"Sorry about this," Jake muttered to Danny. It was Wednesday morning, and Jonathan Long insisted on dropping them off at school. Haley had been dropped off first, early as always, but getting a ride meant that Jake, for once, wouldn't be late.

Considering he was stuck with Danny, he'd rather be late. Rotwood's class was first.

"It could be worse, right?" Danny said, glancing out the window as they approached the front of the school.

"Doubt it," Jake returned.

"Here you go, Jakers!" Jonathan said. "You and Danny stick together like glue, and I'll see you two when you get home after school."

"Sure, Dad. Thanks," Jake said, climbing out of the car. Danny followed.

For a ghost, he wasn't as conspicuous as he could be. Without the jumpsuit thing on, he actually kind of looked like a normal teenager. If you took away the stark white hair and slight glow, at least. But even normal-looking, he was still recognizable as Danny Phantom. Rotwood would figure things out in an instant.

"How long can you go invisible for?" Jake asked.

"I'm not sure," Danny admitted. "It's not something I've actually tested myself for in terms of endurance."

Jake sighed. "Because of that camouflage thing you can do, right?"

"Sort of."

"And you're sure you can't do that now?"

Danny rubbed the back of his neck in what Jake had by now realized was a nervous habit. "It wouldn't work as well here as back home," he said slowly. "I'd still stick out here."

"You want to head back to the shop? I can tell you how to get there. It's not a long flight."

Danny hesitated. "Didn't your dad phone the school or something?"

"Mom managed to get the phone from him before he said too much. She said that my cousin would be joining me sometime after my first class. They only talked to the school secretary, but Rotwood will probably find out. You're safer elsewhere."

"And you'll be in trouble if I'm not around," Danny pointed out. He flicked out of sight at that instant, there one moment and gone the next. "But I'll play it safe," Danny's voice continued, "and catch up with you after your first class."

"What are you going to do?"

"Honestly?" There was a pause. "I'm going to see if I can get Jazz Fenton out of class long enough to take a phone call. I kinda want to know what her parents are up to."

Jake chuckled. "If you don't think this Jazz will take your call, why not phone the other one?"

Danny became visible again for a moment. "Because Danny Fenton," he said, quite simply, "skips class a lot, and if he's there, he's probably asleep. Besides, Jazz is the more reliable Fenton kid when it comes to getting information about what her parents are up to. Danny doesn't know half the time." With a half smile, Danny vanished.

Huh. Maybe that was another reason Phantom was sore about taking the name Danny Fenton. For all that they must still be friends, Fenton sounded like a bit of a slacker, or at least someone who didn't pay a lot of attention to things going on around him.

When Jake was reporting this to Trixie and Spud, however, it became clear very quickly that Trixie, at least, didn't share his opinion. "You don't know that, Jakey," she said. "If you just look at the bare bones of it, this Fenton kid sounds like you."

"Me?" Jake said indignantly.

"Yeah, it kinda does, dude," Spud agreed. "I mean, skipping class for a dragon emergency, falling asleep because you were up all night on another dragon emergency, missing things because you're too focussed on other dragon stuff…."

Jake huffed. "Okay, fine. But at least I've got an excuse. Fenton probably doesn't."

"Maybe not," Trixie allowed as they took their seats in Rotwood's class, "but you can't rule it out."

"Yeah, he might be like me," Spud said.

"What, someone who's going to be a one-man band when he grows up?" The sarcasm in Trixie's voice was unmistakable.

Spud scoffed. "I gave that up ages ago, Trix. I'm going to be one of those people who tests out video games." He started miming playing a game for emphasis.

Trixie raised an eyebrow. "Right. If you say so, Spud. So what did you actually mean, then?"

Spud dropped his hands. "I mean someone that everyone underestimates. I looked up some more stuff about the Fentons last night. They're, like, a family of geniuses. You ever hear about the extremely rare purple back gorilla?"

"Uh, no." Jake had heard of a lot of things, but purple back gorillas weren't among them.

"Well, Danny Fenton was the one who realized that one of the last two male gorillas alive was actually a female. So, you know, they can breed the species again. For a little while."

