Harry had been immensely proud of everyone involved with the D.A. last year, but that feeling was nothing compared to what he felt watching Danny during their weekly sessions on Saturdays. He never imagined that Danny's ghost powers would be so developed, or that they would have lent such a hand in his ability to learn spells. Dumbledore had made it sound like the most Danny could learn was a few simple spells from first year level, yet in under a month, he had completely mastered Disarming, Stunning, the Impediment Curse, Alohomora, the Reductor Curse, and Relashio. The only thing that seemed off was that no matter what spell Danny used, it was always a swirl of green and yellow, and that was probably because he was half-ghost, not a wizard. Learning the spells seemed to affect his natural powers as well; his energy blasts could now be modified to resemble different curses and jinxes. He'd been showing Harry a lot of his powers and teaching him about them; Harry couldn't do them, but they were interesting and made them even during their practices. The two were near evenly matched; Danny won about as many times as Harry did. It was obvious that being half-ghost, half-muggle prevented Danny from certain spells; he was having trouble with Summoning and Levitation, and when they tried the Patronus charm, the best he could get was a feeble wisp of green smoke. But it was astounding how much he'd managed. Danny was thoroughly enjoying the lessons, and practised on his own whenever he could. For the first time, he was feeling like he had complete, one hundred percent control over his powers.

Sam had never seen Danny this happy, and was spending just as much time watching him as she was reading. She and Hermione had begun looking up new spells, jinxes, and hexes for him to practice with Harry, some of which Harry seemed just as eager to learn. At the same time, she was helping Hermione with S.P.E.W. and learning about magic just for the heck of it. Hermione was only too happy to help; in fact, the only thing they ever disagreed on was the issue of Danny, Sam and Tucker's roaming the school during the day. Even with the Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map, Hermione thought it best if they didn't wander around during the day. Sam, though more cautious than Danny or Tucker, thought she was overreacting.

"It's just that it's so crowded during the day," Hermione had said, "Someone could feel you under the Cloak if you run into them, and if you bump into something or someone you could drop the map..."

"What do you think Danny's ghost-powers are for?" Sam countered.

"But he's known as a Hogwarts ghost, he won't he under the Cloak, and it'll look suspicious if he stays floating right in the same spot holding onto you. Why don't you just go out at night? Only Filch and the teachers will be around, they can't see you, and Danny won't get in trouble..." Sam refused to back down, as did Hermione.

Ron and Tucker had finally stopped arguing over whose music was better, both of them growing bored with the subject and Tucker having given up on ever getting his music to play in the school. He'd gone out onto the grounds in the Cloak and tried his CD player by Hagrid's, but that didn't work either. The only progress was that there was now an annoying static sound. Instead, Ron had been teaching him more and more about Quidditch, putting games on the wizard's wireless and telling him about famous players. He had admitted, with some reluctance, that Hermione was close to the famous Bulgarian Seeker Victor Krum. They'd also spent a lot of time watching Harry and Danny, and now argued over which of the two was superior.

Harry was surprised to find himself making as much headway in his classes as Danny was with their lessons. McGonagall was giving them no let-up on homework, but with his schedule so much more open, Harry found himself able to study and get it done faster, and was relying less and less on Hermione for help with almost every subject; and with the exception of History of Magic, Ron was the same. Charms was going well; Flitwick wasn't being easy, but they'd had nothing incredibly difficult bordering on impossible. Now that everyone had been able to ride the unicorns, Hagrid was having the class teach them to do practical things; help lost people, carry things, and the like. They'd been given a fair bit of homework on the magical properties of unicorns, but it wasn't too hard and actually very interesting.

"You're starting to sound like Hermione or Sam," Ron had told him, but he too was enjoying the assignment.

