"Excited about the game tomorrow, Danny?"

He hummed noncommittally, not looking up at Tucker. "Yes, whoo hoo, sports. I couldn't be more thrilled."

Sam snorted, and the sound of scribbling quills quietened. "Not to speak of the tension. I mean, I get that they're competitive, but the teachers should be above that, at least!"

"I don't mind that McGonagall didn't give us homework." Tucker put down his quill, shifting in his seat. "We're already drowning in all the other stuff."

"But Snape should be stopping his Slytherins from attacking the Gryffindor players, at least!" she snapped back, hands balled into fists. "It's ridiculous! He's ignoring all evidence and witnesses!"

"I know." Danny sighed, putting down his quill to look at the other two. "Whatever caused the rivalry, it runs deep. I might've talked Malfoy into not being as much of a dick, but he's not gonna go against the others. And believe me, they've dug deep to make life hell tomorrow."

"Oh boy." Sam made a face, then twisted in her seat to face him fully. "How bad is it? Do I need to warn the others?"

"I tried to stay away so I'm not sure if I caught everything," Danny confessed. "But I'm pretty sure they made, like, a song? A really insulting one, to throw Ron off of his game."

"Yikes," Tucker said, shaking his head. "I didn't think I would ever say it, but it kind of makes me miss Dash. At least those jocks weren't trying to assassinate each other."

"You don't know that. They might've tried if they stuck multiple hyper-competitive teams in one school."

"They still wouldn't have had magic to accomplish it." Danny leaned on the table in front of him. "Or magical comets that get batted around the field at speeds of 'fuck off'."

She nodded, reluctantly. "Fair enough. I'll tell the team leader, Angela, so she can be prepared. And Hermione, too. She'll know if Ron should be informed or not, since it might make him more nervous."

"Sounds good." He glanced back down at the homework he was working on and grimaced. "So, guys. Who's up for spell practice?"

"I am!" Tucker immediately answered, rolling up his sheet of parchment in one swift movement. "I am so done with all of this homework, forget about the fact that we have to use a quill and ink."

"Hard agree. Stupid teachers and their mandatory parchment-and-ink rules." Sam rolled up her homework as well, stuffing it into her bag. "What did you have in mind, Danny?"

"The Impediment Jinx? We've been doing it with the DA and I could use some work with it." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's one of the few spells we've worked on that I couldn't somehow replicate with my powers, so I really want to nail it."

"Makes sense." Tucker put his homework as well, the room shifting around them as Danny prepared it for spell casting. "Have you had much trouble with slipping ecto-energy into your magic? We can't really keep an eye on that while we're working with your Slytherin buddies."

"It's been alright." Danny slid his wand out of his pocket, rolling the piece of wood around in his hand. "I gotta focus on it a lot, so I mess up my spells more. But I can't risk anyone seeing it, y'know?"

"We get it, dude." Tucker rolled his shoulders and was rewarded with a series of loud cricks as his spine realigned. He positioned himself in front of the padded floor, bracing himself. "Alright, gimme your best shot."

Danny nodded, swinging his wand around to point straight at Tucker. "Impedimenta!"

The light that emerged was, perhaps, more green than the turquoise it should've been, but it wasn't overly noticeable. Tucker stumbled when it hit him, and was unable to catch himself due to the immobilization the spell caused. Instead he tipped backwards, landing softly on the pillows behind him.

"Looks pretty good to me," Sam commented with a shrug. "A little green, but it's not very obvious if you're not looking for it."

"Yeah, I agree with Sam." Tucker wriggled his fingers to confirm he had full movement back, then pushed himself out of the cushion. "It worked, the light wasn't very obvious, and the blow back isn't abnormal for this jinx either. I think you're in the clear, man."

He huffed out a relieved sigh. "Well, that's something at least. I'd like to train with it a little more though, if you guys don't mind? We can take turns so you can practice too?"

"Sounds good to me." Sam dug her own wand out of her pocket, the black wood shiny and well-maintained. "I'm not exactly jumping to get back into the corridors."

"At least your common room isn't in the frigging dungeons." Danny shivered demonstratively. "I might have ice powers, but come on! It's so cold in this dang castle that people are wearing their gloves inside. How is that not a problem worth fixing? Or looking into, at least?"

