can still read it.'
'I'm sending you a look right now and it's honestly a shame you can't see it.'
'I'll ask Hermione to replicate it later, I bet she could.'
'The more you complain about her, the more I like her and want to meet her.'
Danny rolled his eyes with a fond grin.
'Anyway, why do you want me to kill you all the way?'
'I got Sorted tonight. I'm a Hufflepuff.'
'That literally means nothing to me. I'm assuming that's one of the school houses you've mentioned?'
'Yeah, but it's not the house that's the problem. Their mascot is a badger.'
There was a several minute silence from the journal that Danny could only interpret as hysterical laughter. Danny waited patiently, taking the time to further inspect the Hufflepuff 5th year boys' dormitory. The furniture matched the theme of the common room, with copper lamps providing a more rustic light to the room. Each bed was covered in a unique patchwork quilt that Danny was seriously looking forward to burying himself under.
By the time Danny returned to the journal, Jazz was in the process of writing a reply.
'Your Christmas gifts are going to include SO MUCH Wisconsin swag that you're gonna need a second suitcase to bring it all home.'
'Ugh, and there's no way Dad's not gonna blab to Vlad about sharing mascots even if he can't talk about the school itself.'
'About that.'
Danny straightened in alarm.
'What happened?! Does Vlad know?!'
'See, this is what I meant about your handwriting.'
'Jazz, this is serious.'
'I know, I know, sorry. He doesn't know where you are, or about any of this stuff. But he's stopped by the house at least three times in the last fortnight with the not-so-subtle intent of trying to figure out where you've disappeared to.'
'What happened? Did Mom do anything? Why didn't you tell me?'
'Mom was here the first time and deflected pretty easily, making it sound like you were with Sam and Tucker without actually saying it. She is scarily good at hiding the whole magic thing without anyone even realizing she's hiding something, by the way. Probably comes from years of practice, but it was still pretty cool to watch. You could learn a thing or two!'
Danny rolled his eyes; the irony of his mother teaching him how to keep secrets, especially from her, was not lost on him.
'Second time was all of us, and the third time was just me.
'As for not telling you, sorry. But it was nothing serious and you've had a lot going on. The first visit was like a week after you met Harry, you didn't need Vlad's maniacal hovering to worry about on top of things.'
'Are you okay?' Internally, Danny was seething. If Vlad had done anything to his family while he was away—
'I'm fine, he didn't do anything. He was just his normal fruit-loopy self. He was just a bit more overt in his intention of figuring out where you are with me. It sounded like he already knew you were gone on his first visit though.'
'Bugs, I'm telling you.'
'He mostly seemed miffed that he hasn't been able to find where you are. He narrowed it down to London, but I don't know if that's because of the spying or something else.'
'The ghosts might have told him. Or he might have been the one to send them in the first place. I mean, I'm sure Skulker came on his own and maybe others did too, but I wouldn't be shocked if Vlad sent others to look for me, or even just got Skulker to tell him. He doesn't like not knowing things, and the fact that I've disappeared off the face of the planet must really be getting to him.'
'Do you think he'll find out where you are?'
'None of the ghosts I ran into in London have shown up here yet, but who knows? It hasn't even been a day. Hopefully I didn't just jinx it.'
'Knock on wood!'
'Oh, I did, repeatedly. You know, I'm honestly curious if Skulker is capable of tracking me here. The school is supposed to be really well hidden.'
'I really hope you don't find out.'
Danny's luck being what it was, he didn't have to wait long to find out. Except it wasn't Skulker who tracked him down first.
With a chill in his throat, Danny woke up to excited paws jumping on his chest and slobber on his face. Realizing quickly who it was, he laughed and gently shoved the offender away. "Cujo, stop!" Danny said laughing, even as Cujo dodged his shoves with playful yips.
"Danny, am I still dreaming or is your dog green?" a tired Ernie mumbled.
"He's green," Danny answered wryly, sitting up fully so he could scratch behind Cujo's ears with both hands. "What're you doing here, buddy? How'd you get here?"
Cujo, being a dog, merely barked as an answer. Danny wasn't sure what kind of answer he was expecting.
Cujo seemed satisfied that Danny was now awake, so he jumped off the bed, ran in circles for a few entertaining moments, then ran through the door into the boys'
hallway.
"Danny, am I still dreaming, or did your dog just run through the closed door?" Justin asked, rubbing his eyes as he looked at the aforementioned door.
"He's, uh, not technically my dog," Danny said, grinning nervously. "He's actually a ghost, but I have no idea how he got to Hogwarts."
"Ghosts aren't tangible," Zacharias said haughtily.
"Before I got to Hogwarts, every ghost I'd ever met had the ability to be both tangible and intangible. Your ghosts are weird," Danny said, not for the first time wondering why the two were so different.
Getting ready for the day, Danny noted his robes had been altered to Hufflepuff accent colors at some point during the night, and a shiny badger gleamed at him off his new Hufflepuff badge. He idly wondered how long it would take for 'Wisconsin swag' to reach him, despite Jazz's declaration of Christmas presents. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or upset at the fact that Wisconsin's red and white didn't match Hufflepuff's black and yellow.
Closer to green and gold, a traitorous voice muttered in his head. Danny scowled, looking away from the badge and applying fresh foundation to his scarred hand as stealthily as he could manage. He'd have to wake up earlier or at least apply the foundation earlier if he didn't want his robe sleeves rubbing at it all day. Actually... Rather than deposit the foundation in the bedside drawer as he was planning to, he stuffed it safely in his bookbag.
Reapplying during the day had never really been an issue before because Danny had only ever hidden the scar for his own comfort. But now, hiding the scar became a necessity, and he knew he'd have to be more attentive of it.
"Ready, Danny?" Justin asked, adjusting his bag strap on his shoulder.
"Yeah," Danny said. While he was confident he wouldn't get lost between the Hufflepuff Common Room to the Great Hall (he wasn't that hopeless), he'd much rather go with the group on his first day.
As they ate, a stout woman he was told was Professor Sprout arrived to pass out their class schedules. Danny found his morning was heavy on elective classes, followed by Potions, Transfiguration, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon. He was very much looking forward to Potions despite the less than stellar endorsement of Professor Snape's treatment of non-Slytherins, and Remus had him excited for Defense Against the Dark Arts, even if he didn't have the best impression of the new teacher.
"So what's a green dog doing here if it's not yours?" Justin asked around a mouthful of eggs.
"He just likes me," Danny shrugged, wondering where Cujo had disappeared to. "I think I'm the only person who's treated him like a normal, fun-loving dog so he tends to find me just to play around sometimes and then he'll wander off and I won't see him again for a couple weeks."
"I guess a ghost dog would weird most people out, but that's a little sad no one else plays with him," Justin said.
Danny smirked. "Well, you haven't seen Cujo when he's angry or upset. He grows to the size of a horse and is way more intimidating. When he first showed up in my hometown, he was usually attack dog sized and scared people for the most part. Then I figured out he was just looking for a chew toy and he calmed right down once he had it. He's harmless when he isn't attacking you," Danny added wryly.