They'd been given little to no homework in Defence Against the Dark Arts, as Lupin continued their work with the Blade Charm. He was constantly stressing on good form and footwork, particularly with La Verdadera Destreza. For once, Hermione seemed to be going with the class instead of being ahead of the class. She was a bit upset that she couldn't get a better handle on it, but Harry and Ron couldn't help but feel a bit amused. They knew Hermione wasn't all books and could be very active, but following the patterns of La Verdadera Destreza and regularly practising the other types of footwork seemed a bit harder for her than she expected. Lupin had also started them on bladework. Harry wondered how they were going to practice bladework without hurting each other; maybe there was a spell to dull the blade? It turned out that there was a variation of the Shielding Charm that placed a protective invisible armour on your body that prevented injury from a magical sword. Everyone was eager to get started on this. Like the footwork, it came very naturally to Harry. Ron was doing well with sabre, but his épée was a bit off. Almost everyone was having trouble getting La Verdadera Destreza down right, but it wasn't for lack of trying, and aside from Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins, the entire sixth year class was thoroughly enjoying Lupin's lessons.

Now that the Ministry didn't seem to be tearing open every letter coming in and out of Hogwarts, members of the Order were writing more often, though they still kept any descriptions on what they were doing vague. Tonks was writing to Hermione and Ginny a lot, and Moody had sent Harry a few letters. Fred and George were always sending along jokes and trick cards. And they were sending along mail that was for other people too.

"A letter from my parents?" Danny asked when they showed him, "How'd it get here?"

"Dumbledore arranged it," Hermione said, "Anything sent to the Weasley School of Education goes to the headquarters of the Order, who send it along to here," Danny saw Harry's eyes gleaming at the return address.

"Any reason you're so excited my parents live at Number 5, Privet Drive?" Danny asked. Harry didn't answer. Shrugging, Danny opened the letter.

----

Vernon Dursley was sitting down in his chair, the television on and his mind relaxed. Dudley was off at school, and the boy was at this lot's place until the summer. It was especially good to be rid of him this year, as he and his wife Pentunia had been forced to allow him all the things they were normally adamant he mustn't use all summer. Now, however, everything was perfectly normal and in order, his mind perfectly relaxed. Mrs. Dursley, however, was not so calm. Her beady eyes were narrowed into slits, watching the moving van from behind the blinds. Someone was finally buying Number 5, Privet Drive, and there was always the chance of new neighbours ending up being...like the boy. Their van was certainly unusual; militaristic in design with glowing green parts.

"Vernon, come look!" she whispered. The neighbours were coming out. The girl looked normal enough, but her father was a giant of a man in an orange and black jump suit; his wife had similar clothes, turquoise and black, with a hood and goggles. Rather than use boxes like a normal family, all their things were kept in silver containers with green designs, just like their car.

"Careful with those!" the man shouted. Mr. Dursley scowled.

"Yanks," he hissed, "Taking over the planet, they are."

"And those clothes!" Mrs. Dursley scoffed, "No decency!" the man and his wife were now looking around the neighbourhood.

"Not a bad spot," the man said, "Though I wish we could've found a place more likely to have some ghosts!" Mr. and Mrs. Dursley pulled back from the window, their eyes wide with horror. They'd never asked Harry anything about his school, but with all the other nonsense that went on there, surely there had to be something dealing with ghosts. What if this had to do with – his lot?

"Jack," they vaguely heard the man's wife say, "Before we start on that I think we should get to know the neighbours. We're living here until Danny gets back from school."

"True. HOWDY, NEIGHBOURS!" Jack screamed at the top of his lungs, sending Mr. and Mrs. Dursley retreating further away from the window, "ANYONE STILL AT HOME? NOT AT WORK? Ah well, that's a chore for another day –"

"Jack, we are doing this properly," a minute later, the doorbell to Number 4 rang throughout the house. Having no choice, Mr. Dursley took in a deep breath and opened the door, his wife peering out from behind him.

"Howdy, neighbour!" Jack shouted. Mr. Dursley mumbled something like "Good morning," under his breath before speaking fully.

"I am Vernon Dursley," he said with the air of a man trying to warn a possible enemy who he was messing with, "and this is my wife, Petunia," he motioned to Mrs. Dursley, still behind him.