"Wizarding World has weird priorities," Tucker agreed with a nod, pulling out his own wand. "But hey, what're we gonna do about it?"

"Absolutely nothing," Sam grumbled with a frown on her face. "Not any time soon, at least. We can't risk drawing attention to the Ghost Zone. The Wizarding World would go nuts if they found out about that."

"Which is also why I'm not gonna get involved at all." Danny rolled his shoulders, moving closer to a pile of cushions. "That's just asking to get caught."

"We're not good at blending in anyway," Tucker pointed out, taking aim at Danny. "With the whole DA thing more people are crossing to talk to other houses, but Hermione told them to be wary so now we're basically the only ones doing it anyway."

Danny opened his mouth to reply, but Tucker called "Impedimenta!" and he immobilized. When, moments later, he could move again he shot the other a glare.

"As I was about to say, yeah, you're right. But things are getting better, slowly but surely. And we're only a couple months into the year yet, still plenty of time for people to change."

"And even if it doesn't get much better while we're here, we might've made the first move towards better things." Sam turned to aim at Tucker. "Even if things don't change immediately, maybe eventually it'll be better."

"That's such a long time off though," Danny groaned, watching as Tucker was immobilized again, this time not being knocked over. "Ugh, it doesn't even really matter. Why are we worrying about this when there are threats like Voldemort out there?"

"Because Dumbledore won't let you help with that?" Tucker straightened his beret. "And also the magical hat said it was a good idea for the houses to unite, and apparently we're following the advice of talking headgear nowadays."

Danny snorted despite himself. "Yeah, I guess we are. But only because it's obviously giving good advice; united you're stronger than separated."

"Preaching to the choir, buddy." Sam patted him on the shoulder, then glanced at her watch. "Unfortunately it's getting late, and I'm pretty sure that Quidditch game is early in the morning tomorrow, so. If we want to watch we'll have to get up early."

"Aren't the seats for that separated by houses anyway?" Tucker joined them in a closer group, stuffing his wand back into his pocket. "We can dress neutrally all we want, but if we can't sit together I'm not all that interested in seeing Gryffindor and Slytherin engage in an actual fistfight when things don't turn out right."

"Pretty sure it's impossible for things to turn out right with those two teams on the field," Sam pointed out. "And I'm fairly certain that the seating is, like most things, out of habit instead of rule. It's a sport, so people want to sit with the people who want the same ones to win, so usually they end up grouped by house."

"Well, that's something at least." Tucker visibly stifled a yawn. "Whatever, we'll figure it out tomorrow. See you guys at breakfast?"

Danny nodded, opened the door of the Room of Requirement. "Yeah. I think I might sit with you, if you're okay with that? Not too interested in dealing with the whole table jeering at Gryffindor."

"Same, actually," Sam cut in before Tucker could answer. "Gryffindor will probably be the same, or they'll be too occupied pretending not to hear."

Tucker shrugged. "Sure, why not? Most Ravenclaws are pretty alright with you two, and if not, they're not fighty enough to protest."

"Sweet."

Danny plopped himself down on a bench next to Sam and Tucker. "Do you think all games are this loud, or is that just that damn rivalry again?"

"Sources say that it's just Slytherin fucking with Gryffindor, and Gryffindor trying to drown it out." Tucker straightened his beret, tactically swapped for a black one. "Sources being my fellow Ravenclaws."

Sam sighed, shaking her head at the stands filled with Slytherins. "I warned the team captain, but there's nothing she could do except warn the rest of the team. Apparently there are no rules against, well, this."

"Sucks for Ron." Danny glanced around warily, but no one seemed to protest against his presence. Maybe the fact that he didn't have one of those anti-Ron buttons helped. "Sidney would have a heart attack if he knew about the state of bullying in this school."

"Hmm." Tucker nodded, then frowned at the field. "Looks like the Slytherins are coming out. Look at that, all on the same brooms as well. Someone must've bought their way onto the team."

"Pretty sure it was Draco," Danny said. "His dad is super rich, and he's got all the right people bribed, I think. But allegedly he's pretty good as a Seeker anyway."

