A/N: I'm back! I think there is something about this story that I will always like and that I will always return to. It is called "Growing Up" for a reason, and will reflect many of my experiences as a result as the story continues building. People will be as people-ish as I can make them, and triumphs will be real triumphs rather than contrived ones. There is often so much detail in life that is lost in stories, and it is every writers' struggle to convey all the important ones.
That being said, I'm glad to be back, and have been bolstered by all the kind words people have given me in the past. Please review honestly - it is and has always been much appreciated.
.
Story summary thus far:
Danny's family moved to England when he was 11. Surprise, surprise, one day they find a Hogwarts letter waiting for him in the talons of an owl. After some internal debate, Danny ends up meeting Hermione, going to Hogwarts, meeting some shady characters (Quirrell, Snape, Quirrell), getting possessed by a ghost, being unhappy while possessed by a ghost, going to a Quidditch match and mysteriously getting unpossessed by the same said ghost, spending Christmas with the Fentons, having a good talk with Jazz, and finally returning to Hogwarts for the rest of this crazy first year. And that's a recap.
Last updated 12/29/2019
Chapter Thirteen
A New Beginning
There is something about Hogwarts, some intangible quality that evokes a sense of comfort, of wonder. Maybe it is just the magic. Maybe it is just youth playing tricks on an old mind. But even now, when I think back to those days, of Hogwarts' fortress walls, I still feel that lulling sense of comfort, of nostalgic happier days. When everyone was still together.
Listen closely, granddaughter. Terrible things happen, but we can move on from them. We can keep moving forward.
Growing Up
Danny hummed happily as he entered his Transfigurations class. It was a new year, a new beginning, a new… everything. Despite the early morning wake-up, he was feeling rather cheery.
He had ended up arriving earlier than everyone else, other than Professor McGonagall. That was a touch embarrassing, but nothing a strong spirit couldn't handle. Maybe he'd use the time to study.
"Good morning, Professor," he said as he walked to his customary desk.
"Good morning, Mr. Fenton," she replied.
He sat down. Pulled out his Transfigurations book.
And looked back up.
"Er, Professor, is there any reason why you are staring at me?"
Minerva McGonagall blinked, and, eerily enough, looked flustered.
"No, it's nothing, Mr. Fenton. Do go on."
Humanity
Professor Snape eyed him warily in Potions on Friday. Danny frowned back at the Professor. He didn't particularly like Snape. Despite the good new year feelings he had, this strange attention put a real damper on him.
He tried to focus on only the potion they were concocting in class, but Snape's looming was distracting. He couldn't help but nervously fidget every time he felt the man's eyes on him.
"What did you do to him?" Seamus whispered from the next table over, where he was working on a potion with Dean. Danny shrugged wordlessly, not wanting to further the ire of Snape by talking unnecessarily in Potions class.
Hermione seemed oblivious to the special attention. She worked at chopping ingredients and stirring the potion with an almost single-minded dedication, blocking out the world around her, aside from coordinating the potions creation with Danny. When Danny almost slipped up and started stirring one extra time, Hermione only caught his hand with a tsk and continued working.
What was Snape's big deal, anyway? Danny rarely ever got any special attention from the man – usually Harry and Malfoy covered that front. So what was going on today?
Professor McGonagall, too, had acted strangely. And Professor Flitwick had stumbled over his name when he had called roll in the beginning of class. And Professor Sinistra in Astronomy had definitely looked at him funny a higher than average number of times. So far, only Professor Binns hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. Which… made sense, considering he was a ghost and didn't even bother to learn his students' names.
(Maybe he was overanalyzing this? Maybe… this was something that professors did after every winter break, to spook some random first year?)
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long amount of time, Danny and Hermione finished their potion. Professor Snape immediately swooped in to inspect it. He looked down at the silvery concoction imperiously past his long, hooked nose, and nodded curtly. Then his eyes drifted up to meet Danny's. They were like black pits of coal tar.
"Mr. Fenton," he said softly, his voice like dangerous velvet. Danny shrunk, expecting a rebuke. "See me after class."
The professor spun, his black cape swishing behind him. He prowled the remainder of the class, barking comments as he went.
Hermione blinked owlishly at him.
"Why does he want to see you?" she asked.
"I don't know," Danny said, and hunched his shoulders, trying to look smaller. Why did teachers keep wanting to talk to him? He just wanted to be a regular student again.
It's a new year, he told himself firmly. It's going to be a great year. It's going to be a fun, very normal year.