"You won't like him when he's angry," Justin grinned, and Danny snorted. "He's green and everything!" Justin continued.
"Cujo, smash!" Danny said, and Justin smothered a laugh into his fist.
"I miss people getting my muggle references," Justin said wistfully. "Ernie and Susan take Muggle Studies but it's just not enough."
"Yeah, but you can have a lot of fun with that, too," Danny said. "I met someone this summer who thought a toaster was a hand-warmer."
Justin laughed again, nearly choking on his water. "Please tell me they didn't try sticking their hands in."
"Thankfully, no."
"Danny! How was your first day?" Hermione asked, a herd of Gryffindors approaching with her. Danny hadn't spoken to the trio since they separated prior to the Sorting; it felt strange considering they'd been in close quarters for most of the summer (or in Harry's case, the better part of a month).
Danny bit back the answer he wanted to give. Divination was already shaping up to be a massive regret and waste of time, which he suspected was Hermione's personal brand of payback for his summer work speed. At least Danny and Justin had gotten a laugh out of interpreting each other's dreams. Danny has sanitized his own into simply spending time with his friends at the Nasty Burger, which apparently meant unexpected gains and success in business in the near future.
Care of Magical Creatures had admittedly been entertaining, spending time studying and sketching bowtruckles. He, Justin, and Lily Moon, a quiet girl in Hufflepuff who mostly seemed to keep to herself but was a diligent contributor to their group work, ended up together on the assignment. There were even more whispers and discussions about Hagrid's absence, but Professor Grubbly-Plank seemed to be plenty competent and knowledgeable.
Ancient Runes so far was taught with an odd mix of history and foreign language, and once again he had the nagging feeling that he had seen several of the runes in his textbook before. He could only hope that as the class continued, he'd place where he'd seen them before.
Potions had been a bit of a mixed bag. As he'd been warned of and had assumed from his brief interaction with the man, Professor Snape was a bit of a hard nose. The class content itself was very interesting; while the potion execution seemed very much the hard science that he was expecting, the background about the collection, storage, treatment, and use of various ingredients was far more critical thinking-driven. Anything less than perfection was unacceptable and Professor Snape made his displeasure known through snide remarks and barbs that he did not hold back on. Danny wished they'd been able to start a potion that day, but it was merely a lecture class; their first potion wouldn't be brewed until the double period on Wednesday.
They had just come from their first Transfiguration class, still his favorite subject so far, and Danny had finally learned a new spell! It was odd to learn a new spell in an open class setting versus the one-on-one tutoring he'd had with Sirius, and occasionally Remus. He didn't receive immediate feedback when he stumbled on a spell, and he wasn't constantly prodded to work through a mental troubleshooting process to figure out where he went wrong or what he could do to improve. He found himself relying more on self-observation, and it slowed him down more than he would've liked. Nevertheless, he managed to successfully perform the spell with only five minutes left in the class, behind only Malfoy and Lily.
What made Hermione's question difficult was the fact that the Hufflepuffs were standing right there. He knew how he wanted to express his first day, but there was a massive difference between the first day of magic school and the first day of Fifth Year.
"Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes, Potions, Transfiguration, now this," Danny said neutrally, listing his Monday class load. Harry let out a low whistle at the class-heavy day. "You weren't kidding about Divination, it's...uh, out there."
Ron snorted. "She have you doing dream interpretation, too?"
"Yeah, and I've had enough dream-walking to last a lifetime," Danny said wryly, forgetting for a moment that he wasn't commiserating with Sam and Tucker. When he remembered his company, he grimaced at how cryptic his comment sounded to someone unaware of his run-in with Nocturn.
"In Muggle Studies, we started learning about 'hand-hold electric games,'" Ernie said from his right. "So if you wanna switch from dream journals to muggle gaming—"
"Staaaahp, you're being too tempting," Danny groaned, prompting laughter from Ernie and Justin.
"Hand-held electronic games," Justin corrected. "And I'll help if you promise to let me know what they have you playing."
"Please tell me they're gonna teach you about the evolution of the GameBoy," Danny said.
"Who's the Game Boy?" Ernie and Ron asked simultaneously, to which Justin and Hermione both started giggling.
"I'm sure you'll learn," Danny said sagely, and this time Justin laughed loudly until they finally filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Justin's laughs promptly tapered into silence, seeing Professor Umbridge already sitting at her desk. The class quickly and quietly took their seats, Danny choosing a desk behind Hermione.
While Danny had largely trusted the reviews of his peers in regards to the temperament of their professors, Professor Umbridge was an unknown quantity to everyone. It was clear the class was making a careful assessment of their new teacher, wondering whether she'd be a pushover or a drill sergeant.
"Well, good afternoon!" she said once the class had all settled into their seats.
"Good afternoon," Danny muttered half-heartedly along with a few of his classmates.
"Tut, tut," Professor Umbridge said, shaking her head in dismay. "That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they recited dutifully.
"There now," Professor Umbridge said sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."
Danny resisted the urge to pout. With how much he had learned from Sirius and Remus, he had really been looking forward to learning new Defense spells. He reluctantly pulled out his quill, ink, and parchment, still uncomfortable with the use of them. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag and pulled out her wand as though it was merely a convenient accessory and tapped the blackboard. Danny marvelled at the writing that appeared, impressed with the convenience of the words appearing rather than the words themselves.
Defense Against the Dark Arts
A Return to Basic Principles
"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" Professor Umbridge said stately, facing the class once more. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum—"
"There's a Ministry-approved curriculum? News to me," Susan muttered under her breath behind him.
"—has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year," Professor Umbridge continued, not having her Susan's commentary.
"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please." She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by:
Course aims:
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used.
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
The class spent the next few minutes copying the words with no particular rush, and once everyone had looked back up, Professor Umbridge said, "Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
A dull murmur of assent rippled through the class. Professor Umbridge promptly straightened in displeasure. "I think we'll try that again," she said, and Danny resisted the urge to look skyward. "When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply 'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' or 'No, Professor Umbridge.' So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"
"Yes, Professor Umbridge."
"Good," she said, nodding contently. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk."
So she's a hangover teacher, Danny decided ruefully, turning to the assigned page as Professor Umbridge settled behind her desk to watch them. It was only day one and five minutes into the class Professor Umbridge was already relegating them to reading out of a textbook instead of actually teaching them anything herself. Danny gave her credit that at least she hadn't set up her desk behind them so she could try to take a nap.
When Danny found himself rereading the same line three times, he glanced up for a well-deserved day-dreaming break. He was surprised to see Hermione's hand up in front of him, back straight at attention, and her book hadn't even been opened yet. Danny wasn't the only one who had noticed Hermione. At this point, almost half the class was watching her, waiting for Professor Umbridge to acknowledge her. Danny wondered absently just how long Hermione's hand had been raised and admired how steady her arm was. Usually when he raised his hand to lack of response, his elbow would sag within a minute and would eventually find purchase on his desk along with a half-hearted perk of his hand to indicate he still had a question.
Eventually, Hermione seemed to win the silent standoff when Professor Umbridge finally decided to make eye contact with her.