Jake made a face. "I did not need to know that, Spud."

"Yeah, you got a point beyond the whole mating thing?" Trixie asked.

Spud shrugged. "It just sounds like one of those stories that should have a moral. You know, the not judging a book by its cover type of thing."

"You mean," Jake said, feeling a bit ashamed of himself now, "not making assumptions about this kid before I actually meet him?"

Spud blinked. "Well, I guess. I was just thinking about judging books by their covers and not getting close enough to gorillas to see what they actually were, but, yeah, that makes sense."

The three of them quieted down when Rotwood entered the room. He glared at Jake throughout most of the class, found reason to give him detention and fail his latest assignment, but otherwise couldn't do much. Ridicule, however, went a long way, and despite the fact that Rotwood had retracted the whole thing about Jake thinking he was a dragon, Jake knew it had not been forgotten.

Brad had reminded him of it yesterday morning, in fact.

And Rotwood had many reasons to be angry with him now. Jake hadn't exactly been careful when he'd been in Rotwood's to destroy any evidence he might have. He was also the reason that Rotwood's precious ghost specimen was gone, along with the cage he'd been keeping it in. Rotwood had ended up making a fool of himself in front of the media (and, presumably, his peers) again. And at least half the class knew that Rotwood had claimed to have captured a ghost, and despite the fun they'd had in sharing ghost stories, no one there had believed him.

The fact that today continued the lecture on ghosts, and, more specifically, the various types of ghosts, probably didn't help matters too much.

"Mr. Long," Rotwood called as the bell rang to signal the end of class, "wait a moment. I wish to speak with you."

Jake sighed. "Sure, Mr. Rotwood."

"Professor Rotwood!"

Jake ignored him and looked at Trixie and Spud. "I'll catch up with you," he said. They nodded and gave him a wave, streaming out of the room with everyone else.

Everyone except, Jake realized, Brad. Why the heck was he hanging around?

Rotwood evidently wondered the same thing, as he said, "Mr. Morton, you do not wish to be late for your next class, do you?"

"Uh, no, Mist—Professor Rotwood, sir," Brad said. Jake figured he was probably hanging around in hopes of getting some more dirt on him to spread around.

Fun.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Brad added.

Rotwood pursed his lips. "Very well. Wait outside. I will speak with you when I am done with Mr. Long." Once Brad was out the door, Rotwood turned on Jake. "I do not like being made a fool, Mr. Long."

Jake crossed his arms. "Could've fooled me."

Rotwood clenched his fists. "I do not have time to deal with your hanky-panky. What have you done with my specimen?"

"Set him free," Jake answered casually. "You know, the usual. I expect he's back in the ghost dimension you pulled him from by now."

Rotwood narrowed his eyes. "Unlikely, Mr. Long. I have studied it far longer than you. The natural openings between their world and ours are not predictable." He straightened up. "I will find the phantom again."

"Or someone to replace him?" Jake could fill in the blanks. "Yo, Rotwood, you know none of the ghost stories you've heard in the past few days are true, right?"

"I shall be the judge of that, Mr. Long," Rotwood said stiffly. "You may go."

It wasn't as bad as Jake thought it would be. That was definitely a plus. Smirking, he left the classroom. His grin fell a bit when he saw Brad go in again, since Jake was pretty sure he knew why and definitely sure he wouldn't like the results, but he couldn't do anything to stop him.

Not without showing Brad that he really was a fire-breathing dragon, anyway, and that definitely wasn't going to happen.

When Jazz felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, she immediately knew who it was. The minute she was able—that is, out of her parents' earshot—she answered it. "Danny?" she asked worriedly. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine, Jazz." The words sounded automatic, perhaps because Danny said them to her so often. "I just wanted to know if you guys have everything under control."

"It's all taken care of, little brother," Jazz assured him. "The Tuck-bot 9000 is our stand-in for Danny Fenton, and Sam convinced Amorpho to come back to Amity Park to pose as Phantom."

"She what? Are you nuts?"

"They'll keep him under control, Danny," Jazz said briskly. "I wouldn't have allowed it otherwise. But people are getting suspicious about Danny Phantom's absence. We had to do something."