No more ammesia nonsense. No more ghosts. He was determined to enjoy himself, just like any other Hogwarts student, and learn magic.
For the rest of class, as the other students were finishing up their potions (working with Hermione, it was common that they finished earlier), the two of them read through their potions book, learning the justification for the ingredients they had used in their potions today. Hermione had also skipped ahead to see what they would be working on next week, and had already begun the preparatory work they were required to do before next Potions class.
Danny stole a look back behind him, where Neville was working with the Slytherin Theodore Nott. Surprisingly, it seemed that everything was going well. They were still working, but their potion seemed to be releasing the right color fumes, and… was that a smile on Neville's face?
Huh.
Class finally released. Danny stood up, his bags already packed, hesitantly lingering despite how much he wanted to just leave. Hermione lingered with him.
"Mrs. Granger," Snape drawled as he walked up to the two of them, once everyone else had gone, "had I wished to enjoy your simply marvelous company, I would have asked for it."
Hermione squeaked, gave Danny a sympathetic glance, and scurried out the door.
Danny gulped. He was alone in the room now. He glanced up at Snape.
The professor did not look angry, or upset, or even happy. He did not look evil, or vengeful.
He looked… tired.
It was a surprisingly human expression.
"Professor?" Danny asked hesitantly.
This is normal… right?
"How long have you been meeting with Quirrell?" Snape asked quietly.
Shock coursed through Danny.
Neeevermind. Not normal.
"... I don't know what you mean, Professor," he said cautiously. "I see him every time I go to class. But I wouldn't call that 'meeting'."
He clasped his hands behind his back to hide his shaking.
Not normal at all. Seeing Snape's severe expression, his heart sank.
"Do not lie to me."
Snape's voice was harsh, biting, like the crack of a whip. Danny flinched at the tone.
"On the day you returned to Hogwarts, Quirrell made a request to speak to you. You refused."
Danny remembered that. He also remembered that the corridor they had talked in had been very, very empty.
Except…
"The portraits," he whispered in realization.
They were everywhere. The only way to avoid them in Hogwarts was to enter a private room, or stay outside. It was something Danny hardly had given thought to, as most of the paintings were rather unobtrusive. Not all were animated to life, too: many were simply important scenes or portraits without sentience.
"Yes," Snape said. "The portraits."
There was a flatness to his inflection of the word. It made Danny hesitate, think. There was something there, something else about the portraits…
No. Don't think about it.
"Professor," Danny said quietly, gathering himself and meeting Snape's eyes. "I don't understand what this is about. You asked me how long I have been meeting with Professor Quirrell. But you already know that I didn't see him, or... meet with him..."
The professor's eyes bored into his. They were murky pits of tar, never ending blackness. Expanding, growing. Danny felt dizzy.
Flashes of something. He felt light-headed. He gripped the desk behind him, trying to support himself. What was he… Snape. He had to stay upright.
Green. A sudden, stabbing pain in his head. He gasped, and crumpled to the floor. He felt nauseous. The stench of boiling potions became unbearable.
He puked. Once, and then again. And again, until there was nothing left.
He felt like a beaten rag, too weak to stand.
"Drink this."
Snape pushed a flask filled with a dark liquid into his hand, wrapping Danny's numb fingers around it.
"What… did you do?" Danny gasped.
"Drink it. It will help."
Danny lifted the bottle. It was already uncorked. His throat felt burned, like he had drunk acid. He felt horrible. He tipped the flask back, and gulped down its contents. Halfway through, it occurred to him that drinking something from this professor after… whatever that had been was not a smart idea. He let the flask drop, and the remaining potion, into the vomit-covered floor. It shattered.
"Scourgify."
The glass shards and the vomit vanished.
Surprisingly, Danny did feel somewhat better. The weak feeling had disappeared, and the pounding headache had lessened. Was it the potion?
"What did you do to me?" Danny asked again, coming to his feet. He stared fixedly at the stone floor.
"I… I was careless. I did not anticipate that some of your memories would be blocked. I am sorry," he said stiffly.
"My… memories?" Danny's stomach turned as he realized the implications. "You… tried to read my mind?"
"Yes. It is an art called legilimency. It is not magic I practice lightly. It is of paramount importance that you tell no one of this. Do you understand me?"
"Tell… no one…" Danny felt like laughing. Or crying.
Why does this always happen to me?
"Do you understand me?" Snape grabbed his arm and twisted it so that Danny was forced to look at him. When he met Snape's eyes accidentally, there was no strange expansion, no pain, no nausea.