"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Hermione, pretending valiantly that she had only just noticed her.
"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione said.
"Well, we're reading just now," Professor Umbridge said, showing her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."
"I've got a query about your course aims," Hermione plowed on, determined.
Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows. "And your name is—?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," Professor Umbridge said, voice slathered in determined sweetness.
"Well, I don't," Hermione said bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells." There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard.
"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"
"We're not going to use magic?" Ron said loudly.
"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr.—?"
"Weasley," Ron said, thrusting his hand into the air. Professor Umbridge, in a smile reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat, turned her back on him.
Harry and Hermione immediately raised their hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Harry for a moment before she addressed Hermione. "Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"
"Yes," Hermione said. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"
"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" Professor Umbridge asked in her falsely sweet voice. It was quickly grating on Danny's ears; it reminded him far too much of Spectra in her counselor disguise.
"No, but—"
"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way—"
"What use is that?" Harry said loudly. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a—"
"Hand, Mr. Potter!" Professor Umbridge trilled. Harry thrust his fist in the air. Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.
"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said, voice thick with imposed decor.
"Dean Thomas."
"Well, Mr. Thomas?"
"Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?" Dean said. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free —"
"I repeat," Professor Umbridge said with forced patience, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"
"No, but —"
Professor Umbridge talked over him.
"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed—not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."
Danny stiffened, both in fear and fury, knuckles cracking as he gripped the edge of his desk. The more this woman spoke, the more he utterly hated her.
"If you mean Professor Lupin," Dean said angrily, and Danny nearly lost his grip on the desk, "he was the best we ever—"
"Hand, Mr. Thomas!"
What did Dean mean by Remus being a 'half-breed'? Danny glanced around the room and noted that nobody else appeared thrown by Dean's comment, so whatever he'd meant must have been common knowledge to everyone but him.
"As I was saying," Professor Umbridge continued, steadfastly ignoring Dean now. She was steadily running out of students to focus on. "You have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day—"
"No, we haven't," Hermione said, "we just—"
"Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!"
Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge turned away from her.
"It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you—"
"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" Dean said hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads—"
"Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas!" Professor Umbridge said, her voice getting pitchy. "Yes, Mr.—?"
"Fenton," Danny said, having been acknowledged finally. Harry turned sharply to look at him. "And it sounds like, based on the examples you just gave us, there's actually a pretty high chance of us being attacked in this classroom."
There was a murmur of concurrence that rippled through the class; Hermione was shooting him a vaguely approving look.
"I understand that you're a transfer, Mr. Fenton," Professor Umbridge said sweetly. "Forgive me, but I don't believe that you're qualified to provide commentary on this school's past curriculum—"
"I can provide commentary on the current curriculum then—" Justin muffled a snort next to him.
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Fenton," Umbridge said dismissively, giving Justin a suspicious look. "Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at a Gryffindor girl, whose hand had just shot up.
"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?"
"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," Professor Umbridge said dismissively.
"Without ever practicing them before?" Parvati said incredulously. "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"
"You don't take a self-defense class to sit in a classroom all day, you get up and physically practice the moves!" Danny added.
"Hand, Mr. Fenton! I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough—"
"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Harry loudly, his fist in the air again.
"This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.
"What's the point of school if you don't practice what you're supposed to know in the real world?" Danny argued.
"Mr. Fenton—"
"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?" Harry added.
"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."
"Oh yeah?"
"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" Professor Umbridge asked, voice horribly sweet.
"Hmm, let's think..." Harry said in a mock thoughtful voice, "maybe Lord Voldemort?"
Ron gasped; a Gryffindor girl next to Parvati uttered a little scream; Neville slipped sideways off his stool.
Professor Umbridge, however, did not flinch. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter." The classroom was silent and still. Everyone was staring at either Umbridge or Harry. "Now, let me make a few things quite plain." Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead—"
"He wasn't dead," Harry said angrily, "but yeah, he's returned!"
"Mr.-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-House-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself," Professor Umbridge rushed in one breath, not even bothering to look at him. "As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie."
"It is NOT a lie!" Harry insisted. "I saw him, I fought him!"
"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Professor Umbridge said triumphantly, and Danny had the sickening realization that Harry had been baited into the whole argument. Fury bubbled within him like a white-hot flame; he hated this woman. "Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard."
"And what proof do you have of your guarantee?" Danny accused. Hermione was now shooting him extremely insistent looks to desist.
"Proof, Mr. Fenton?" Professor Umbridge blinked. "Is the word of a trusted Ministry employee not good enough for you?"
"Call me American, but you're not supposed to just blindly trust the government," Danny said, and a little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Sam cheered him on. "People deserve transparency. Harry's made a claim, with evidence to support, and yet it seems as though the Ministry won't even lift a finger to investigate what would be the greatest threat to the Wizarding World in a decade. Rather than do your jobs, you're content to sit around calling people crazy if it doesn't fit your narrative—"
"That is enough, Mr. Fenton," Professor Umbridge bristled. "You can join your classmate in detention."
Professor Umbridge paused, drawing herself up imperiously, before refocusing on the class. "If any of you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, 'Basics for Beginners.'"
It was a clear end to the classroom revolt, punishments given and the topic of conversation wrapped up. Professor Umbridge sat down behind her desk again and Danny resigned himself to attempting the reading again. Harry, however, stood up and immediately derailed that attempt. The whole class was staring at him; a Gryffindor boy next to Dean looked half-scared, half-fascinated.
"Harry, no!" Hermione whispered in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach. Danny was all too suddenly reminded of his tirade at Grimmauld Place and knew that what was about to transpire would in no way end well.
"So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?" Harry asked, there was a collective intake of breath from the class. Justin's head swivelled between Harry and Umbridge as though enraptured by a tennis match. Harry's face was stone and pale, lips thin and jaw clenched, while Professor Umbridge stared back at him with a cold placidity that showed no trace of her previous fake smile.
"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident," she said coldly.
"It was murder," Harry said lowly, and Danny noticed a tremble in his voice. "Voldemort killed him, and you know it."
Professor Umbridge's face remained blank barring a spark of fire in her eyes that suggested she was withholding a frustrated scream. The moment passed, and her face settled as she adopted a soft, caroling voice and said, "Come here, Mr. Potter, dear."
Harry kicked his chair aside, causing Hannah and the yet unnamed Gryffindor girl to jump at the sudden sound, and strode up to the teacher's desk. The class held its collective breath, everything so still that a pin drop would echo in the baited silence. Danny resisted the urge to swallow nervously for fear that the entire class would hear him do so.
Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, laid it flat on the desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink, and started to write in a slow, methodical manner, as though the entire class wasn't hanging on every second that passed. After a minute or so she rolled up the parchment and tapped it with her wand.
"Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear," Professor Umbridge said, holding out the note to him. Harry took the note wordlessly, spun on his heel and strode out of the classroom without a backward glance, slamming the classroom door shut on his way out. Sally-Anne Perks and Hannah let out a near soundless eep! at the sound.
A moment passed, and then Professor Umbridge looked up at the class, the sickly-sweet smile plastered on her face again as though the last ten minutes had not transpired. "Page five, 'Basics for Beginners,'" she reminded them.
