So a lot of you have probably been waiting for the chapter to answer for Danny's ghost powers and form. So here it is: Chapter 4

Thank You SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed both in account and anonymously. You guys are great. I wish I could write back to those with no account, but I won't take up author's note space for other readers. Sorry guys. It's one of my pet peeves as a writer so I won't subject it to other people.

Night had fallen on Privet Drive and the Dursleys had all gone to sleep. Harry however was still wide-awake and had no intentions of visiting slumber town any time soon. How could he when he could finally reach the other half of his soul again?

It had technically never gone away as his more passive non-human traits had stayed behind. He could still see and hear better than any human on earth and he could still heal from injuries in a matter of hours that would normally take people months. Frostbite had told him that his ghost half had tried to alter his human self in an attempt to keep it on par with his Phantom form. It was unsuccessful for the most part, but it left Danny and now Harry in better form for it.

Another passive ability that Harry had held on to was his 'third eye'. It was a truly odd sense that let Harry in on how many people were nearby, and if they had anything supernatural about them. He couldn't tell what, but it separated them from average humans and paranormal, which had helped Harry know what to expect from possible enemies when he had been Danny.

Harry suspected that he still had his ghost sense as well, but he hadn't been near any ghosts and thus hadn't been given the opportunity test it out.

Powers that he had to put conscious effort into using had been practically off-limits to him though, aside from minor accidents to he couldn't control. His basic invisibility and intangibility that he had come to take for granted were completely beyond his depth. He was left grounded, as he could not find the power to fly like he once had, which had been his favorite thing about becoming a ghost in the first place. His more advanced powers like ectoplasmic manipulation, cryokinesis, duplication, body manipulation, overshadowing, telekinesis, and his ghostly wail were nothing more than pipe dreams. That didn't even include several other powers he developed when he had gotten older which included, but were not limited to: shape shifting, electrical manipulation, and the ability to make his own ghost portals.

Yeah, he had been pretty powerful.

Harry shook his head. That wasn't important right now! What was important now was that he had finally been able to use at least his most basic powers as a ghost earlier that day. Multiple times in fact.

Harry turned his attention to the noise upstairs and was satisfied to hear both Vernon and Dudley's snoring. It would take a cannon to wake his relatives up, which is just how the boy wanted it.

Harry took a deep breath and called upon his ghostly half again. He felt a chill spread through his entire being and a grin spread across his face. He willed himself to become intangible and muffled a yelp when he began to sink through his mattress.

Okay, so he might have been just a bit rusty.

He managed maintain just the proper proportions of tangibility to keep him from sinking into the basement and directed his attention to the cupboard door. It was locked, but that didn't mean anything to a ghost now did it? Harry stuck out his hand and as expected, it went straight through the barrier like it wasn't even there.

The green-eyed boy smirked and crawled through the door to his 'room', ending his punishment early. The ravenette then strolled triumphantly down the hall to the large mirror Petunia had hung for when she had to gussy up on her way out of the house. He didn't usually get more than a passing glance at his reflection on most days. His Uncle Vernon would accuse him of being vain if he was ever caught staring for too long. That said, he actually hadn't really had any good idea of what he looked like at all.

The sight that greeted him was rather surprising. He actually resembled his parents for one thing. Danny Fenton had never really taken after either his mom or dad and it was kind of nice to see his parents reflected in himself now that he thought about it. He could see his dad's wild mane and his strong jaw line. He could also make out his mother's heart-shaped face and emerald-green eyes. Curiously enough, the combination of his parents' traits made him look almost the same as he did as Danny Fenton. His eyes weren't blue this time and his face was a just a bit thinner, but the resemblance really was uncanny. He might have been able to throw it off a bit if he wore glasses like his father, but his sight was better than perfect so that wasn't happening.

The boy blinked and cursed silently for getting sidetracked.

Harry took a step back now and focused on what he had needed the mirror for in the first place. One white ring split into two from his midsection; each traveled separately either up or down his body. Harry closed his eyes and sighed, feeling absolutely fantastic about being Phantom again.

When he opened his eyes though, he was confused. Standing in the mirror was not Phantom, but twenty-four year old Danny Fenton. What the heck? That was unexpected; he thought he'd lost that form. He kinda figured that was the trade he got for becoming Harry Potter, but if was being honest it was a kind of relief to know that part of him wasn't gone forever.

Still, Harry didn't want Fenton, he wanted Phantom, and so he tried again. This time when the rings split over his body he was satisfied to find that gravity no longer felt like it applied to him. This triumph was short-lived as the white-haired boy looked in the mirror again to find that his Phantom form was now four years old.