"I… yes. Let go of me." Danny ripped his arm away from Snape's grasp, and quickly scrambled as far away as he could from the man. He stood up. His legs still felt shaky, so he gripped his potions workbench for support.
"I must take you to see Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore?" Danny said incredulously. "No… I… No. No! I'm not going anywhere with you. You just…"
Read my freaking mind without permission.
God, I feel awful.
"Just… leave me alone. Please leave me alone." Danny pressed himself into the table, as far away from Snape as the boundary would allow. Then, eyes momentarily flitting to the door, dashed out. He slammed the door closed behind him, breathing heavily. He glanced side to side frantically. Thankfully, no one else was still in the dungeon to see him like this.
He wanted to collapse, sink down and sleep. Forget all of this. But he couldn't. He had to leave. Keep moving. He needed to take control of the situation. Take control of his life.
Nothing was going to be normal, was it?
He found himself at Professor Quirrell's door. He barged in without knocking.
The professor looked surprised at his entrance, then smiled. The smile quickly disappeared, then, melting into an expression of concern.
"D-Danny? A-are you a-alright?"
"No, I –"
He stopped. "It is of paramount importance that you tell no one of this…"
Fuck. Fucking Snape.
Was Quirrell really any better?
"No," Danny said harshly. "I'm not okay. Why can't I remember anything about November?"
"Th-the ghost –"
"That's not good enough." He remembered Jazz's concerns. "If you knew, why didn't you help me? You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, you're supposed to know how to chase off ghosts!" He was yelling by the last word.
For the longest time, Professor Quirrell did not reply. Danny abruptly felt foolish, as if he had thrown a temper tantrum at nothing, like a little child would.
"I just need to know," Danny said finally, quietly.
This wasn't normal. It wasn't just going to go away. Things just kept happening.
"Are you sure?"
Danny swallowed, meeting the professor's eyes. He hadn't stuttered.
"I…"
"The only way you can recover those memories if the ghost who stole them repossesses you. You know this."
It was what the professor had told him before he had left to see his family.
"I had been working so that you could try to keep your memories and remove the ghost. Danny, it was not easy."
"Why did it take a month?" Danny asked hoarsely.
"It takes more than a month to do that kind of research. Danny, I still did not succeed. The ghost took something from you when it left."
"My memories." He closed his eyes.
"Your memories… and something else, too."
He snapped his eyes open.
"Something else?" Quirrell hadn't mentioned this before.
"Yes. Your…"
The door slammed open.
Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore marched inside, both holding wands at the ready. McGonagall paused in the doorway, analyzing the situation. Her eyes flitted to Quirrell, then landed on Danny. Dumbledore entered behind her.
"Quirinus Quirrell," the headmaster asked gravely, "What is Daniel Fenton doing here?"
Danny's heart sunk. He had the nagging feeling that he was missing something important.
"My what?" he asked Quirrell, desperately. But the man wasn't paying attention to him anymore.
What else had he lost?
"H-H-Headmaster. Mr. F-Fenton was j-just asking about a s-spell we learned in class…"
"Excuse me, Quirinus, but that is not the expression of a student who came here to ask an academic question." Minerva's tone was biting. "Mr. Fenton, are you alright?"
Too much was going on at once.
He opened his mouth to ask Quirrell whatdidIlose?, but stopped at his warning look. Then, Quirrell's expression abruptly changed, his gaze shifting to a foot above Danny's shoulder.
Danny shivered, then froze.
He felt cold.
No.
The world narrowed. He forgot about Quirrell. He forgot about Professor McGonagall. He forgot about Dumbledore, about Snape. About everything that had just happened.
Nonono.
Normalcy was dead.
He needed to leave. Get out of this room.
He turned to the door.
And saw it.
The ghost.
Humanity
It was beautiful. Danny stared at it, transfixed, fascinated. There. He could see it. A piece of him, floating in all of that greendeathterror. A piece of his mind, his memory and emotion, tucked away for safekeeping.
He smiled. So nice of it.
He looked down, at inside himself. There it was. A piece of it, hidden within him. Planted, growing. A seed of ectoplasmic radiance.
He stretched out his hand.
See? I kept it safe for you.
How could I ever have been scared of you?
"Mr. Fenton!"
Growing Up
The voice jerked him from his haze. He looked at the ghost, and felt revulsion.
What did I almost do?
He backed away from the creature, bumping into Professor McGonagall. She wrapped her left arm around his chest, grabbing him as if he would fly off on his own if she didn't ground him.