"Oh, look, there come the Gryffindors as well." Just as she said it, noise around the stadium increased. Cheers and whistles, almost loud enough to block the singing from the Slytherins. "Not as brick wall-y as the Slytherins, but I'm not sure if that matters much."

"I guess we'll find out." The captains stepped closer, apparently under orders of the referee. They shook hands, briefly, before the ref blew her whistle.

Then the balls went up, and so did the fourteen players. Both goalkeepers, Ron and an older Slytherin called Bletchley, whose name Danny only knew thanks to Draco, shot off towards the raised rings on either end of the field. Harry and Draco split from the group to start looping around the field.

Danny, admittedly, didn't know much about Quidditch, but his attempt to guide Draco to better waters by keeping him company had taught him some, at least. He knew those two were Seekers, tasked with finding the Golden Snitch; a small golden ball with wings, which would instantly end the game if caught.

A speaker crackled to life, the enthusiastic voice of the announcer loud. "And it's Johnson – Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me-"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall yelled, and Danny watched as Sam elbowed a snickering Tucker.

"What?" the boy in question protested, holding up his hands before she elbowed him again. "You didn't think that that was funny?"

"No," she hissed, barely audible over the resumed commentary from Jordan. "He's putting her on the spot just because he has an eye on her!"

"Alright alright, jeez. No need to hit me for it."

"Crowd's loud, isn't it?" Danny said, interrupting the fight before it could truly pick up. A few of the Ravenclaws around them quirked intrigued eyebrows at him, but didn't comment. Apparently it was unusual behavior for a Slytherin to break up a fight, especially one between a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw. "With all the singing and booing and stuff. I feel like the sports games back home weren't this loud."

"Smooth, Danny," Sam commented, rolling her eyes but with a faint and indulgent smile on her face. "But no, not that it's entirely surprising. There are more people here, I think, and the houses are extra competitive. Back home barely anyone cared whether our school won or lost, but here they feel like there are real stakes."

Before they could get too far into this new discussion, however, the commentator pointed out the singing happening on the stands. "-And the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?"

"Oh no," Danny whispered, hands on his face. "Here it fucking comes."

Jordan paused to listen, and so the song rose loud and clear from the Slytherin section of the stands. All green and silver, and incredibly loud, they bellowed,

"Weasley cannot save a thing,
he cannot block a single ring,
that's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our king.

"Weasley was born in a bin
he always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our king."

The commentator resumed his speech, seemingly louder than before. But it wasn't enough to drown out the words of the song, and neither would it stop Ron from remembering them. "-and Alicia passes back to Angelina! Come on now, Angelina – looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! She shoots, she – aaaah."

Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, had caught the ball. It was passed off to another Slytherin player, who now sped off with it towards the Gryffindor side of the field. In response, the Slytherin's song grew louder and louder.

He knew there was nothing that he could do, but Danny deeply wished that there had been something. He really couldn't afford the risk of more wizards finding out about regular ghosts; he would've loved to set Sidney free on this school. Get him working on anti-bullying rules, at least. This was just… obscene. Absolutely ridiculous.

A scream of delight sounded from the Slytherins, and Danny peeked back at the field. The main ball, the Quaffle, was falling to the ground behind the Gryffindor rings. A point had been scored, more than likely.

"Slytherin score!" Jordan's voice confirmed, the crowd cheering and booing. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin. Bad luck, Ron."

And thus the volume of the Slytherins picked up even further, the same two verses repeated over and over. Jordan tried valiantly to be heard over their singing, but it was so deafeningly loud that Jordan's voice was barely audible even to Danny's sensitive ears.

As the game continued, it was unfortunately more of the same. Loud screaming and yelling and booing accompanied every single one of the four goals Slytherin scored. The singing remained loud, only drowned out by the roar of a lion when Gryffindor finally scored.

Danny's eye caught on Harry, who suddenly dove. Draco was right on his tail, the green and silver blurring into Harry's red and gold as they raced around the field. Feet from the ground, both boys reached for an almost-invisible blur of gold. Danny nudged Sam on his right, and her eye caught on the same blur of colors.