As if in a trance, the class all returned to the reading.
The bell rang, and the class clamoured to exit faster than Danny had ever seen a class manage on day one; if he didn't know any better, he'd think it was the last class before summer break.
Scowling as he realized Ron and Hermione had already reached the door, Danny haphazardly shoved the rest of his things into his bag, anxious to catch them before they made it too far.
"Hermione!" Danny called, racing to catch up with her and Ron once he spotted them in the hallway.
"That foul woman," Hermione hissed when Danny reached them. "She knew exactly what she was doing, baiting him to lash out like that—"
"Harry's been on a hair-trigger all month, that didn't help," Ron added grimly.
"And what were you doing!" Hermione said suddenly, rounding on Danny.
"Excuse me?" Danny said, incredulous of the completely unwarranted glare being aimed at him. "I was trying to help Harry, I was—"
"Adding fuel to the fire," Hermione interrupted sternly. "Surely you must have noticed when the tone of the classroom shifted. It was fine when the whole class was on board, but the moment she lasered in on Harry—"
"You all left him to the wolves!" Danny said angrily. "What kind of friends are you?"
Ron's face turned a deep red as he looked about to tell him off, but Hermione straightened up and beat him to it. "The kind that care about him. Look what mouthing off got both of you: detention, and more fuel for the Ministry to demonize Harry."
Danny gaped at her in stunned silence; she was right, of course, about the outcome not working out in Harry's favor, but wasn't it the argument itself that was important? Standing up to a teacher who was clearly there as a tool of suppression against the truth? And it was the fact that the rest of the class had silenced that forced Harry into the singular limelight in the first place.
Hermione and Ron had already started down the hallway again when Danny realized he hadn't be able to ask his original question.
"Wait, Hermione—" Danny called, catching up with them again. Ron threw him a dark look, but Danny was determined. "Why'd she call Remus a half-breed?"
Hermione and Ron exchanged alarmed looks.
"No one told you?" Hermione asked hesitantly.
"Obviously not," Danny said shortly.
"Might as well, the whole school knows," Ron muttered, giving Hermione an imploring look.
Hermione bit her lip, considering, then sighed. "He's a werewolf."
"He's a...? Oh," Danny said, feeling a bit as though he'd been Stupefied.
"Yes," Hermione said tightly, and Danny realized she was waiting for him to either turn his back on Remus or accept him. And it wasn't a difficult decision at all.
"That's fine," Danny said, and Ron raised a brow at him. "He's still Remus, and I know a wolf that speaks in Esperanto, so nothing is really gonna weird me out at this point..."
Ron was now looking at him like he'd grown another head—which to be fair, wasn't entirely out of the realm of possibility; not that Ron knew that—but Hermione seemed to relax a bit in her hostility.
"If you want to help, maybe you can keep an eye on him during detention," she said finally. "Make sure he doesn't go off on her again."
"I'll do my best," Danny said dryly, not convinced he'd be able to prevent Harry from doing anything.
It seemed to be enough, as Hermione nodded shortly and she and Ron left. Danny scanned the hallway for anyone wearing yellow and was relieved to see Justin had loitered.
"Thanks for waiting," Danny said gratefully.
Justin shrugged, "I figured you'd have no idea where you're going."
"You figured right."
"That was brilliant, by the way," Susan said when Danny and Justin sat across from her and Hannah at dinner. "You with Umbridge? 'I can provide commentary on the current curriculum then.' Absolutely brilliant."
"Uh, thanks," Danny said.
"Granger was brilliant too, wasn't she?" Susan continued. "I've never seen her backtalk to a teacher like that before. Made my whole week and it's only Monday."
Hannah and Justin exchanged smirks, but the reason was lost on Danny.
"I'm surprised you didn't say anything," Justin said.
"Oh, there's a lot I wanted to say," Susan glowered, stabbing viciously at her potatoes. "But I have to keep my aunt in mind, you know? Anything I say to Umbridge is just gonna get used against my aunt."
"Who's your aunt?" Danny asked.
"She's the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry," Susan said.
"In other words, politics is the worst," Justin said.
"Isn't your father in muggle Parliament?" Susan accused, using her fork to point in Justin's direction.
"I stand by my statement," Justin said dryly, to which Susan snorted.
"Yeah, well, everything you do at magic school isn't being reported to him and his political enemies, is it?" Susan said, giving a surreptitious look towards the Slytherin table.
"Dodged a bullet there," Justin grinned. "And besides, you've got Danny to play Gryffindor and backtalk the Professor for you," he said, patting Danny's shoulder.
Danny groaned. "First day and I already have detention. Didn't even manage that at my old school."
"At least it was for a good reason," Hannah said. "I still can't believe we won't be actively using defense spells. OWLs are going to be a nightmare."
"Part of me is tempted to say that's future Susan's problem," Susan said, sighing almost wistfully. "We've already got so much homework!"
"And you know we'll get heaps more tomorrow," Hannah groaned. "Double Charms, double History, Potions, double Herbology, it'll be a nightmare."
"At least we're ending the day with Herbology, that'll be interesting," Justin said.
"And you can start on the Potions essay during History of Magic," Susan said. Hannah gave her a disbelieving look. "What?" Susan said defensively. "I'm managing my time, that's a skill. Besides, it's Ernie's turn to take notes."
"Do you think I'd be able to revise while patrolling?" Hannah asked miserably. "Six hours out of the week for patrol; d'you think it's too late to turn it down?"
Susan snorted, "I don't have time for it, Lily doesn't have an authoritative bone in her body, and Sally wouldn't be willing to give up her free time for anything responsible."
"Looks like you're stuck with it, Hannah. Cheers," Justin grinned. Hannah merely moaned and caught her face in her hands.
As day two of magic school began, Danny found himself easily ignoring Ron's glowers in his direction. Every so often, Harry would shoot him furtive looks, while Hermione seemed content to ignore him completely at the moment. Danny tried to keep his attention on the class assignment, reviewing the Summoning Charm. While he had hoped he'd be learning a new spell today, it was nice to get confirmation that he was on the same level as his classmates.
Despite how many people tried to impress upon Danny that History of Magic was inherently droll, Danny was taken aback by just how boring this class was. True to her word, five minutes into class found Susan bent over her Potions textbook, studiously working on her moonstone essay. She wasn't the only one, Danny noticed. Even Malfoy had his Potions text out and was writing away, presumably on his own essay.
In fact, the only people making an effort to pay attention were Ernie and a Slytherin girl with a puggish face sitting next to Malfoy. It fit with the arrangement that had been explained to Danny the night before. Apparently, back in third year the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins had come up with a rotating schedule to take notes during class so the rest of the class could treat the time as a study hall while only two people, one from each house, needed to suffer through the monotony of the lesson. Picking one person from each house ensured that there would be no sabotage of the other house, and having two people allowed for a safety net in case one person unintentionally drifted off. After class, the two representatives would swap copies of their notes, and both sets would be copied and distributed to the rest of the class.
It was scarily efficient, and would never have worked on any of his Casper High teachers.