"Mr. Fenton," she said again. "There's nothing there."
He couldn't tear his eyes away from it.
"No, Minerva," the headmaster said, "there is something very Dark there. Quirinus, what have you done?"
"I-I have o-only t-tried to help the b-boy, Headmaster."
"What is it?" Minerva asked sharply.
"A-a g-ghost."
"A ghost?" she asked incredulously.
"N-not like the ones h-here. M-much more v-violent," Quirrell said. "I b-believe it was attracted to h-him because of ectoplasmic c-contamination."
"Contamination?"
"His p-p-parents are g-ghost hunters."
"Oh no."
The ghost wasn't moving. It was only floating. Danny received… a curious sensation from it.
wHy?
He shivered.
"Quirinus, why did you not tell us about this earlier?" Dumbledore asked grimly.
The professor laughed weakly. "B-because you w-would have s-suspected me, as y-you do now. Not m-many others know about these c-creatures, in any c-case. You c-couldn't have helped."
"You are wrong."
Albus Dumbledore placed himself between Danny and the ghost.
"Begone."
The ghost contorted violently, erratically expanding and contracting. Danny, again, caught a glimmer of himself inside of it.
StOP, it demanded.
"Begone!"
Danny knew that if the ghost left, so would that part of him. He would never regain what he had lost.
"No," he said softly.
Dumbledore raised his wand again. The ghost's tendrils fluctuated again.
pLeASE.
"No!" He leaned forward in McGonagall's vice-like grip, and tugged at Dumbledore's robes. "Please. Stop!"
Dumbledore did not turn to look at him.
"Why? This creature is causing you great harm."
Danny couldn't respond right, couldn't explain.
"The g-ghost p-possessed him for a month, H-headmaster," Quirrell said quietly from behind them. "Y-you can i-imagine the c-consequences."
Albus Dumbledore lowered his wand.
"He was possessed for a month by this ghost," the Headmaster repeated.
"Y-yes."
The Headmaster bowed his head, shoulders slumping as if he had just taken on a heavy weight.
"A month," he whispered, almost inaudibly. Then, louder, "Daniel. How did this happen?"
It took Danny a moment to realize that the Headmaster was asking him a question.
"I – I don't remember."
The ghost… flickered. Danny furrowed his eyebrows, confused.
thANk yOu.
It floated upwards, passing through the office ceiling until it had completely disappeared.
The Headmaster suddenly seemed very, very old and fragile.
"It left," Albus Dumbledore said, staring at the ceiling.
Humanity
"Quirrell is connected to the Dark Lord. I just do not understand how."
"Severus, this involved an ectoplasmic ghost. I doubt even Voldemort could command one. I feel… uncertain whether our suspicions on Quirrell's activities were caused by this or any real connection to Voldemort."
"But he changed, Albus. After Romania, where the Dark Lord had been. It makes too much sense."
"Perhaps we were too hasty. Daniel, at least, suffered from my poor judgements."
"He will suffer more if you start believing Quirrell!"
"I do not believe him, Severus, not that he came into Hogwarts with only good will. There is something Dark that hangs around him. There is no denying that."
"Then what do you propose?"
"I will ask the Ministry to send an expert on these ectoplasmic ghosts. Until then, I will watch over the boy."
"And Quirrell?"
"We will still follow the original plan. We... must be sure."
Danny heard the voices, uncomfortably loud, and had the distinct feeling that he wasn't supposed to be listening. In a room connected to the Headmaster's office, supposedly sound asleep, it was difficult not to. Especially when they were talking about him.
It was gratifying in some way. The Headmaster actually cared about him, enough to bother with all this.
In other ways…
He wished it was all over. He wanted to be normal. He wanted to go back to his classes and talk to Hermione and Neville and all his other friends.
Did they even know what had happened? What would they think when he did not show up to class tomorrow?
Well, today. He supposed it was past midnight already. He couldn't fall asleep.
Maybe they'll think that Snape kidnapped me, he thought wryly. That'd be funny.
Then he remembered that Snape was just outside the door, and had tried to read his mind. The thought suddenly became less funny to him.
He… hadn't realized that magic was capable of something like that. Capable of violating his most essential privacy.
And a teacher had used it on him. Tried to read his mind. Had Snape done that too others too?
"It is not a magic I take lightly…"
He hoped not. He hoped that Snape was better than that.
But Snape was also a bully.
Bullies, Danny knew, would go to any length to prove their superiority. Reading someone's thoughts… that was a powerful tool.