"Glad t' know you," Jack grabbed Mr. Dursley's hand, shaking it furiously, "I'm Jack Fenton, Ghost Hunter Extraordinare! My wife, Maddie," he motioned to her, and she gave a little wave, "and this," he stepped aside; the girl had been hiding behind him, holding her hand in her head in shame, "is my daughter Jasmine."

"Call me Jazz," she muttered. Jack went on.

"We'll only be here for a year while my son Danny and his friends try out a new school, but in the meantime, I can probably find some ghosts in this country!"

"Yes. These ghosts," Mr. Dursley tried not to sound too angry, "You don't hunt anything else, do you – wizards, perhaps?" Jack just stared at him for a moment, then broke out into hysterical laughter. He fell on the ground and rolled around on their front lawn and it was a good few minutes before he finally started to relax himself.

"Wizards!" he wiped a tear from his eye, "Ghost can be explained with science! But wizards – " he started laughing again, and Jazz put her other hand up to her head, now covering her face completely. Though a bit more relaxed now, the Dursleys were far from satisfied; neighbours like this – it was almost as bad as having the boy back at home –

"Hey," Jack's tone suddenly turned serious, "Hey! Careful with that!" the movers had just picked up a container that was completely covered in yellow caution tape, and they seemed to be having some trouble with it.

"Careful, I said! If you drop that thing..." the weight was too much; they dropped it. Red laser fire went everywhere. One beam came within less than an inch of burning of Mr. Dursley's moustache; another flew threw the window and blew up a bedroom in the Dursley's home.

"My little Diddykins's room!" Mrs. Dursley shrieked, running up the stairs as fast as she could. Mr. Dursley just stared out in shock, blowing on his moustache in case anything had caught fire.

"Sorry!" Jack called after Mrs. Dursley, "It's a Multi-Ghost Eradicator. It – CAREFUL WITH THAT ONE TOO!" Jack shouted at the movers. This container was shaking extremely violently, so much that they could barely get a grip on it. This one fell to the ground too, and fifty linked sausages, snapping and biting furiously, flew straight at Mr. Dursley, who let out a yell of horror and charged inside.

"Fall back, boys!" Jack called after the flying dogs, "He's clean!" the sausages retreated, forming a snapping defensive circle around Jack.

"And...MOVE IN!" they flew into the house, picking up their container as they went. Jack and Maddie ran in after them, each grabbing something. Jazz looked into the Dursley's now empty doorway.

"Sorry!" she called. Getting no answer, she marched over to the house, muttering, "I hope Danny's having fun."

----

From his mom's letter, Danny's family seemed to be doing well at Privet Drive. The only thing odd were their neighbours; they seemed to be against anything that didn't fit their idea of normal, treating it like a hideous thing that must be avoided at all costs.

"They sound a lot like your aunt and uncle," Tucker said to Harry, who was still grinning. Then it hit Danny.

"Wait," he said, "Don't tell me...my parents moved by your...they're living...right next to each other?" Harry's grin grew even wider, and as it sunk in, all six of them started laughing.

A month into the school year, there still had been no real reports on Death Eater activity. Even the rumours and stories in magazines like The Quibbler seemed to be dying down. Saturday changed all that.

Breakfast started normally enough. As he was thought to be a school ghost, Danny was allowed to come with them to breakfast, though as wizards' ghosts couldn't eat, he wasn't supposed to either. This proved rather difficult as he watched all the food being passed around.

"You've got breakfast upstairs," Hermione reminded him.

"Yeah, but it's not down here and I'm hungry," she ignored him. The owls came in, dropping off Hermione's Daily Prophet. She had barely unfolded it when she dropped it, throwing her hands over her mouth and her eyes looking fearful.

"What?" Harry asked, his eyes darting down to the Prophet. He too was schocked at the headlines.

DEATH EATERS ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN

BLACK CONFIRMED DEAD

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that, of the ten Death Eaters caught last year in the Department of Mysteries, the remaining seven have escaped from Azkaban prison.