It probably wouldn't have worked on any of the other Hogwarts teachers either, but Professor Binns—who was a ghost, he was being taught by a ghost—was so set in his routine that he never turned away from the board when he lectured. It was lucky he was a ghost, actually, as the lack of physical body meant that his voice carried to the class as though he were facing them.
Glad he had taken the advice to bring his Potions text, he tuned Professor Binns out and got to work on his own essay.
Danny had managed to finish about half of his essay when Justin kicked his chair (having been kicked by Sally-Anne) to signal the end of class. He packed up his things just as his stomach rumbled. After back-to-back double classes, Danny was more than ready for lunch.
Outside of the classroom, Ernie approached the Slytherin girl, notes in hand.
"Geminio," the Slytherin said, pointing her wand at her notes. A duplicate of the pages appeared neatly on top, and she handed the copy to Ernie. Ernie repeated the spell with his own notes and handed his own duplicate over. "I'm pretty sure I missed a section about the Sardinian subcommittee—"
"I see Potter didn't tarnish you too badly," Malfoy said, drawing Danny's attention away from the notes exchange. "Not that Hufflepuff is that much of a step up, mind you, but—"
"I'm perfectly happy with Hufflepuff," Danny lied steadily, if only because of the lingering resentment about the badger mascot. But he really was happy with his house and the people in it, and he didn't appreciate Malfoy's double barb against them and Harry.
Malfoy shrugged unconcernedly. Notes transfer complete, both Slytherins and Hufflepuffs alike made their way towards the Great Hall for lunch.
"It figures that now we've gotten a chunk of Potions done, we'll have to work on an even longer giant wars essay," Susan complained at lunch, taking out Ernie's and the Slytherin's notes and transcribing them beside her plate.
"Speak for yourself," Ernie grumbled, working on filling in his own notes with the Slytherin's.
"Hey, you're the Potions master here," Susan said. "If anyone's going to get an Outstanding on a Potions essay, it's you."
"Still have to write it though. Who's next on the History rotation anyway?"
"Me," Hannah groaned. "Justin's after me."
"We'll have to get Danny rotated in there eventually," Justin said, nudging Danny's shoulder. "You've gotta do a test run first though."
"Test run?" Danny asked.
"Yeah, to make sure you take half-decent notes," Susan explained. "It should be fine, but we have to make sure we're contributing equally to the exchange. We already voted Sally out, she hates History and it's impossible for her to focus in that class. Slytherin voted out Crabbe and Goyle for, well, obvious reasons."
"Malfoy's cronies?" Danny guessed, remembering the hulking boys from the train.
"You've met them, then," Justin grimaced. "I wondered what Malfoy was on you about already."
Danny shrugged. "He was harmless, for the most part. Dealt with worse at my old school."
"Well, try to not cross him, or any of the Slytherins really," Susan advised. "They're passive on a good day but if you get on their bad side, you're on it forever."
"You still on Pritchard's bad side then?" Justin grinned. Susan groaned, looking to the ceiling as Hannah and Ernie chuckled.
"Yes," Susan grumbled, still looking skyward. She sighed, then looked down to her plate again. "Like it's my fault she blew off a date with me to take an impromptu Hogsmeade trip. If she had just been honest, it might've been a different story, but she had to tell me she was tapped to fill in the prefect monitoring rotation, but Beatrice told me she was on duty then with—"
"Pritchard's a sixth year," Justin explained in an undertone as Susan continued to rant (Ernie and Hannah both looked like they'd heard this all before but were indulging her). "She and Susan dated for a few months last year, but then this happened and Susan broke it off. Pritchard threw a right fit about it, but Susan's right, she was definitely in the wrong."
"At least they're not in the same year," Danny said mildly. "I'm sure that'd make for some uncomfortable classes."
"It already makes for some uncomfortable hallway exchanges," Justin grimaced. "But all things considered, Pritchard's bark is way worse than her bite. The same can't be said for all Slytherins."
After lunch, the Hufflepuffs had another period of Potions, where their lecture focused on the Draught of Peace they'd be brewing tomorrow. Danny tried to keep his excitement at brewing his first potion at bay; it wasn't supposed to be his first ever potion after all.
"Herbology, finally," Hannah grinned as they made their way outside. The weather had thankfully tamed to a threatening overcast sky since the previous day; while Professor Grubbly-Plank had managed a spell to protect their enclosure from the rain, the walk to and from class had been miserable. Danny had learned a handy drying spell from Susan so he wouldn't have to spend the rest of the day soaked.
As they approached their assigned greenhouse, they ran into the Gryffindors already there, held up as they were by some of the exiting students. As they got closer, Danny recognized Ginny and Luna among them; Luna in particular seemed to be speaking crossly to Parvati Patil and her friend, who both seemed overcome with laughter.
Ernie and Susan were the farthest ahead of the group and must have heard some of their conversation, for Ernie puffed himself up importantly and declared loudly "I want you to know, Potter, that it's not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I."
Danny's stomach dropped, realizing the topic of conversation must have been Harry and his version of events from last June. It irked him that Harry had to deal with the mistrust of his own classmates on top of having experienced what he had, and he couldn't fathom how Harry must feel.
Even with—especially with—the solemn conversation topic, Danny felt a rush of gratitude towards Ernie for publicly supporting Harry. Parvati's friend's laughter had promptly withered with Ernie's words..
"Er, thanks very much, Ernie," Harry said, looking slightly shell-shocked by the declaration but pleasantly so.
Class began with yet another lecture imparting on them the importance of the upcoming OWLs, and Danny was beginning to associate the exams with the uncomfortable feeling he felt whenever someone mentioned the CATs or other standardized tests. They hadn't even finished two days of magic school and already his stomach was starting to turn at the pressure exuded by the OWL exams.
"That was good of you," Danny complimented quietly once he, Ernie, and Justin had been assigned to a plant tray with pots of ginger root. "Showing support for Harry, I mean."
"I may not have given Potter the benefit of the doubt in the past," Ernie replied just as quietly, "but I meant what I said about Dumbledore, and I don't think either of them would lie about something like this."
"What about you, Danny?" Justin asked, not unkindly. "You've been on the side of support from the get-go it seems, but you've only just moved here. You don't have any reason to disbelieve the Prophet."
Danny grimaced, focusing his attention on the ginger roots for a moment to buy himself some time. "I haven't really had time to buy into the media, I guess," he began neutrally. "I'm coming from a place where I haven't grown up with Dumbledore being lauded and suddenly discredited, with Harry being held on a pedestal to be scrutinized. This is mostly a blank slate to me."
Danny paused, taking the time to repot his ginger root in the silence. He looked up to meet Justin and Ernie's eyes. "I spent the train ride with Harry and his friends. He didn't seem messed up in the head to me. He's just a kid, like us, and he went through a really shitty ordeal. He just wants to be left alone, and people won't leave him to it. I'm more inclined to believe the person who's trying to keep his head down than anyone who's so singly focused on tearing him down."