Did Albus Dumbledore know?
Yes, Danny realized. He must know. Otherwise, he would not have come to that office with Professor McGonagall right after I ran from Snape.
He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
It wasn't long after that revelation that he heard a knock on the door. Tap, tap, tap. "May I come in?"
Danny was already sitting upright on the bed, so he had no reason to delay. He sighed and took a calming deep breath, like Jazz had taught him to do whenever he felt nervous. Then he called, "Go ahead."
Light streamed into the room, and with it, Albus Dumbledore's wrinkled face was revealed. He wore a smile along with his dashingly purple-colored, star-populated robes, and entered the room in a fluid motion. His bright blue eyes surveyed the place briefly before resting on Danny.
"Ah, my boy. Would you care for a sherbert lemon?" he asked, as he magicked a rickety wooden chair over next to Danny.
Danny blinked. "Sherbert lemon?"
"A type of muggle candy. I believe in the States you might know them as 'Lemon Drops'." The Headmaster sat down, then proffered his hand, upon which a little plastic tray with many polka dot stickers held a score of some yellow candy.
Danny tentatively grabbed one, and plopped it into his mouth. It did indeed taste very lemony, and sort of popped and fizzled in his mouth. He grabbed another one, and only then did Albus Dumbledore retract his hand and put away the candies into some mysterious pouch in his robe.
"Young Daniel," Dumbledore said and with his half-moon-shaped eyes looked very seriously at Danny. "I have done a disservice to you, and I only hope that I can make it up."
Danny looked to the side. "Is this about Quirrell?"
"Yes," the Headmaster admitted. "About Quirrell, and about my failure to protect you, as my student, from something very Dark. It is the like of what I have not seen for many years… and yet, that is no excuse. The damage has been done, and the blame rests on me." He sighed heavily. "A young child should never have to bear such a heavy burden. Your first year at Hogwarts should be a time for simple joys and jubilance!" For a moment, a flicker of vibrance and light shone in Dumbledore's aged face, before it faded in favor of severity and self-recrimination. "Tell me, Daniel, what do you think I should do?"
Danny startled, staring at the Headmaster with wide eyes, shocked at the request. "What I think you should do?"
"Sometimes the youngest have the clearest sight," Dumbledore said.
Danny looked down, thinking. What did he think Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts should do?
It could be anything, he realized with a jolt. Somehow, he had the feeling, that no matter what he said – as long as it wasn't something completely ridiculous and ludicrous – Dumbledore would listen to it. He could ask him to fire Snape. He could ask him for help in becoming an astronaut. He could tell him about the bullying that the other students had put Hermione through, back in the beginning of the year.
He could tell him about the ghost portal.
Danny shivered, suddenly remembering the flickering, tessellating green light, out on the lawn of Hogwarts. That memory had never been clearer, and suddenly, it burned like ice in his mind.
He thought about his desire to be normal this semester. To just have fun. For things to be easy and carefree.
Talking to the headmaster like this, in the middle of the night, after having seen a ghost that haunted his nightmares again, this wasn't normal, even for Hogwarts.
But, he thought, resolve firming, this is the only way things can become normal again.
He had been battered back and forth so many times by elements beyond his control. Now it was time to fight back.
I need to take control of this situation.
"There are so many things," Danny said finally, deliberately, "that I would want your help with."
Albus Dumbledore said nothing, waiting patiently for him to continue.
"My parents have been trying to hunt ghosts for years. This could be their big break. I… I didn't know how to talk to them about this. I just…" He flung his hands up uselessly. "Anyhow, that's one thing. You could talk to them, I don't know, put your heads together, like scientists." He smiled awkwardly. "Or, you know, like, like wizards."
The Headmaster was nodding, but still didn't speak.
"Then," Danny said. "You could really tell Snape that he's a jerk. He tried to read my mind. That… that can't be right, can it?" He looked beseechingly at the Headmaster, then looked away. "Whatever. I don't know how much you're in on that anyway." Then he heard his own words. "Sorry – I didn't mean –"
"It's all right," the Headmaster said, raising a hand calmingly. "There is still more?" he gently prodded.
"Er, there was… I mean, I saw this ghost portal. That was outside, on Hogwarts grounds, on Halloween. I don't know if you could do anything about it, or why it was there, but if you could make sure that doesn't happen to anybody else… That would be good."
Dumbledore actually smiled. It was a soft, sad smile. "I will do everything in my power to make it so."