Then Harry pulled his broom upwards, one hand curled closed and raised. The fluttering wings of the Snitch were barely visible from where Danny was sitting – he doubted that anyone else could see it.

"He has it," he said quietly, for Sam and Tucker's benefit. Loud approving screams sounded from the Gryffindor stands.

Then suddenly Harry flew forwards off of his broom. He was only five or six feet above the ground, but he landed flat on his back and appeared winded.

Danny frowned at Crabbe, who had swatted the Bludger at Harry. He would have to remember that, make sure the guy got punished. He could've seriously hurt Harry, and for no reason; he had shot the Bludger after Harry had already caught the Snitch. It was pure spite.

The Gryffindor team leader landed, pulling Harry to his feet. The referee shot towards Crabbe, and Danny was glad to see that at least this was apparently a punishable offense.

As both teams started landing, one by one, Danny couldn't help but notice that Draco was keeping away from both teams. As was Ron, who had landed close to the goal posts, but he didn't seem interested in joining the other teams. Draco, however, was watching. Watching, and staying away.

Had he really taken Danny's advice to not get involved with the jeering?

As the Gryffindor's seemed to congratulate each other, hugging and shaking hands, one of the Slytherin players made his way closer. Danny couldn't hear what he was saying over the noise of the crowd, but he could guess based on Harry's expression.

The team captain jumped forward, dragging one of the twins away when they started shooting the Slytherin foul looks. Harry lunged for the other twin as the guy kept talking, though the point was lost on Danny.

One moment Harry was restraining one twin, the other held back by a pack of the Gryffindor girls. Then the next Harry had released his target, both of them sprinting towards the taunting Slytherin.

As the boy's fist drove into the stomach of his taunter, the crowd started bellowing louder. Screaming and yelling and the referee's whistle caused an enormous ruckus, but it didn't stop Harry or the twin. Not until he was blown back by a spell, and even then it didn't keep him down for long as he leapt back to his feet.

With a sinking stomach, Danny watched the Slytherin whimper on the floor, Crabbe cackling not far behind him. The twin that Harry had restrained had a swollen lip, while the other was still pinned down by three of his teammates. Both of the attackers were panting, turned on their heels, and promptly marched back to the castle.

"What'd you think are the chances that their punishment will be light?" Sam asked, not expecting an answer. "Because I'm pretty sure Umbridge is jumping in excitement already."

"Oh, jesus." Tucker groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, probably. I bet she would be thrilled to kick them off the team permanently."

"Surely not?" one of the Ravenclaws around them asked, leaning forward as she gave up on the act that she hadn't been listening along. "Usually they would just get detention for such a thing. No lasting damage, after all, nothing that a quick trip to the Hospital Wing won't fix."

"Except that Umbridge really really hates Harry," Danny explained, twisting in his seat to talk more easily. "And even if she doesn't have the power to do it just yet, I'm sure she'll find a way."

"But that would be ridiculous!" the girl protested, staring at him wide-eyed. "Not even Professor Snape would do such a thing, and everyone knows that he's as Slytherin as they get, with that whole anti-Gryffindor thing."

Sam huffed loudly, and Danny heartily agreed. "I can assure you that that won't stop her. Just you watch. And she'll kick both twins off too, for good measure. She already wanted to stop the team from reforming in the first place, and this was just the thing she needed to stamp them down."

"Get fucked, Gryffindor," Danny said, low and hopelessly, "As my fellow Slytherins would love to say."

Draco watched the small group of Slytherins with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He'd done as Danny had asked, hadn't participated in any of the jeering. And he'd… felt better, actually. Not very great – they had lost – but… not as bad as usual, at least. Danny had been right. They might've lost, but acknowledging the skill of their opponents made it easier.

But the rest had acted as usual, and… and it felt wrong, now. The jeering, the insults, and, Merlin, Crabbe launching that Bludger at Harry after the game was over already. Somewhere he wished that there was something he could do, but…

He wasn't a Gryffindor. He couldn't – wouldn't – stand up for such things. It would be reckless, and stupid, and wouldn't achieve anything.

So why did he feel so bad about it?