Speaking to reporters in his private office, an irritble Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that Rodolphus, Crabbe, Rabastan, Jugson, Rookwood, Dolohov, and Mulciber, once thought to be respected citizens, have all managed to escape, killing two Aurors and severely injuring three more in the effort. The Aurors have taken over as the Azkaban guards since the mass revolt of the dementors, who are now in the employ of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Since the revolt of the dementors, Azkaban has been subjected to much bewitching and enchanting, in hope of providing a similar level of security. To date, however, the plan has faltered on more than one occasion before now.

"We again find ourselves caught off-guard by the Death Eaters," said Fudge last night, "It was early this summer, just after his capture, when Lucius Malfoy escaped. Avery and Walden Macnair soon followed. It has been difficult to put out a proper search for them, as many of our Aurors are needed to guard the fortress. Nor do we believe that Malfoy and the others couldn't have had anything to do with aiding in their fellows' escape." Aurors on guard that night, however, reported sightings of what appeared to be "strange, blue ghosts." One in particular seemed to draw attention, a dangerous, wild-looking thing that appeared to be made of some kind of armour.

Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has offered the opinion that these creatures are another variety of ghost, not well-known among the magical population. When asked his views on the theory, Fudge quickly changed the subject.

The Muggle Prime Minister has been informed of the dangerous nature of these criminals, with assurances that the true identity of these criminals will not be revealed. Among other crimes, the Death Eaters often hunted Muggles for sport and killed many members of the wizarding community who were Muggle-born.

Perhaps the only consolation is the confirmation that the infamous Sirius Black, one of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's strongest supporters, is finally dead. This was discovered some time ago by the Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries; exactly how is yet unknown.

Harry stared at the final paragraph of the article in disbelief. The Death Eaters were loose, Fudge still refused to listen to Dumbledore...and they all still believed that the worst of them was Sirus?

"Harry, pass the jam," he vaguely heard Seamus's voice, but did nothing, "Harry? Harry? What's wrong with...the Death Eaters escaped!?" Seamus's shout brought several people over, crowding around Hermione to get a look at the article.

"They killed two Aurors?" "Why won't Fudge listen?" "Wasn't Macnair here a few years ago?" "Two Aurors?" comments floated around the table, more people still trying to get in and look at the article. Harry's eyes finally moved away from the paragraph; Draco Malfoy had swaggered over, looking more pleased than he ever had before.

"Bit of shock there, isn't it, Potter?" he sneered, "Father was the first one out. Made the headlines all over, and not just in the Prophet. Shame they're still dogging after the wrong footsteps," Harry glared at Malfoy, hating him more than ever. People were still clammoring around them. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape were all engaged in a quiet conversation, looking extremely grave.

"How many does he have now?" Harry made out from among the crowd near him.

"At least he doesn't have Black anymore," Seamus said comfortingly. That was too much. Harry made to get up and tell them off, but Hermione pulled him back down into his chair.

"Let go," he hissed at her.

"Harry, we can't," Hermione said sadly, "I don't like it either, but the Order's still in secret and there's still no evidence that Sirus was..."

"Fine," Harry yanked his robes free, pushed his way through the crowd, and headed upstairs. Danny read over the article himself. A ghost in it be?

"I'll be right back," he whispered to Hermione, and, phasing through the crowd, went after Harry.

----

He found him in the Gryffindor common room, gripping his wand and shaking at trying to control his anger. He was actually rather frightening.

"That ghost they mentioned," Danny said after a brief hesitation, "I think that might've been Skulker."

"Really?" Harry answered in cool, uncaring voice that didn't sound like his own. Danny didn't know if it was wise to continue or not, but he had to ask...

"What's the deal with that Sirius Black guy?" Harry just stared into the fireplace for a moment, though he did stop shaking. Finally he turned to face Danny.