Ernie looked at him for a long moment before giving Danny a soft grin. "You're all right, Danny," he said, giving Danny a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Danny grinned back, even as he winced at the repugnant smell of dragon dung introduced by the proximity of Ernie's gloved hand to his nose.
Danny scarcely had time to shovel food in his mouth in the time he had to travel from Herbology to the Great Hall and then to the Defense classroom in time for detention. He'd managed to inhale a sandwich by the time he spotted Harry standing from the Gryffindor table. Bidding his housemates a hasty farewell, he took one last gulp of water before hurrying towards Harry.
"Mind if I follow you?" Danny asked, catching up with Harry as they exited the Great Hall. "I have no idea where I'm going."
Harry shrugged, and they continued on.
As they walked, Danny scrunched up his nose in discomfort. He would have liked nothing more than to have showered before detention, but they hadn't exactly been given the time. They were lucky they even had time to grab food.
"If nothing else, at least Umbridge will have to deal with our stench for however long we're stuck there," Danny said, making idle conversation.
"If she knew we had Herbology immediately before detention, I doubt she would've scheduled it so early," Harry agreed. "Let's just hope she doesn't flood the room with perfume and incense like Trelawney does, then we'll really be in for it."
The pair arrived at Umbridge's office on the third floor, and after knocking and receiving an invitation to enter, Danny followed Harry into the room. Danny promptly balked at the office.
Danny had walked into Sam's personal version of Hell. It was overwhelmingly pink. Lacy covers and curtains adorned every available surface barring a single wall covered in ornamental plates with trussed up kittens. Throughout the office were vases full of dried flowers, each placed on their own doily.
I wonder if she sticks to dried flowers because live ones just immediately wither and die in her presence, Danny thought spitefully.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
Umbridge materialized to their left, her flowered robes allowing her to blend in with the tablecloth behind her. Harry tore his repulsed gaze from the cat plates with a start.
"Evening," Harry managed. Danny mumbled his own greeting.
"Well, sit down," she said, gesturing towards a small table with two uncomfortable looking chairs and two pieces of blank parchment.
Danny collapsed into the chair nearest him, and it took him a moment to realize that half of that collapse hadn't exactly been intentional. Danny blinked hard, finding that it took far more effort than it had just a few minutes ago at dinner. Sure, Herbology had been exhausting, but he hadn't felt quite so drained until this moment. Maybe the repugnant smell of dragon dung fertilizer was finally catching up with him?
"Er," Harry said, not yet moving towards his seat. "Professor Umbridge? Er—before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a...a favor."
Yikes, Danny thought, eyeing Harry warily. There was no way he could expect this would go well.
"Oh yes?" Umbridge prompted. Not well at all.
"Well I'm...I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper—"
Even as Harry continued his faltering request, the way Umbridge's face seemed to light up only suggested that she would take vicious satisfaction in shooting the request down.
"...Oh no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter..."
Yikes, Danny winced, watching Harry stiffen at Umbridge's continued response. Danny reflected on Hermione's request to keep Harry in line and once again severely doubted his ability to do so. Incredibly, Harry seemed to push the bait aside and sunk into his own chair
"There," Umbridge said sweetly, managing to patronize Harry without an ounce of condescension to her tone, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you boys are going to be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quill," she said as Harry and Danny both made movements towards their bags. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."
She handed them each a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. Danny looked around for an inkpot and frowned, finding nothing.
"Mr. Fenton, you'll be writing 'I must respect authority.'"
Danny's lips thinned.
"And Mr. Potter, you'll be writing 'I must not tell lies.'"
"How many times," Harry managed levelly. All things considered, Danny thought he and Harry were handling things very well.
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," Umbridge said. "Off you go."
"Do you have any ink? Or can we get that out?" Danny asked as she settled back at her desk.
"Oh, you won't need ink," Professor Umbridge said, sounding as though she were commenting on a passing joke.
Danny looked at the quill with a new light, wondering if he was actually holding a fancy pen. It would be a nice change, he marveled as he touched the quill to his parchment and wrote: I must respect authority. The words glistened back at him in a deep red, looking far more sinister than Jazz's journal writing.
A searing pain radiated from his right hand, and at first Danny attributed it to scar pain. He glanced at Harry as inconspicuously as he could manage, and found him staring at his own hand in barely restrained horror. Danny looked down at his own hand and withheld a gasp. It was not his scar that had burned, but the writing—his writing—etching itself into his skin.
Danny looked up at Umbridge and found her watching them, a not-so-pleasant smile stretched across her face.
"Yes?"
"Nothing," Harry said quickly, ducking his head back towards his parchment.
Danny held Umbridge's gaze with a frown, and her smile only seemed to stretch wider. Danny glanced at Harry, who was already writing his next line with a thin-lipped grimace. Danny swallowed thickly, and dropped his gaze back to his own paper. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Umbridge return to paperwork on her desk.
Magic detention sucks, Danny thought heatedly.
As Danny lowered the quill to parchment again, he paused, giving his hand a considering look. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to his already scarred hand, and if he was supposed to spend the next undetermined amount of time slicing his hand open...
Danny switched the quill to his left hand. Sure, he couldn't write as well with his left hand as his right, but he could manage it. He'd done it before on some exams days when his right arm was a bit too banged up from a ghost fight to function properly. He began to write again, and the words I must respect authority once again began to cut into his skin, now on his left hand.
Time wore on, and with it, Danny's energy. He had never felt such a zap in energy before, at least not without doing something. It wasn't just that he felt tired—he'd fallen asleep in class before due to late night ghost hunting—it was that his whole body felt submerged in a vat of molasses. Mundane tasks like lifting his hand to move to the next line felt like completing astronomical feats of athleticism, and his brain felt stuffed with cotton balls, his head almost bursting with a clouded sort of pressure that only increased as he continued to write.
His hand continued to heal over as he wrote, and if not for the fact that Harry's hand was also healing, Danny would have attributed it to a dangerous exposure of his accelerated healing. Danny wondered if it was the quill that was syphoning his energy—
"Mr. Fenton!"
Danny jerked, pausing in the monotonous writing as he looked up towards the shrill voice. Umbridge was watching him with a hawkish look while Harry, who was standing by Umbridge's desk, was shooting him poorly concealed looks of concern. When had Harry stood up? Was detention over?
"Mr. Fenton, clearly you are not taking your detention seriously if you're not going to put the effort in. I think I'll have you join Mr. Potter for the rest of the week."
Danny stared at her in horrified incredulity. He shared a brief look with Harry, then looked at his and Harry's papers. Sure, it was true that he'd written less than Harry, but it wasn't like he'd taken a break halfway through. He'd written—he'd carved—the entire time, but the longer the detention wore on, the more tired he felt. Even now, it was all he could do not to give in and rest his head on the table.
"Come here, Mr. Fenton," Umbridge said, and Danny had the distinct impression that it wasn't the first time the request had been made.
Danny stood from the desk, and promptly flung out a hand to steady himself against the desk. What was going on with him? It's not like he'd lost a significant amount of blood, he shouldn't feel this lightheaded at all.
Umbridge was watching him like a predator stalking its prey, and Danny forced himself to straighten up. He'd fought worse opponents with less energy before, he could face Umbridge despite his insoluble fatigue.