He looked the same as he did before he entered the Veil. He had his black and white HAZMAT suit with the DP symbol. The plain white piece of cloth that he wore as a belt in his teenaged years had been replaced with something resembling a white version of batman's utility belt, so he could hold his weapons arsenal (weapons, by the way that he noticed were missing). His boots were tipped at the heel and toes with cold iron, as were his knuckles for combat with fae enemies. It wasn't light, but he could lift it. His hair was still short and white. His eyes were still a toxic green, and he still looked tanner than a ghost had any right to be.

Except that he was four.

…Goddammit all.

He didn't know why this surprised him or why he had expected that his ghost form would be unaffected by his reincarnation. In fact now he understood why it was so hard to use his powers before; his ghost form was forced to start all over again and Harry had never had to deal with ghost powers developing through childhood. Puberty, yes; Childhood, no. For all he knew they would take more time to develop than before.

The half dead boy wanted to curse at his reflection, but restrained himself. He might start quiet, but if he let himself go he would probably wake his family up and they did not need any more incentive to call him a freak. Or know that he had escaped from his closet.

He sent a dirty look upstairs. Back talking to his Uncle Vernon was probably one of the dumbest things he had done in a while, but he couldn't really bring himself to regret it. He just wished he didn't have to spend, what would probably be, the next week under the stairs.

Oh who was he kidding? There was no way Harry was actually gonna stay in that cupboard the whole time. Things were going to change around here. The Dursleys may know what to be on the lookout for when magic presents itself, but they're going to find themselves in a whole new ballgame when ghosts decide to get sneaky. And there was nothing in the world more stealthy than a ghost.

A week had past since Harry had first been sentenced to the cupboard. Mind you he didn't actually stay in it the whole time, but just the daytime. At night he would sneak out and stretch his ghostly tail. Harry took great pleasure in invisibly exploring the sky above his neighborhood. One day when he felt particularly adventurous, Harry had traveled to the town and even made it to the outskirts of London. It's not like the Dursleys would ever take him anywhere so he would just make do.

He'd make little tests to see what powers worked and which didn't, careful so that the Wizarding Guys in White, if they existed, wouldn't catch him. He really didn't want his first contact with the magical community to be his arrest.

So far he could only turn invisible, intangible, fly and manipulate ecto- energy to a small extent. He was able to make at least one duplicate and was working on its lasting power; it was so much easier to do it in this life since he actually knew how from the get-go. His strength and durability had also been greatly bolstered, but not quite to the level it was before. He could deal with that though, all that mattered now was that he could fly again.

Knowing that had boosted his mood so much that not even isolation in the cupboard could bring him down. However spending hours in the small space was boring and even though Harry had usually used it for the sleep he didn't get in the night hours, the ghost child had decided that he was tired of being locked up.

Harry invisibly phased out of his cupboard and looked into the kitchen where he heard his Aunt and Uncle talking about the neighbors from across the street. Harry rolled his eyes; it was really sad when two adults were even shallower than the A-list at Casper High. At least Paulina would have thought real magic was cool, if only for the fact that it could do household chores for her.

Dispelling thoughts of his previous bullies, Harry snuck up on two of his current ones. His aunt was washing the pots herself, since He was not available to do it at the moment, and insulting the young couple across the street's wind chimes that hung harmlessly on their deck. Harry had liked the kaleidoscope effect it had when the light reflected off its small mirror shards. His guardians seemed to disagree with him.

"Where does that woman think she lives anyway? A commune?" Harry raised an invisible eyebrow, "Something like that has no place in a respectable neighborhood like this one," respectably boring, Harry was tempted to point out.

The ghost boy had just about enough of his xenophobic Aunt's complaints and leaped straight for her. Rather than crashing into her like any normal person would have, he was simply absorbed into her person. Petunia stood rigid for a second before looking to her husband who was half reading the morning paper and listening to whatever his dutiful wife said. Perfect.

"Speaking of respect," 'Petunia' drawled, "don't you think that boy learned his lesson by now?"

Vernon practically threw down his newspaper, "He threw dinner on the floor darling! And started attacking it like a savage!" The half ghost winced inwardly. That really wasn't one of his brightest moments.

"Yes he did, but it was probably just all of that freakishness building up with nowhere to go," Harry tried. He might as well try and use the Dursleys' completely backwards logic against them, "I'm sure a whole week in that tiny cupboard squashed any strangeness from that night," Vernon stroked his chin as if what she said had made any sense whatsoever and nodded a bit reluctantly. He looked at her curiously though.

"We had agreed to let the boy spend another two weeks," Harry almost sputtered, "in there. Why let the boy off early?" Well, Harry had felt a little guilty for temporarily removing someone of their free will, but somehow Vernon had not only managed to make him feel justified, but also completely vindicated. Oh well, time for more Dursley logic.

"We shouldn't let the boy stay in there too long," the possessed woman 'reasoned', "after all, the longer he stays in there, the longer he gets out of doing house work!" Harry made sure to make Petunia sound extra indignant.