"He was my godfather," he said quietly. Danny could see pain in his eyes, "He was accused of handing my parents over to Voldemort and murdering thirteen people with one curse. But he was innocent. That was done by a Death Eater spy, Wormtail, a friend from Hogwarts. He was sent to Azkaban without a trial. In my third year, he managed to escape, and revealed Wormtail. But he got away, and Sirius had to run for it. We stayed in touch over the summer. He was like a brother and a father. Last year, in the Department of Mysteries...there was a fight with the Death Eaters and he..." Harry couldn't go on. He turned back to the fireplace quickly. Danny stood there, completely in shock. He'd been put through plenty by his enemies; Spectra's powers were rival to those of the dementors. He'd thought that Voldemort sounded worse than Vlad, but this drove it in to him in a way he couldn't explain. A single boy had lost his mom, dad, and the person who seemed to be the closest to a parent he'd ever had at the hands of this guy. That sounded like less than the tip of the iceberg for casualties.

"Voldemort wanted a prophecy from inside the Department of Mysteries," he heard Harry say, "It was about him and me. He tricked me into getting it for him, but it was smashed."

"What'd it say?" Harry gulped. He still hadn't told anyone about the prophecy, not even Ron and Hermione. They had never even asked about it. But like before, there was something about Danny that made it less difficult to talk about things.

"It said that I'm the one who can defeat Voldemort. And it said 'Neither can live...while the other survives,'" cold, dead silence fell after that. Neither of them moved, Harry still staring into the fireplace and Danny's eyes wide.

----

"You're sure they arrive at noon?" Lucius Malfoy asked. In the village Grimm, away from the eyes of the Ministry, the army of Lord Voldemort had settled for now. Giants, dementors, and newly recruited Death Eaters went about, the giants camped off away from the town and the dementors flying high above. There was a fourth party to these creatures; ghosts from The Ghost-Zone, recruited by Vlad to join Voldemort's army. Vlad and Lucius were standing at the edge of town, waiting.

"Skulker has his problems, but for things like this I trust him with my life," Vlad said simply, "He'll be here."

"For your sake I hope so," Malfoy looked up at the sky, "You should be very grateful to be alive after the dementor attack went awry."

"I didn't know Jack would move into The Leaky Cauldron," Vlad replied, now a bit tense, "I suspected he'd snoop around, of course, and I hoped Danny would find the wizarding world to get a taste of the future, but I thought they'd stay in the hotel they'd booked. I merely told the dementors who to find."

"The Dark Lord operates in secret. On your orders the dementors appeared outside The Leaky Cauldron, and it was again Harry Potter who stood in their way. I managed to convince the Dark Lord that the fault lay with the dementors. I convinced him that they sensed the wizards and gathered near the pub. Dementors can make up their minds for themselves, you know. I am skilled enough at Occlumency to hide our falsehood, and he accepted the story. Haven't you noticed that there are three less dementors around?" ignoring that, Vlad looked up.

"There they are," he grinned. A giant, flying, ectoplasmic-based hunting jeep flew down, seven Death Eaters in the back and the Skulker in the front. Several ghosts flew over, helping the tired wizards into the town.

"Any trouble?" Vlad asked as Skulker leapt out of the jeep.

"None," the ghost-hunter said.

"And...the other thing you were to find out?" Skulker grinned.

"It was difficult. But I, Skulker, always..." something on his arm beeped. He threw a hand over his face.

"Noooooo..." he moaned, "Why now?" he looked at the device, "I have to fly back to Amity, stare at a gorilla...AGAIN!" his jet-pack opened, and he flew off.

"Don't ask," Vlad said quickly, seeing Malfoy's expression.

"Welcome," they heard a cold voice behind them adressing the newly returned Death Eaters, "Welcome home, my family, back into the service of Lord Voldemort," as the seven were led away into different buildings, Voldemort made his way over to Vlad and Malfoy.

"Well?" he asked Vlad.

"Skulker's armour has a minor flaw," Vlad said, "But he has the information and will be back within an hours' time to reveal it."

"Excellent. Well done, Vlad," Voldemort turned away, heading to the building he kept as his private quarters.