"Your hand, Mr. Fenton," she demanded softly, and Danny offered her the hand he'd carved with all night (When did the sun go down?). As she observed the reddened skin, Danny found himself glad that he'd opted to switch hands early on; he could only imagine the nightmare scenario of Umbridge discovering his scar.
"Yes, I think you'll benefit from a few more lessons," she said, letting go of his hand. Danny swallowed back bile; whether due to the thought of using that quill again or the ever-increasing fatigue and nausea, he wasn't quite sure.
"You may go," she said finally, dismissing them both.
The pair didn't need to be told twice, and they hurried out of the office. The moment they cleared the classroom, Danny paused, taking the chance to lean against the stone wall of the hallway. He breathed deeply through his nose, fighting to keep his nausea at bay.
"Danny?"
Danny hummed in acknowledgment, not quite trusting himself to open his mouth without puking at the moment. Although, he realized in relief, the nausea seemed to be quickly abating now that they were both in the hallway.
"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?"
"Er, no," Danny said, pushing himself off the wall. Perhaps he'd had a hot flash or something? The coolness of the wall had certainly helped him feel more refreshed. "No, I'm fine. I just...I don't know what happened in there."
Harry frowned, gaze drifting towards the classroom door. "Can you move?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Danny assured. He got the sense that Harry wanted to talk, but not outside Umbridge's classroom where she could overhear. Harry led him to a staircase that looked far less intimidating than the massive chamber of moving staircases and decided that two flights up was sufficient distance from Umbridge's classroom. Danny was grateful; despite his energy slowly returning to him, he wasn't eager to exert himself at the moment.
"What was that?" Harry asked finally.
"I don't know," Danny said, mouth twisting. He hadn't felt that drained of energy since wearing the Fenton Ecto-Skeleton, and he couldn't think of anything that would've caused it.
"Is there a spell that makes people feel fatigue like that? Maybe she just wanted an excuse to keep me there longer."
"None that I know of, but I wouldn't be surprised," Harry said, frowning further. "Hermione would probably know."
Danny snorted. Probably.
"I don't know why it would only affect you though."
"Yeah, you're the one she's got a crusade going against," Danny agreed. He almost felt back to one hundred percent now; he chanced a glance down at his hand and noted that the irritated redness had even dissipated.
"Maybe the thought of carving into my skin repeatedly for detention was a little stomach rolling," Danny said bitterly, unable to look at his hand any longer. "Is that normal for magic school? Because I'm perfectly content to sit in mind-numbing boredom like my old school—"
"No, that's not normal," Harry muttered, scowling at the back of his own hand. "Detention is usually cleaning classrooms, cauldrons, polishing trophies...we went into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid, once..."
"And we're gonna have to do it again for three more nights."
"It's rubbish she's making you come back," Harry said. "It's not your fault you're feeling unwell."
"Yeah..." Danny trailed off, wondering how to phrase his next words. "If...if that's not how detention is supposed to go, should we tell someone?"
Harry stiffened. "I...no."
"Why not?"
Harry grimaced, looking away without expounding on his answer.
Danny thought he understood though, despite how messed up he knew it was. It was the same reason he hadn't said anything about Spectra at first, the same reason (at least, one of the reasons) he never told his parents about Vlad, the same reason he never told anyone about his encounter with Dan. It felt like a personal battle, one that could only be solved on your own because you knew that introducing outside factors would only make the situation worse in ways you were too afraid to conceptualize.
"I think I get it," Danny said finally, and Harry's eyes snapped up to his incredulously. "You'd only be proving her right if you went to anyone for help. There's no evidence," he raised his hand in exhibition, "and you'd just been disciplined for spouting lies; all you'd be doing is feeding the Ministry's smear campaign against you."
"And you?" Harry asked, voice hesitant.
Danny shrugged, "I don't exactly have any evidence either. And I'm not about to try and make things harder for you."
Harry's shoulders slumped in apparent relief, and Danny took a moment to languish on how messed up their lives were that Harry was relieved he wouldn't go and tattle on their torturer.
This is your fault, Vlad, Danny thought spitefully, perhaps unfairly to the older halfa, but satisfying nonetheless.
"Listen, I know I never really said anything, but thanks," Harry said haltingly. "For sticking up for me with Umbridge. I know you had a bit of a row after class—"
"I should've done more, but Hermione would've set me on fire."
Harry snorted. "She's done that before..."
"That sounds like a story you need to tell me later."
Harry gave him a half-hearted grin before looking down the hallway. "It's late, we should get moving before someone gets on us for being out after curfew. I'll, uh, see you in Charms."
"Yeah."
By the time Harry disappeared around the corner, Danny had the sinking realization that he had no idea where he was. Sure, he had a vague picture in his mind of the path from the Entrance Hall to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but Harry hadn't pulled him in that direction in their haste to get away from Umbridge. And despite feeling back to normal now, at the time he had been in no state to take note of where they were going.
It was probably too late to run after Harry or shout for him.
"Shit."
"That's hardly appropriate language."
Danny jumped about a mile high before spinning around and scowling at the Friar. Danny was not at all a fan of how his ghost sense seemed to not work on the Hogwarts ghosts.
The Friar merely grinned at him. "Anything I can help with?" he asked merrily, as if he hadn't just spooked the magic out of Danny.
Danny sighed, "Actually, yeah. I'm kinda lost—"
"Say no more, I think I'm the perfect person to lead you through the halls of Hogwarts. Or perhaps," the Friar gave him a conspiring grin, "the walls of Hogwarts?"
Danny froze, squinting speculatively at the Friar. So he did know more than he let on, but how—?
"You're rather famous," the Friar said when Danny asked aloud. "Us ghosts don't have much to do with our time if not gossip, and it was a hot topic of conversation this summer when Danny Phantom was witnessed multiple times in London proper. And all it took was one sighting of you on the Kings Cross Platform—"
"So all the ghosts here know about me?" Danny said, torn between horror and incredulity. There was something to be said about his notoriety that he was well known among ghosts even beyond Amity Park, but if the ghosts here were all known gossips and had no problems with interacting with the human students, that didn't bode well for his ghost secret.
"Oh yes," Friar said happily, floating down the hallway that Danny assumed was the correct direction towards the Hufflepuff Common Room. Danny was quick to follow. "Sir Nick was sure you'd end up in Gryffindor with all of your 'valiant exploits.'"
The Friar seemed to be the slightest bit smug about how things turned out.
"Why are you so different from the Ghost Zone ghosts?" Danny asked. "The Hogwarts ghosts, I mean."
"It's not just us," Friar said. "Am I correct in assuming you have only dealt with muggle ghosts up until this point?"
"Muggle ghosts?" Danny repeated. "Is that the difference? The ghosts I fight are all muggles and the ghosts here are all wizards?"
The Friar didn't answer yet, instead taking an unexpected left turn through a wall.
Danny froze, looking up and down the hallway before shifting into ghost form and phasing through the appropriate wall. On the other side, Friar looked delighted.