"But Amorpho? Jazz, I told you how much damage he can do if he puts his mind to it! Do you know how long it's going to take me to clear that up? Do you know how long it's gonna take me to clear my name again?"

"Would you rather we'd asked Vlad how far he was on his latest cloning project?" Jazz snapped. She instantly regretted it. "Sorry, Danny," she said, her tone much softer. "I haven't been getting much sleep lately. The stress is getting to me." Danny didn't say anything, clearly waiting for her to continue, so she said, "Sam and Tucker have ample supplies of weapons. They picked some more up while helping Mom and Dad pack. Valerie's still on patrol, too. And Amorpho agreed to fight ghosts like you do, just to keep up the pretence, but chances are that fewer will be coming through anyway once they realize you're not here."

"So you're saying they're going to come looking for me now? Way to be the bearer of good news, Jazz. I don't even have a thermos."

"They don't know where you are, Danny." Jazz stopped, then added, "And if worst comes to worst, I'm bringing you another thermos. We'll probably be leaving in an hour, maybe two if we can't get away when we want because Dad's trying to jam some last minute things in and Mom's trying to convince him he can't. But don't worry; I'll make absolutely sure the portal is closed before we go."

"Oh. Right. I thought you'd be in school."

"Not today. Look, Danny, just be careful. Hold on until I get there. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Jazz?"

Jazz noticed the hesitancy in her brother's voice, and she had a fairly good idea of what it meant. "It'll be all right, little brother."

"I'm starting to think it would've been easier just to tell them," Danny said at length. "I mean, I know it's dangerous, but these guys have secrets, too. There's no way they'd tell. I just…. Jazz, I'm pretending to be myself, except I'm still in ghost mode. I mean, I borrowed some normal clothes, but what am I going to do if the people I'm staying with try to drag me to the convention and over to you guys and Mom and Dad see me?"

"Give them the slip," Jazz said. "It's not that hard for you to do, and it'll be a lot more believable in a crowd. Besides, these people think you're a ghost, don't they?" She stopped, the absurdness of the statement finally striking her. After so long in Amity Park, she'd missed it, but Danny wasn't in Amity Park any longer. "Wait a minute. Danny, if these people think you're a ghost, why are they helping you? What aren't you telling me?"

"Uh…."

"Danny," Jazz started, keeping a warning tone in her voice, "I need to know if I'm going to help you."

"They don't all know I'm a ghost," Danny said slowly.

Jazz narrowed her eyes, despite being well aware of the fact that Danny wasn't there to read her facial expression. She was pretty sure it was coming through in her tone. "And the ones who do?"

"It's not really my secret to tell, Jazz."

Jazz pursed her lips. "You know I can keep a secret, Danny, and I wouldn't ask if this wasn't important."

There was a lengthy pause. Then, "You, uh, remember how Dora and Aragon can transform into dragons because of their amulets?" Jazz didn't answer, knowing Danny already knew she did, and Danny eventually continued, "These people don't, er, exactly need any amulets."

Jazz blinked. Surely she hadn't heard that correctly. But then again, ghosts were real. And ghost dragons. Since some ghosts were undeniably formed as an impression of post-human (or post-animal, anyway) consciousness, logic followed that dragons should, technically, exist. Particularly if they could shift into human form as Danny was implying. But still…. "They're dragons?"

"Apparently. The first one I met, Jake Long—he's only a year younger than me. But he's responsible for all magical creatures because he's the American Dragon."

"Danny," Jazz began slowly, "do you—?"

"I know it sounds nuts, Jazz, okay? That's the other part of the reason I didn't tell you before. That and the fact that they really need to keep it a secret, too." There was a pause before Danny said, in a smaller voice than before, "Don't tell Sam and Tucker unless you have to. I mean, I want to tell them, but I can't. Jake's helped me, and I already feel like I'm betraying his trust."

"I won't," Jazz promised. "You know I won't."

What Danny had told her did explain a lot, though. It wasn't that much of a stretch to think that ghosts fell under the category of magical creatures. And if Jake Long, whoever he was, was the American Dragon, whatever that meant, well, perhaps it was his responsibility to look after anyone magical in need of help, including her little brother.