"Then also," Danny continued, gaining some strength. "I… I want to see that ghost again. I want my memories back, and whatever other part of me it took. I want to… I want to fight it and win. I want to stop running away." He glanced away, suddenly feeling embarrassed. One hand went to his neck, a nervous gesture. "Can you help me with that?"
He flicked his eyes back to the Headmaster, only to be caught in his stare. Blue eyes locked with blue, as the older man considered the boy before him.
"Yes," Dumbledore said slowly, "I commend your bravery. Many of us learn only too late that we are much better off facing our fears early than to run from them."
Danny didn't feel very brave. He knew how much he had wanted to run from this, from thinking of it, from talking about it, from actually fighting it.
It was only because of Jazz and her words that he was able to step up and face it. And because Danny wanted control of his own life again. He had been dragged to England against his desire, pulled to Hogwarts by virtue of having some mysterious power, possessed by a ghost for a month, forgotten that entire month, and mentally invaded by a professor.
It was enough. He felt resolve strengthen his heart.
"However," Dumbledore said, "You will need protection during this time. You are still a child, and while I will gladly help you face your fears, I will also need to ensure your safety against very Dark, powerful magic. Do you trust me to place you in my care, until we find a more suitable protector against the ectoplasmic ghost?"
"In your care?" Danny looked around, at this room, at the bed, at the little table in the corner. "You mean, stay here?"
Dumbledore nodded. "And stay nearby me. It is the best protection I can offer, though I hope it will not be necessary for long." Suddenly, his face crinkled into a smile. "After all, it would be a shame to miss more than a day of class. I hear that Minerva is a strict Transfigurations professor."
Danny laughed and groaned at the same time. "Yeah, she is." His eyebrows furrowed, then looked about the room one more time. "But yeah, I think I can stay here. It won't be… too long, right?"
The headmaster nodded.
Danny thought that it was nice that he had more space to speak, with this adult who didn't rush around and make all these rapid-fire decisions for him. He considered his next words carefully.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Danny said, looking at Dumbledore earnestly, "for listening."
Growing Up
As it turned out, he ended up missing more than one day of class. The Ministry, apparently, was being obstinate in its refusal to acknowledge the existence of "ectoplasmic ghosts" since "muggles cannot form ghosts", and Dumbledore insisted on keeping a close watch on him when the Ministry would not send an expert to help.
Dumbledore had sent an inquiry to his parents as well, but they had been slow to respond. Both Dumbledore and Danny suspected that it was due to unfamiliarity with owling, and Dumbledore promised to check in on the Fentons personally when he had time.
In the meantime, this meant that Danny got to learn all sorts of interesting things about the Headmaster.
Dumbledore was apparently very active politically. He had a big voice in the Ministry, and was the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, as well as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot (whatever that meant). Not to mention Headmaster of Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Danny had ended up tagging along as Dumbledore presided over a court case in the Wizengamot. It had been… disturbing. And short. Very short.
Then there were the underground anti-Voldemort meetings that Dumbledore held pretty regularly. They mostly extended to only Professor McGonagall, and oddly enough, Snape, as well as a few select other people that Danny did not recognize by voice. In those, they mostly talked about Voldemort, Quirrell, and the Sorcerer's Stone.
Dumbledore also paced a lot, when he thought no one was looking or listening. Danny didn't know how he found the time to do all of this and worry about everything so constantly.
It was… admirable.
About a week after Danny's semi-quarantine (apparently, to not cause panic, everyone believed that he had been stuck sick in the hospital wing with some horrendous, very curable magical disease), someone new arrived.
His name was Remus Lupin.
An apparent expert on possession, and on Dark energies. Dumbledore had told Danny it was rare for people to be able to sense Dark magic, and Remus was one of the few that, like Dumbledore, would be able to detect the ghost in its invisible form.
The man himself, Danny found, was rather likeable. Rugged, with patchwork clothing, but also cheery and genuine.
"Hello, Danny," the man said with a smile, the first time he met him. "How are you doing today?"
"Bored," Danny said honestly. There wasn't much to do aside from studying for classes. Occasionally Professor McGonagall would come by to give an impromptu lesson, so that he wouldn't get too far behind. Danny suspected that she was actually teaching him more material than she usually covered, by the excited look in her eyes and the gathering stack of homework Danny had in the left corner of his room.
"Hmm, let's see if I can't fix that."
Remus drew out a set of cards from his pocket.
"Have you ever played?"
"Is that… Exploding Snap?" The game had spread like wildfire among the Gryffindor commons in only the second week. It was common to see elaborate tournaments set up in the commons with students of all years participating enthusiastically. Danny loved the game.
