In which a grievous misunderstanding is made

Danny was supremely grateful that, among the other possessions Danni and their human friends had brought him, he had found a few pens. Quills were, in his opinion, kind of stupid. There was a reason that Muggles had switched to pens and pencils.

He made a mental note to thank his sister and buddies for their gifts later on in his letter. For now, though, best to tell them about the giant death snake and how he may have done irreversible damage to British magical society (and how he didn't really care). He was in the middle of a sentence when the world went blue.

Well, not entirely blue. It was just that everything in the Hufflepuff Common Room had been tinted with cerulean, turning some of the yellow furniture green. With the blueness came stillness. Nothing, not the prefects, not the portraits, not even the crackling fire, moved.

A huge smile threatened to split Danny's face. One hand grasped the medallion which had appeared on his chest. The other laid down the pen. He hopped into the air, rings flaring around his waist. "Clockwork!"

The age-shifting time ghost smiled. "Hello yourself, Daniel. I trust that you like your new accommodations?"

The halfa snorted. "No. Please tell me you're here to rescue me. Please. I don't think the wizards can survive much more of me."

Clockwork's companion, whom Danny hadn't even noticed, cleared its nonexistent throat. Danny started. What in the worlds was an Observant doing here?

The only explanation he could think of involved him being in trouble. He wasn't quite certain what he was accused of this time- how was it his fault that he'd been kidnapped by wizards and dragged off to Britain?- but the Observants didn't exactly like him. It was entirely possible that they were using his absence from Amity Park as an excuse for… something.

"For once, they aren't trying to eliminate you," Clockwork assured him. Once again, Danny wondered if the fulling ghost could read minds or if he was really just that good at reading people.

"He speaks the truth," the Observant admitted. It sounded angry, just as its kind usually did whenever faced with Danny, but for once, the anger wasn't directed at him. That was new. "Daniel Fenton-Phantom, the Council has a task for you. If you choose to accept it, we will release you from the magic keeping you in Britain and prevent the wizards from recapturing you. If you do not, Clockwork and I will leave you to your own devices."

"Sign me up." If Clockwork hadn't been there, he would have been a bit more suspicious of the Observant's offer. But he trusted the time ghost implicitly. His guardian wouldn't let anything happen to him.

The Observant nodded. "Minutes ago, your human friends arrived at the Halo de Sondiscoj to ask after the death record of Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Oh, so that was Voldemort's real name.

"The clerk who gave them the record discovered some… irregularities." The giant eyeball twitched. "Seven of them. I don't suppose you have ever heard of Horcruxes?"

"No, but they sound nasty. What are they?"

Fire flared in the Observant's eye. "They are an abomination!" it cried. "And that- that- that wizard has created seven of them!"

Danny glanced at Clockwork, pleading for a better explanation. The time ghost obliged. "When a person commits murder- not manslaughter in self-defense, not death in battle, but cold-blooded, premeditated murder- his soul tears. Some wizards have discovered a way to take advantage of this split. When they commit the murder, they perform a ritual that will send the soul fragment from their body into a vessel of their choice."

The halfa's face paled until it was whiter than his hair. The thought of someone willingly, permanently sundering his soul…. It was enough to make him shudder. And the full-breed ghosts, who were more soul than body, were even more horrified.

"This Voldemort guy made seven of those things?"

"Yes," the Observant hissed. "One has, thank the Ancients, been destroyed, but the others are still at large."

Danny nodded. "You want me to destroy the others. Of course I'll do it. Where are they?"

The Observant recited a list of objects and names.

Danny stared. "Wait. Harry Potter's a Horcrux? How does that even work? I mean, Voldemort's tried to kill him how many times?"

"He messed up on the Horcrux preparation ritual before he went to kill Harry," Clockwork explained. "When he tried to create a Horcrux with the child's death, his magic backfired, separating him from his body and knocking off another portion of his soul."

"…So he made a Horcrux without realizing it."

"Indeed."

"Well, okay. He's a wizard. I guess I can accept that he's done some stupid things in his day. But how the heck am I supposed to get the Horcrux out of Harry without killing him?"

"You are a halfa, are you not?" the Observant asked.

Danny slapped himself on the forehead. "Oh. Duh. I get it."

Clockwork chuckled. "I told you he was intelligent enough to understand."