The clearing of a throat snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked around, trying to pinpoint the source. Dimly, he noticed the other Slytherins looking as well, before he realized that…

Draco looked up, and indeed, that seemed to have been the source. A ghost, one he hadn't seen before, hovering over the group with narrowed eyes and a dark expression.

He might not have seen this ghost before, but, honestly, the rumors had done a pretty good job describing him. The clothing was distinct and stood out among the other ghosts. Draco didn't even know what this ghost was wearing, how to describe it, but he didn't have to.

"Phantom," he said. And immediately the others caught on too, their eyes moving up.

The ghost inclined his head in greeting, but didn't look over to him. He seemed focused on the other Slytherins instead.

"Gentlemen," he spoke, and his voice was… odd. It echoed strangely, and he certainly sounded young. Not very intimidating, if Draco had to be honest. "I was hoping to speak to you guys."

"Why?" Goyle seemed genuinely confused. "What've we done to attract your attention, huh?"

Phantom rolled his eyes, a sentiment Draco felt very strongly as well. "Are you boys familiar with my stance on bullying?"

"You… don't approve of Peeves' bullying?" Crabbe tried, hesitantly. "So? We're not ghosts, are we? What does it matter to you?"

"I don't approve of any bullying," the ghost bit back, and Draco could've sworn killing-curse green sparked around his fists and in his eyes. "Poltergeists, regular ghosts, and yes, also humans. That includes you bunch."

The group burst into laughter. Everyone, except Draco. He, instead, watched the ghost. He'd heard the stories, after Phantom had first reprimanded Peeves. He'd warned that he didn't want to see any bullying, or else.

"You're a pitiful bunch anyway," the ghost said suddenly, voice low. "Can't even win on your own power, huh? You have such low opinions of yourself that you need to bring down the Gryffindors, lest they beat you? How does that loss feel now, hm? They are trash and terrible and yet they beat you, didn't they?"

Draco stiffened minutely. It sounded like… it was exactly like what Danny had told him, what had convinced him, except meaner. More Slytherin, incredibly. Phantom was trying to convince Draco's housemates the same way Danny had convinced him.

"Hey!" Goyle balled his fists, brandishing them like he was planning to punch the ghost. "What's that supposed to mean, huh? You saying we can't beat Gryffindor, huh?"

The ghost snorted dismissively. "I don't have to say anything. You've proven it already yourselves. Why else would you go to such ends to weaken them? Even if you had won, it would've been a shallow victory." He narrowed his eyes, looking down upon them – and not just literally. "But I suppose it would've been the only way you could've won, hm?"

"What else should we have done, then, smartass?" Theodore Nott snapped back, looking rather aggravated as well. "Let Gryffindor get away with such a pathetic team? Congratulate them on being so sad that they had to bring in Weasley?"

"Well, you could've played fair, for starters." Phantom gestured at Crabbe, a knowing glint in his eyes. "What was the point in batting a Bludger at Potter after the game was over, except to show that you refuse to acknowledge his skill? The only thing you accomplished with that was undermining your own Seeker. After all, Potter might be bad, but he beat your Seeker, so he must've been better in at least some way."

The ghost turned slightly, his attention finally turning to Draco. "Speaking of your Seeker, however… He was a good example of what you could have done. He was polite, willing to acknowledge the skill and abilities of your opponents. Or at least he didn't attempt to drag them down, and thus didn't diminish his own team along the way."

Draco puffed out his chest a little as the attention turned to him. He hadn't wanted it, but he was a Malfoy. He wasn't going to back down for such a little thing.

"Yeah? And what did that accomplish, then?" Goyle grunted at Phantom.

"He made his own team look better." Phantom turned his attention back to the rag-tag group of Slytherins. "If you had all acted like him, you might've won against the full force and skill of the Gryffindor team. It would've been impossible to deny your own skill, had you beaten them like that. But instead you resorted to cheating and manipulating-"

"That's what we're known for, idiot," Nott bit back, interrupted the ghost.

A transparent silver hand waved through Nott's face, and he stumbled back and away from the unwelcome sensation.

"As I was saying," Phantom continued, like nothing had happened. "You cheated and manipulated, and now everyone's glad you lost. After all, you wouldn't even play them fairly. Even if you had won, who could've said you really are better than Gryffindor? There would've been no proof, since you hadn't really won."