Vernon's eyes bulged out as he looked at his wife's hands, which were currently holding a pot and a dishcloth. His mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Poppet put those down. You shouldn't be forced to do those things," Harry forced Petunia's face to smile; of course she shouldn't. Let the four-year old in the closet do it!

When his hefty uncle lifted himself from his chair Harry took that as the signal to book it from his awful aunt's body and fly back under the stairs. It was a relief to get out of the woman; Harry didn't really want to spend much time in that lady's mind. He did learn that she kept everything she got from his mother in the attic though. Score!

The door to his cupboard was ripped open and most the light that would have filled his tiny room was blocked by his Uncle's hulking silhouette. Vernon's meaty paws grabbed onto Harry's scrawny arm and yanked him out from the enclosed space.

"Well I hope you enjoyed your vacation boy," The man stated like solitary confinement was his nephew's preferred method of relaxation, "but it's time you get back to work; starting with the dishes. Your aunt has been doing all your work for you, so you had better be grateful!" Harry had almost said that most adults do their own dishes anyway, but quickly clamped his trap shut in case his Uncle remembered that he had locked his nephew up for being lippy in the first place and decided the scarred child didn't learn his lesson yet. He totally didn't, but that wasn't the point.

Instead, Harry just stood up and said, "Yes Uncle Vernon," before walking into the kitchen to relieve his aunt from her kitchen duties.

When he approached his aunt in the kitchen she turned around and jumped a bit.

"How did you get out of your room boy?!" She demanded. Luckily she wasn't loud enough for her husband to hear.

"Uncle Vernon said I was done being lazy and it was time to do the chores again," Petunia seemed to think it over for a moment before being satisfied with his answer. She then shoved the pot and rag she was holding into Harry's chest and declared:

"Well don't just stand there looking stupid! Get to work!" And with that Mrs. Dursley stomped out of the room like Harry had just insulted her. She didn't see the victorious grin on her nephew's face.

Life with the Dursleys suddenly became a bit more bearable to Harry. He still slept in a cupboard, he was still expected to cook and do all the chores, his aunt and uncle still made sure to tell him how much of a freak he was when they had the chance, and Dudley still picked on him. However, an invisible sandwich or two that he hid from sight would make sure he got more to eat than just table scraps. He was no longer in danger of suffering permanent damage via malnutrition. Duplication (he could only do one right now for about a half an hour) made the chores go by in half the time. Petunia and Vernon had suddenly found themselves very sympathetic to his plight and convincing each other to let up on the boy's unreasonable punishments, only to not remember doing so later. Harry had tried to avoid doing that last one too much, not only would he possibly get blamed for it somehow (and they wouldn't be wrong), but it just didn't feel right to overpower someone's free will like that. No matter how good the cause, it was still wrong and Harry knew it. And he would never stoop so low if the Dursleys didn't keep asking for it!

Dudley still tried to pick on him, but he had a lot more trouble finding his favorite punching bag. Said punching bag would usually just hide and run from his dense cousin, but he figured that he'd try to shake up his routine today. Harry invisibly transformed into Phantom. He didn't bother to say his catch phrase. Tucker and Sam didn't need a warning; they hadn't for a long time. Now a white-haired, four-year old was floating where Harry Potter had been previously standing.

Said kid rushed off into the sky and flew into town. He hovered unseen over the downtown area in order to find something to do. It had been forever since he had been off Privet Drive!

He thought of going to an electronics store, but quickly remembered that he had no money to spend. It would probably just have been depressing anyway, seeing as the computing software had not made any breakthroughs worth mentioning yet for the average consumer. For once, he was glad Tucker wasn't with him. Being so close, yet so far from his beloved gadgets would have been torture for him.

Now that Harry thought about it, he wouldn't be able to do much downtown without any money. He was also a little kid without his parents, so that might set off some alarms too. He could turn into Fenton of course, but that didn't solve the money issue.

His gaze caught itself on a movie theatre and he felt like squealing when he saw one of the titles playing. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to miss and way too ironic!

Harry let out a slightly impish snicker, before landing imperceptively in front of the theatre doors and sneaking into the next showing of The Ghostbusters.

Of course you would Danny…

*I don't own The Ghostbusters by the way.

So yeah, the logo to his suit hasn't changed cuz almost all changes to his suit in canon were done by someone actively messing with it. Even my little add ons were just something he improvised in his later career as a conscious choice. If anything were to happen to the logo in this story it would have to be because an outside factor would have to meddle with the suit. It doesn't update itself.

The veil was the one to take away his weapons cuz apparently it has its own inter-dimensional security *shrugs*

*Special note I got at least 164 people to read my story from beginning to current chapter, 870 views, 34 follows and 16 favs, but only 13 reviews? Guys just a simple 'I liked it' would be great. If you like a person's story you should let them know. It's what you want for your stories so try and return the favor!