Danny smiled his thanks, began to plan aloud. "Okay. I don't want to lug my stuff around the country with me, so I'll leave Harry and the crown-diadem-thingy until last. That way I can grab my stuff and head out. First I'll get that locket- too bad the poor elf-guy didn't kill it already- then the goblet, because they're both in London…. I'll take the Horcrux out of Nagini without killing her, just to make sure I can, then get the ring." He nodded. "And I might as well capture Voldemort too while I'm at it." He had a plan and an escape. His half-life was good.

"Make sure that the ring itself is unharmed," the Observant instructed. "Then deliver it to us."

"What's so special about the ring?"

"It can summon any spirit whose true name is known to the summoner," Clockwork explained.

"Oh. Yeah, I can see why you'd want that in the Ghost Zone. So I'll de-Horcrux the snake, de-Horcrux the ring, tie up Voldie, then swing by Hogwarts and de-Horcrux Harry and the crown. Actually, I'll just de-Horcrux everything instead of actually, you know, murdering them. It'll give me practice for Harry."

The Observant nodded regally. "A good plan, Danny Fenton-Phantom. You may keep the other items so long as we receive the ring."

Clockwork grinned. "I have a feeling that you'll appreciate the diadem especially."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry. You'll find out. Now, did you want me to remove the curse now or should we wait?"

Danny became like a kid in a candy shop, practically jumping up and down with excitement. "Now please. I mean, I can't destroy the Horcruxes until it's removed, and you want me to destroy them right away, right?"

"We do indeed," the Observant agreed.

Clockwork placed his hands on the halfa's temples. "What I'm going to do is accelerate your acquisition of immunity," he explained.

"…That means that in a few seconds, I'll have the magical immunity of a fulling, right?"

"Exactly," he confirmed. "There. Done."

Danny focused on the spell Dumbledore had cast on him. As he felt it dissolve, a grin threatened to split his face in two. "It's gone. It's gone! Thank you, Clockwork, thank you!" He wrapped the time ghost in a hug. Heck, he was almost happy enough to hug the Observant!

"Good luck, Danny."

"The Council appreciates your service."

The two ghosts backed into a portal. Danny flashed back into his human form, resumed his old position. The blue tint faded from the world. Time started up again.

Still smiling, Danny scrawled another paragraph onto the letter. He could easily take Malcedema with him when he left Hogwarts, but she probably wouldn't appreciate travel by Infi-map. No, he should give her a letter and send her home. That was much more considerate.

On his way out of the Common Room, he stopped by Ernie. "Hey. Remember what I said earlier today?"

The other Hufflepuff nodded. His eyes were very wide. "You mean you've already found a way back?"

Danny's expression of joy was answer enough.

"We'll owl you," Justin promised. "Tell you how C.U.R.E. is doing. And we'll tell the professors that you're hiding out in a secret passage or something so they don't look for you back in America."

Danny laughed softly. "You guys are evil geniuses," he declared. "And to think that everyone else thinks us 'Puffs are stupid. No, you're only pretending to be nice and innocent." He extended his hand, grasped Justin's in a firm clasp. "Good luck, you guys." He shook with Ernie. "And don't worry. You'll be a great leader. You'll make Hufflepuff proud."

That said, he crawled out the barrels into the hall. Soon he arrived at the Owlery, where Malcedema flew down to land on his shoulder. "You up for a trip to America?" he asked. "You know, to your home. This place was never meant to be your home- that's back in Amity Park with me." He petted her back, gentle as can be. "Actually, I'll probably be there before you."

Malcedema stuck her beak in the air. Yeah, right, she seemed to say.

"Wanna race?"

Birds were incapable of grinning, but no one had told Malcedema that. Somehow she managed to grin without the aid of lips.

"I'll take that as a yes." Danny tied the letter to her leg and tossed her into the air. "See you in Amity Park!"

He watched the owl fly for a few moments before closing his eyes. "I'm going ghost."

"This is horrible," Hermione announced. "Horrendous. He's leading a rebellion against the teachers. The teachers!"

"I'm a bit more concerned about the Death Eater thing," Ron said dryly. "And how he got into the Chamber of Secrets. How could he if You-Know-Who hadn't told him?"