"So what? We're supposed to just play against them, and let them be foul towards us?" Crabbe shook his head dismissively. "Gryffindor and Slytherin don't get along. We would just turn ourselves into bloody targets."

"Except that that's not all true, is it?" Draco said, softly. He hadn't meant for anyone to overhear him, but Phantom glanced over at him, a knowing look in his eyes.

The ghost hummed. "But that's not all true, is it? I can think of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin right this moment who get along just fine."

"Those transfers don't count." Nott huffed. "I room with Fenton, and let me tell you, he's a strange one. Hardly a Slytherin, him."

"Either way," Phantom said, eyes narrowing at Nott, "you're looking at this the wrong way. Currently, the house of Slytherin is hated, yes? Now imagine if you behaved yourself, yet Gryffindor continued to act as they do. Suddenly people will start to see you as the victims, while Gryffindor are the perpetrators – the villains – and punished for it."

A few glances went around as the others seemed to consider it.

"Plus, consider this." Phantom leaned back a little, looking far more casual now. Like the heat had been taken off, like he'd already won the discussion. "How much has this way of functioning really done for you, hm? How many times have you won in the end? Was it really worth all the hatred you've put up with along the way?"

Silence fell, briefly, before the ghost broke it again.

"And how many contacts of value do you think you've lost out on, just because other houses don't approve of Slytherins?" Phantom's mouth twisted into a smirk. "How many Purebloods worth knowing are in other houses? How many avoid you just because you insist on cheating in a sports game? How badly are you mangling your own future just because you don't think you can win on your own devices?"

This was… an interesting tack for Phantom to take. And, after brief consideration, Draco had to admit that it was a good one. Slytherin might be known for their pureness of blood, but they weren't the only house with valuable connections.

The ghost grinned knowingly. "That's what I thought. And even if all of this didn't leave an impression, how about this."

He leaned down, and Draco was sure green sparked in Phantom's eyes this time. "I scared off Peeves. Imagine what I could do to you."

And before anyone could speak back, the ghost faded from visibility.

Well, Merlin be damned. Phantom sure knew how to leave an impression. Draco would have to thank Danny later, for saving him from this embarrassment as well.

He really had been right about this whole… being nice thing.

The DA met one last time before the winter holidays, and Danny, Sam, and Tucker made it there at the same time as most of their fellow students. The room filled up quick, everyone chattering about the upcoming break.

"OK!" Harry called them all to order, and the room quietened immediately. "I thought this evening we should just go over the things we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before the holidays and there's no point starting anything new right before a three-week break-"

"We're not doing anything new?" Zacharias Smith asked in a disgruntled whisper, just loud enough to be heard throughout the entire room. "If I'd known that, I wouldn't have come."

"We're all really sorry Harry didn't tell you, then," Fred answered loudly, before anyone else could say anything. Several people snickered, and Zacharias promptly shut his mouth.

"-we can practice in pairs," Harry finished from before he was interrupted. "We'll start with the Impediment Jinx, for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again."

As everyone divided obediently, Danny sought out Anthony again. He was glad he'd practiced with Sam and Tucker earlier, because his spells went off without a hitch, the discoloration barely noticeable even to his own eyes.

Afterwards they moved on to Stunning, with cushions laid out over the whole floor. This, too, went well.

Harry called them to a halt at the end of the hour, beaming. "You're getting really good," he said, pride in his voice. "When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff, maybe even Patronuses."

The room murmured in excitement, and Danny grinned at Sam and Tucker. Now this was what they signed up for; big magic spells that were too advanced to learn on their own. And maybe it wasn't exactly like they had planned but hey, when did things in their life ever go as planned?

Admittedly the last bit of this chapter is kinda... bleh, but I wanted to make the timeline for Weirdward at least a little clear, since this chapter covered a decent chunk of the school year. Plus, gotta emphasize that Danny is doing alright at school, y'know.
And look at that, Danny is pulling out the big guns to redeem his house! It's really one of those scenes that makes me wonder why on Earth I hadn't thought to include it in the original draft. Madness.

Next week, chapter 17: Holly Jolly Occlumency