"I'm staying at Jake's house," Danny finally continued. "His dad's an ordinary human, and he doesn't know about, well, anything, so Jake introduced me as Danny Fenton."

"He what?" Sure, Danny had told her he was pretending to be himself, but she hadn't thought that that was what he'd meant.

"I was telling them about Mom and Dad. You know, since they saw the cage—"

"Who're 'they'?"

"Jake's grandpa, to begin with, and then Jake and his two friends, Trixie and Spud, who are kind of like Sam and Tucker in that they know everything but are just normal. And Fu, I guess. He's a, er, talking dog. Magical guardian, Jake said."

Jazz was beginning to wonder why any of this surprised her. "Let me guess," she said, thinking she had a good idea of where Danny was going with this, "you talked about the Fentons, and when Jake had to introduce you as someone other than Danny Phantom, he went with the first thing he could think of: Fenton."

"Sorta. He said he picked it because I was obviously familiar with them and I wouldn't forget it. I mean, he's right. I won't. I just…. His sister, Haley—she's a dragon, too—told me she figures their dad will drag me along to meet the Fentons to make sure I got back to them safe and sound. I told them about the convention and said I just came to town early."

Jazz sighed. How did Danny manage to get into these situations? She had the distinct feeling that suggesting that he just come and stay with them on Thursday night once they got into town wouldn't go over well for some reason or another. Probably, she suspected, because the people who were protecting him just thought he was an ordinary ghost…. "We'll figure this out tomorrow," she decided, "when I can meet you in person. Do you know where you're staying?"

"Uh, I think the address is 182 Shorn Eagle Drive," Danny replied. "I saw it on the flight over."

"That doesn't help me. I don't know where that is. New York's a big city, Danny."

"Yeah. I've noticed that." A pause. "I think it's in Manhattan somewhere, but I still don't really know my way around. Look, Jake's grandpa has an electronics shop in Chinatown that doubles as their magical headquarters or whatever. It's on Canal Street. Phone me when you guys get to wherever you're staying, and try to meet me there. Say you're sight-seeing or something."

Jazz frowned, but she didn't have any better ideas. She'd look it up once they got to the hotel. "All right, Danny. Just be careful, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"I will be." The exasperation in the tone was unmistakable, but Jazz knew Danny had put up with a lot worse from her. "Bye, Jazz."

"Bye, Danny. Be careful." Jazz hung up the phone and sat back down on her bed. She'd thought finding out that ghosts were real was contradictory enough, but now dragons and, given Danny's friend's responsibility, probably any other sort of magical creature she could name? It was a bit much to take in.

"But at least," Jazz said quietly, "I know Danny's in good hands."

Hans Rotwood finished cleaning his monocle when Brad walked into the classroom. Fitting it back in place, he asked, "Yes, Mr. Morton? What did you wish to speak about?"

For the first time since Rotwood had met the child, Brad looked uncomfortable. "You know what you were saying about ghosts, sir?" he asked. "I, well…." He trailed off. "You know that week all us eight-graders had to spend at different camps as counsellors for a bunch of other kids?"

Rotwood raised an eyebrow. "I am aware of that requirement, yes," he said.

"A bunch of us, including Jer—er, Jake Long and his friends, were assigned to Camp Mugwomp."

Ah. He'd heard of that one. He'd even gone to scout it out a few years ago, but alas, the stories of it being haunted had been false. That was, undoubtedly, why Mr. Morton was here, however. He was probably hoping for extra credit. "I have read up on the history of that camp, Mr. Morton. I know the story of Shackles Jack."

Relief, to Rotwood's surprise, flooded Brad's face. "So you know it's true, then?"

Rotwood raised both his eyebrows now. "You…encountered something there, I take it?"

Brad glanced briefly at the classroom door, as if to assure himself that he'd closed it behind him. "Jake and Spud and the kids of Cabin 9 said it was just a practical joke," he confided, "but the Bradster is the king of practical jokes. That was real."