"And I'm a bit more concerned about his following," Harry agreed. "Because in all honesty, if we didn't know that he's done something bad enough to warrant a stay in Azkaban, I would join that group of his. I want Snape and Umbridge gone as much as anybody. Don't look at me like that, Hermione. You know they're awful."

"Filch and Binns too," Ron agreed, "though in different ways."

"I'll admit that their teaching styles leave much to be desired," Hermione hissed, "but considering that the rebellion against them is being orchestrated by a criminal who is apparently in contact with You-Know-Whom, I think we should stay out of C.U.R.E."

Harry held up his hands defensively. "I know that. We both know that, right, Ron?"

"Mm-hm."

Hermione huffed. "Can you get out the map, Harry? If I were Fenton, I would write home sometime tonight, if only to warn my parents that I was about to get expelled."

"Of course." The wizard dug his inheritance out from his pockets. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good. Or at least, Fenton is." He scanned the map. "Can't find him. I think he's in the Hufflepuff Common Room."

"Why was it that your dad and his mates never got there?" Ron grumbled.

"It says in Hogwarts, A History that the Hufflepuff Common Room is the only dormitory with a security system," Hermione explained absently. "No one has ever been able to penetrate it. Helga was very protective of her badger cubs."

Ron shuddered at the mention of badgers. "And speaking of those things, d'you think he'll give one to You-Know-Who? I mean-" He glanced apologetically at Hermione "-Fenton is Muggle-born, so he'll have to prove himself before You-Know-Who lets him join. Bringing an army of evil ghostly monsters would definitely qualify."

"But didn't you just say that he's already proven himself? If You-Know-Who wasn't impressed with Fenton, he wouldn't have told him how to enter the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry frowned slightly. "I just thought of something. If he is Muggle-born, why is he joining a nutter whose goal in life is to eliminate non-wizards? Seems a bit odd, don't you think?"

"People do strange things in the name of revenge, Harry," Hermione said. "And remember what Ernie told us yesterday. He doesn't seem to like his parents much." She smiled ruefully. "Not that this is the first time a less-than-pure-blooded wizard has joined You-Know-Who's campaign. He is himself a half-blood."

Harry nodded; Tom Marvolo Riddle was indeed a half-blood. Then, glancing back down at the map, he grinned. "I was right. He was in the Common Room, but he's coming out now." A pause as he scanned the rest of the map, half-expecting to see a dot designating Tom Marvolo Riddle "…. Please tell me that that dot on the third story isn't really labeled 'Overlord Randall.'"

"…I wish I could, Harry. I wish I could."

"How did that happen?" Ron whimpered. "Because that thing scares me, mates. I don't want it to be overlord of an entire House!"

"And technically," Hermione moaned, "honey badgers aren't even badgers. I think they're more closely related to the weasel."

"If you say so," Harry muttered, still nonplussed. "Oh, look. I think- yeah, Fenton's heading to the Owlery."

"Where's that monster of his going?"

Harry's eyes went wide. "…Moaning Myrtle's bathroom!"

"What?" Hermione snatched the map. "He is!"

"And now he's going through the wall," Ron observed. "And now he's vanished. Harry, unless my memory fails me, that's the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets."

"How did an animal find a chamber that's remained hidden for centuries?" demanded Hermione.

"Maybe Randall learned from his master," Harry suggested.

Ron nodded. "And of course, Randall's master learned from his master. There's no other way he could have gotten that basilisk skin."

"Fenton's in the Owlery," Harry observed, bringing them back onto topic. "Come on, Ron. We need brooms now." He dropped the map, narrowly missing Danny's transformation.

The redhead grinned. "Remember that I get your Firebolt tonight!"

"I remember, I remember."

They repeated (or at least intended to repeat) their plan from last time: hit the owl carrying Fenton's letter with a Body-bind, then tear the letter from its stiff talons. Unfortunately (for them), Danny had decided to use his new owl, Malcedema. She did not appreciate being shot at by wizards. She was rather like Danny that way.

With the characteristic bomb-like screech of her species, the owl dove for Harry. He dodged the feathery Bludger, supremely grateful for his Quidditch experience.