The man smiled encouragingly.
"Hold on," Danny said, "Why Exploding Snap? Aren't you supposed to be… fixing me or something?"
"Fixing?"
"Yeah. If you're here about the ghost…" Danny trailed off, taking in the man's sincere expression of concern. "Um, isn't there something you could do about that?"
Remus set aside the cards. He looked serious. "Long term possession can't be brushed off in a day. If you want to talk now, we can, but without more information, there won't be much we can do right now."
Danny frowned.
"Then why the game of Exploding Snap?"
The man smiled again.
"I thought it'd be a good chance to get to know you."
Danny looked at his feet, absentmindedly kicking them against the bottom of the bed's frame. He considered it. Exploding Snap would be fun, a return to normalcy. But…
"If it's alright with you, I'd like to talk about the ghost," Danny said quietly, watching the man's expression. He thought about Jazz. She had told him he couldn't hide from this forever. She had been right – it had only gotten worse.
"Very well." The man pocketed the cards in a smooth motion. "Can I ask some questions, then?"
Danny shrugged. Questions were nothing new. Everyone had been asking.
"Let's start with the basics. When did you first see the ghost?"
"Halloween."
"When were you possessed by the ghost?"
Danny frowned. Hadn't he just said…
"H-Halloween."
A pause.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. No. I…" His head started hurting again. He rubbed his temples with his hand. "I don't know."
"I'm sorry," the man said. "It's fine if you can't answer. Do you want to keep going? Don't force yourself."
"Just… ask," Danny said, gritting his teeth against the pain.
"...How are you feeling now?"
"Awful," Danny said. "I have a headache."
"Do you feel like this any time you think about your possession?"
"Only… only when I try to remember."
Remus was quiet for a long moment.
"How long were you possessed by the ghost?"
"A month. Until the Quidditch game." That was easy to answer.
"Do you know why the ghost left?"
"No." Danny hesitated. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry." The man stood up. "I think that is enough questioning for the day."
"What? But… You barely asked me anything." Everybody else had asked much more. Especially about Quirrell. At least Snape had never showed up to question him about anything, not after that first time.
"Danny," the man's voice was patient. "I'm here to help you, not interrogate you."
"Wait. Um, can I ask you something then?" Something had been bothering him.
"Of course." The man sat back down, looking a little sheepish. Danny wondered why.
"Dumbledore said that you could sense… Dark energies, like the ghost."
"Yes."
"Then… 'sensing' doesn't mean that you can actually see it, right?"
"That… seems to be the case, but only when the ghost is deliberately hiding itself."
Danny frowned. "And if Professor McGonagall hadn't seen it at all, it must have been hiding itself, right?"
"From what I understand, that's correct."
"Then… then why could I see it?"
Remus Lupin was silent for a long time.
"I don't know, Danny." He sounded very old, and very tired. Danny seemed to have that effect on people these days. "But… I hope that my fears are wrong."
"Fears?" That didn't sound good.
"Yes. It's possible that…" The man trailed off, and Danny realized that he was looking at him. Evidently, Remus had decided that his investigation was not over for the day after all. "Do you mind if I cast a quick diagnostic spell?"
Danny felt jittery. "Sure. Go ahead. What is it for? What… what are you worried about?"
"It's an ghost-revealing spell. Not useful for most things, since it has a limited area, but it might be useful for this…" Eyebrows furrowed, the man pulled out his wand, set it on the palm of his hand, pointing toward Danny. "Ectonum Revelio."
For a long moment, Remus did not say anything.
"Danny, could you cast a spell for me?"
"S-sure." Danny clumsily pulled out his wand from his pocket. "Which one?"
"A simple lumos would do. Put your all into it."
Danny cleared his throat. "Lumos," he chanted.
His wand flickered to life. The light was strong, brilliant. He smiled. Doing magic still felt good in a way he couldn't describe. Like little prickles of electricity running through his veins.
"Good, good," the man muttered to himself. "You intended to create as bright a light as you could, correct?"
Danny nodded.
"Ectonum Revelio. How does it compare to the other times you have cast this spell?"
"Um." Danny hesitated. "It's the same, I think? I can't really tell. It felt more… prickly though, since I put more energy into it than I usually do."
That caught Remus' attention.
"Prickly?"
"Yeah. Prickly. Magic feels like that, like… like a vibration, or buzz." Danny looked at Remus' face and was confused at the incomprehension he saw there. "You've felt that too… right?"