Interesting. Rotwood was well aware that that was true, but he was also fairly certain that young Mr. Morton wouldn't stake his reputation by pulling a joke like this one. "And what, may I ask, was real, Mr. Morton?"

"Shackles Jack," Brad answered. "And Peg Leg Pat, and Solitary Sam, and Chain-Gang Chuck, and—"

"Yes, yes, I know their names," Rotwood interrupted. "What did you see?"

"All of them," Brad said earnestly. "The planets lined up, I guess, just like the story says, and they came and captured me and the rest of Cabin 6. Because we were the best. We won the Mugwomp Cup. They had it with them, and they were doing something to take over our bodies. I thought…. I mean, I thought it was just Jerk Long pulling my leg, you know? Him and Cabin 9, because we'd beat them. But then…then…." Brad trailed off. "It wasn't a joke," he whispered. "They were real. I know they were. Jake said they weren't, that we'd been pranked, but I know pranks, and this wasn't no prank, Mr. Rotwood."

Rotwood didn't bother correcting Brad this time. Now was not the time to try to battle to get his pupils to call him professor, let alone try to correct their atrocious grammar. After all, Brad's story, as it was, had a ring of truth to it. If Jake had encountered Shackles Jack, and if the ghost had endangered humans, even ones Jake detested as much as Mr. Morton, he would have no choice but to act. It was his duty, as it were. But in the interest of keeping his own secret safe, he would have quite happily framed it as nothing more than a practical joke.

"And what happened," Rotwood asked casually, "to the ghosts?"

Brad shifted on his feet. "I, uh, don't know. I was chained up in the cave with the rest of my cabin, and then…." He trailed off. "Then we woke up in the lake, and Jake and Trixie and Spud told us we'd fallen for a huge practical joke of theirs."

If Jake's friends were involved, it only served to confirm Rotwood's suspicion that Jake had had to 'dragon up', as he called it, to deal with a threat. Ghosts, in this case. Jake must have found some way to contain them. For all he knew, they were in the Mugwomp Cup itself. If the ghosts had been attempting a spell to overtake the bodies of innocents, they would need a vessel to contain their souls, their essence, prior to the correct timing of the transfer. If Jake had sealed them in….

"You mentioned the Mugwomp Cup," Rotwood said. "Where is it now?"

Brad shrugged. "I don't know. In the cave still, I guess. It just disappeared."

That settled it, then. The ghosts were in the trophy. Rotwood smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Morton. You've been most helpful."

"Uh, Mr. Rotwood?"

"Professor Rotwood."

"Yeah. Can I, you know, get some extra credit or something for telling you two ghost stories? Seeing as, you know, I need to keep my grades up so I can stay on the football team, and—"

Oh, yes. He'd been expecting that. "I will look into your story," Rotwood said simply, "and will assign you whatever extra credit I feel is your due."

"And you won't tell anyone I said anything, will you?"

Rotwood sniffed. "Of course not." The last thing he needed was for Mr. Long to realize he knew. These ghosts might just be the ones to replace his stolen specimen, if he could locate them. If he was going to search in any caves surrounding Camp Mugwomp, he would need the element of surprise. Jake Long could not find out about his little expedition.

"Mr. Morton," Rotwood added as Brad reached the door, "if you could draw me a rough approximation of your whereabouts once the ghosts took you, it would help me to affirm your story and, perhaps, be a tad more lenient on my next examination."

Brad grinned. "The Bradster's got it covered. I'll drop it off in your office by the end of the day."

Rotwood smiled himself as Brad left. Finally, he would be able to get one up on Mr. Jake Long. With the Mugwomp Cup in hand, he would at long last be able to prove that ghosts existed. He would go out tonight, immediately after school. The minute he got the map. He would go and he would find that trophy and bring it back and have his proof that the magical world existed.

If he had more than one ghost, it would be more difficult for Mr. Long to interfere. This time, he would prevail. And there would be nothing Jake Long could do to spoil things again.

A/N: I'm sure many of you would have liked for Rotwood and Danny to cross paths, but even Danny and Jake can see that that's a disaster waiting to happen and would act accordingly to avoid it. Thanks to everyone who has been taking the time to comment on this story!