Ron, though, lacked his friend's experience. Sure, he was on the Quidditch team too, but he hadn't been Keeper for long. Malcedema fell on him, talons tearing, shrieking at the top of her lungs. Ron's answering shrieks were considerably less ferocious and much more terrified. "Gerroff me! Gerroff me, you bloody bird!"

Malcedema dove, barely avoiding Harry's Body-bind. It hit Ron instead. The redhead went stiff. The younger boy swore. He whipped his wand around, firing another volley of curses. At the same time, he swerved his broom around, attacking her physically.

The owl was an excellent flyer, but she wasn't the youngest Seeker in over one hundred years. Harry grabbed her by the wing. She struggled, but another Body-bind put an end to that.

That was when Harry realized that Ron was sliding off the broom. He'd been leaning slightly to the left when his friend's hex had hit. He hadn't fallen off quite yet, but inevitably would in another few seconds. Harry shot a finite incantatem at his friend. Ron, cursing, dragged himself upright. "I hate that bird," he declared. "And that badger. No- both badgers."

Malcedema shot him a baleful glare. Evidently the feeling was mutual.

"It wants to kill me," the redhead added. "I think it wants to kill both of us."

"Let's just duplicate the letter and let the owl go."

"Are you mad, mate? The second that thing is released from the Body-bind, it'll come right at us. Just wait for the spell to wear off naturally. The bird probably…." He trailed off. "Scratch that. I don't want to give it ideas."

"Okay, then." Harry cast geminio at the epistle. "You've got the faster broom, Ron. Will you drop this one off somewhere by the walls? Thanks."

When they returned to the ground, Hermione took one look at their battle wounds and gasped, "Do you need Madame Pomfrey?"

"I'm fine," Ron assured her. "Let's just read the letter already."

"He's used the lemon juice technique again," Hermione observed. "See how much blank space there is?" A quick spell later, and the true letter was revealed.

Dear everyone,

An introduction: This lovely lady is Malcedema the greater sooty owl. She hails from Australia, the land of deadly monsters. She seems to dislike wizard profs almost as much as I do, so we get along great. She likes being tickled under the beak.

You guys are awesome, as is Sir Randall Meme the Ferocious. He has adjusted very well to Hogwarts. In fact, my Housemates have voted (yes, voted) him Overlord of Hufflepuff. He's also become the attack mascot of my revolution thing and an object of adoration for dozens of teenage (and, admittedly, preteen) girls. In other words, he's living the good life. Well, figuratively. He's not exactly alive….

Dumbledore, just like I predicted, is in the way of my plans. Therefore he must be utterly crushed. And I have just the plan to do it! By the time I'm done, he'll be begging for Voldemort's tender mercies. One hint: Remember what Sam, Tucker and I did to the Nasty Burger that one time? No, not the time with the explosion where everyone almost died. The other time, with Vlad and McMaster's and all that. Picture that, but with a ghostly honey badger and an army of enraged teenaged wizards. It'll be awesome.

The revolution is actually a lot more successful than I expected. There's a lot of pent-up rage here at Hogwarts, what with the GIANT DEATH SNAKE ATTACKS and all. I might have just destabilized a large portion of British magical society, but oh well. Omelets and eggs, you know. But my point

Here the paragraph stopped. The Gryffindors had no idea why.

I'd write more, but right now I have Voldemort stuff to do. And by 'Voldemort stuff,' I mean that I'm going to go kill the Horcruxes.

Much love,

Danny

'Kill the Horcruxes.'

'Kill.'

The three Gryffindors had never heard of Horcruxes. Not Harry, who had one in his head. Not Ron, who had been raised in the world of magic. Not Hermione, who read everything she could get her hands on. Not one of them had any idea that Horcruxes were soul vessels, bad things that had to be destroyed.

All they saw was a proper noun, a name in the plural. So they reached a conclusion that was as inevitable as it was wrong: The Horcruxes were a family who had done something to irritate Voldemort, and Danny was going to kill them. Was probably killing them right at that moment.

Hermione's face went ghostly white. She looked ready to be sick.

They had delayed far, far too long. Now there was only one thing they could do.

"We need to go to Dumbledore. Now."

The sad thing is, from their perspective, that conclusion is totally logical. Horcrux does look kind of like a name, doesn't it?

Rue-the-day from last chapter: 7.37.

Next chapter: Dumbledore, Horcruxes, and another grievous misunderstanding.