"I… can't say that I have."
Danny realized that the only person he had ever mentioned this to before was Jazz, who had never cast a spell.
"But there are other magic-sensitive wizards who have. You have always felt this?"
Danny nodded, and Remus smiled, relaxing.
"That's good. That means it's likely unrelated to the possession. It might even help with coping with the aftereffects. Have you ever felt… that 'vibration' when anybody else casts magic?"
"Not really."
Remus nodded to himself, obviously coming to some conclusion. "You can put out the light now."
"Oh!" Danny had forgotten about it. "Nox."
"I'll also check if you can return to your classes. We don't know very much about it, but for some reason, ectoplasm reacts strangely to magic." He scratched his chin, thoughtful. "Your ectoplasmic signature decreased after you cast Lumos. Practicing magic should help with getting rid of any aftereffects of possession."
"My… ectoplasmic signature?"
"... Yes. The ghost must have left some traces of ectoplasm inside of you. We'll have to keep testing you for ectoplasm, to make sure it's disappearing like we'd expect."
Danny remembered seeing the greendeath inside of him.
"Oh," he swallowed.
An ectoplasmic signature. So that's what it is. He tentatively lifted a hand to cover the core of his chest, where he had seen it.
The man clapped his hand on Danny's shoulders, and gave a reassuring smile. "You're doing very well, Danny."
"Really?" Danny hoped that was true. He didn't feel like he was doing very well.
"It looks like everything is going well, right now. I will show you how to deal with the aftereffects of the possession, and if the ghost returns, I should be able to protect you from it."
"What about… my memories?" And the piece of me that the ghost stole.
"I can't confirm this, but we're starting to think that at least part of your memory loss is due to a bad obliviation job. Madam Pomfrey can give you some potions to help with memory recovery."
"Someone obliviated me?" That was… "Who?"
Remus met his eyes steadily.
"Can you make a guess?"
Snape? He was certainly greasy enough for it. But he had rarely seen the man during his possession...
Oh.
"Quirrell," Danny said, almost hesitant to say it.
"He is the main suspect," Remus said neutrally. "But Dumbledore refuses to fire him."
It was surprising to hear this man complain about Dumbledore – most people seemed to revere the man. Still, Danny wasn't sure how he felt about Quirrell. A part of him, despite having heard everything Dumbledore and others were saying about him, felt like the man had just been trying to help him. Another part insisted that the man was vile and deserved punishment.
That second part scared Danny. If he dwelled on it too much, his mind concocted vivid images of terrible things that could serve as "punishment."
He still couldn't remember what the man had actually done. So how could he really blame him for anything?
"Danny? Are you alright?"
Danny shook his head to clear away the thoughts.
"Yes… I think so."
"I'm glad to hear it." There was, again, an honest smile on the man's face. "I need to go now to speak with Dumbledore, but I will come by again later. Hopefully we can get you back with your friends. I know how important that is, at your age."
"I… Thank you."
Humanity
The next day, he was back sitting in a classroom. There had been numerous questions about where he had disappeared to. He awkwardly replied, "I had Ghostitis and the professors didn't want it to spread everywhere so they put me into quarantine." It was close enough to the truth.
It was all a little surreal. Everything, again, was so normal. Everybody was going about their lives, as if nothing had happened. And this time, no one even knew anything had happened.
The only real difference was Remus Lupin. He had appeared in several of Danny's classes, and he had seen him several times in the hallways. Danny had heard several students speculating about this sudden new man's appearance. Theories ranged from Filch's "apprentice" to super-secret Ministry agent.
The second theory seemed rather… self-defeating, considering that if it were true he wouldn't be very secret.
After classes, Danny would usually meet up with Remus, who would tell him about new developments in his research on ectoplasm and check Danny's ecto-levels. All good. No new major developments occurred. The ghost did not reappear, but Remus swore that he occasionally felt a strange, Dark presence flitting around Hogwarts. His parents had finally sent a letter back by owl, saying that they had been in America but were hurrying back as soon as possible for their precious baby son.
Eventually, Danny settled into a routine, and, aside from the daily meetings with Remus and generally trying to avoid Snape as much as possible, was able to forget about the ghost and generally, live rather peacefully. Things became normal.
Danny started feeling optimistic about the semester again. Now, it was really all behind him. Now, he could enjoy his time in Hogwarts, learn magic, and have a good time with his friends.
It would not last.
The facade of normalcy shattered – again – when Hermione pulled him aside and told him about the Sorcerer's Stone.
Humanity
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