"Imagine that each being is a glass vial," Friar began, floating at an ambling pace down the new corridor. "The vial can only hold a fixed amount, so once it's full, it cannot take any more."
"Okay..." Danny drawled, unsure of where the Friar was going with this analogy.
"Magical energy and paranormal energy, or ecto-energy, if you will, are similar substances, albeit quite different. They can coexist, as I'm sure the phone you mentioned will attest to, but they both take up space."
"Space in the person-vial, you mean," Danny said, trying to follow along.
"Yes," Friar said happily. "When we are born, our vials are empty, but as a wizard grows, their magical core produces magical energy and fills up the vial. Muggles, on the other hand, have no magical core and their vials remain empty. When a muggle dies, however, and their spirit passes beyond, their vial has the opportunity to accumulate ecto-energy, and if it acquires enough to fill the vial, that muggle becomes a ghost."
"'If it acquires...'" Danny repeated. "So not all muggles become ghosts? What causes one muggle to become a ghost when most others don't?
"Most people don't become ghosts," the Friar corrected. "The phenomena is limited with both muggles and ghosts, even if the process varies. With muggles, it is primarily a function of time, and that time is based on material attachment. The more focused a muggle is on something at the time of their death, the longer their spirit takes to pass on, and the more time they have to absorb ecto-energy."
"Ghostly obsession," Danny muttered, beginning to tie his own understanding of ghosts into the Friar's explanation.
"Precisely! That's also why you end up with some animal ghosts as well, as obsession and material attachment are not limited to humans."
"And then the unformed spirits that haunt the Ghost Zone are muggle spirits that didn't acquire enough ecto-energy to become a fully-formed ghost?" Danny asked, and the Friar nodded. That was actually kinda sad, Danny thought.
"Now wizards, on the other hand, already have a full vial when they die, and thus cannot take on ecto-energy when they die."
"How do they stick around then?"
"While muggle ghosts remain due to material attachment and thus retain a material form, wizard ghosts remain due to emotional attachment—"
"Which is why you're permanently intangible," Danny realized.
The Friar nodded again before sinking through the floor suddenly. Danny was quick to follow this time and was startled to find himself in the Entrance Hall.
"But what about me?" Danny asked. "I'm a wizard, but I was still able to absorb ecto-energy—"
"I'll profess to not knowing much about the circumstances of how you came to be half ghost," the Friar said with a grin. "However, as you are still an adolescent, I believe I can explain. As I said before, a wizard's magical core grows and produces more magical energy to fill their vial. As a child, your vial would not have been full and thus would have had room to take on ecto-energy."
"So what about when wizard children die completely? Do they become muggle ghosts?"
"No, they still remain as wizard ghosts," the Friar explained. "When a wizard dies, their magic becomes unusable, so even if their vial is full, it is not full of ecto-energy and thus they cannot sustain a material form. However, you'll notice that many wizard ghosts who were not magically mature upon their death have...abilities in this plane of existence. For instance, if you ever have the pleasure of meeting Myrtle, you'll see she has quite a command of the water in her Girls' Toilet. You, if I may theorize, are an exceptional case because as you are still alive, you are probably the only being in existence who has successfully merged magical and ecto-energy."
"So if I were to die all the way, I'd still have my ghost powers?"
"I believe so, but I would rather hope you won't be testing that theory any time soon," the Friar said seriously.
Danny was silent for a few minutes, and only spoke again as they passed the Hogwarts Kitchens. "What about memories?"
The Friar paused, giving Danny a considering look before sighing. "As wizard ghosts are tethered to their emotional attachment at the time of passing, it is inherent that they would retain their memories of life. It is believed that a person's memories are tied to their magical core when they pass on, and as muggles do not possess a magical core, they do not retain their memories, merely their base instincts associated with their material attachment.
"That being said, there is an exception," the Friar said softly. "The few muggle ghosts I have engaged with personally were not precisely muggles. They remember their past lives because they were born from wizards, despite having no magic of their own. People born from magic parents but are unable to use it themselves are known as squibs. It seems, despite being unable to use magic in life, that the smallest bit of magic must be contained within them, and their memories latch on to it during their death."
"Kinda ironic," Danny said, shifting back into human form after checking to make sure the hallway was deserted. "They aren't able to use magic in life but then get ghost powers in death."
"Indeed," the Friar said, smiling sadly.
"Well, thanks for showing me the way back," Danny said, approaching the barrels. "Even if I can't exactly use that path in front of my classmates."
The Friar laughed, "No, I suppose not."
"Listen, I know you said the ghosts here all know me, but—"
"We will endeavor to protect your secret," the Friar assured. "No living soul here need know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom are one and the same."
"Can you stick to Phantom, actually? It would probably be too obvious if people heard about Danny Phantom just when the new kid Danny arrived."
"Ah yes, good thinking. I believe that will be easy enough to arrange. Have a good night, Danny."
"You, too. Thanks again!"
The Friar floated off and turned through a wall before reaching the end of the hallway, and Danny grinned, tapping the appropriate rhythm on the barrel. Even if he couldn't use that path with his classmates, the Friar had just given him a great means by which to explore the castle at night.
Three months isn't bad, right?
Small note that I feel the need to point out: From watching the show, I've concluded that Danny is canonly ambidextrous. While we usually see him writing with his right hand, there's an episode where he's using a hammer with his left hand, which is typically a dominant hand skill. So while the bit about him switching hands during exams is my own headcanon, it's born from canon evidence rather than a convenient avoidance of messing with Danny's scar.
Do y'all wanna know something absurd? I've spent an inordinate amount of time pouring through all seven (okay, six, DH was useless) books to come up with a canon and believable class schedule for Hogwarts. Canon in that I respect what the books have provided, and believable in that I've filled in the blanks to the best of my ability.
That being said, I have blocked out the class schedule for each house's Fifth Year, and for consistency's sake, I have been trying to fill in all the years. The elective classes are a hell circle of their own, and I'm choosing to believe that they were given a guide as to which classes would overlap and thus couldn't be taken concurrently (unless you're Hermione in which case Time Travel™). I even went as far as to figure out the Professors' schedules, which, let me tell you, is a nightmare and a half.
In order for classes to occur as canon and to allow for every house to actually have class, I've had to double up everyone. So for instance, in the books Transfiguration, DADA, and Divination are apparently only Gryffindors, and Charms, History, and Astronomy never mention another house. Unless the entire school is in some weird time glitch or there are additional subject teachers that have never ever been mentioned, this is not possible. SO, Gryffindor shares Transfiguration, Divination, History, and Astronomy with Ravenclaw (because canon never mentions them sharing any classes with Ravenclaw and that's absurd), and Gryffindor shares Charms and DADA (in addition to Herbology) with the Hufflepuffs. Also, Gryffindor and Slytherin share Ancient Runes, but since Harry doesn't take Runes, he wouldn't have mentioned it. You can do the math on what that means for Danny and Hufflepuff.
One day I'll share with y'all the PowerPoint tables and charts I've made to block out the class schedule. In case you weren't already aware, I'm a NERD.
As always, thanks for reading! I look forward to hearing your thoughts :)
Peace out!
Sadie