A/N: Okay, I dun have any excuse. Except that Real Life stuck it's dirty little fingers in my eye and forced all my work aside. I lost all the files for this story, and thus, lost my interest in continuing it for quite a while. But I picked it up again after I saw the totally overwhelming awesome that was my ever-patient (and not-so patient) readers. Thanks you guys, and here's an extra long chapter (or at least I think it's long) that goes through October and ends there. The previous chapter was actually more of September rather than October, like I had said originally. So…yes. That's the timeline.
…I'm not confused. I swear!
In any case, please enjoy. This chapter has a ton of stuff in it, and it may be a bit rushed. Tell me if I need to fix it, and I shall, as usual.
And to you, the one who mentioned the horrible, horrible Latin translation in the first chapter – thanks so much again. I'll fix it as soon as I stop being lazy. XD
--
Phasmatis Cruor
Chapter Seven: All His Engines
:--:
Dear Mom and Dad AND Jazz;
I have no gifts yet for anyone, and the owl is mine. In case anyone was wondering about those things…well, now you know.
School's been the usual grind so far – nothing interesting except for Sam and Tucker's antics; though I have made a few friends. More like allies, really. My housemates don't like me that much, I think.
In a way it's just like school back home. Except less football and more Quidditch (mom and dad, please ask Jazz what this is because I'm sure she already knows by now, and I really don't feel like explaining).
So Vlad is running for mayor. That sounds fantastic. And mom? Listen to Jazz.
Also – you know how Lupin talked about that Voldemort guy? Yeah, everyone's really scared because of him – and I suppose me and Sam and Tucker haven't felt the fear because we're sort of new to this world. I keep track of what's going on in the newspapers, but a friend tells me they're sort of…not reliable. So it's hard to really know what's happening.
In any case, we have weird stuff happening here at school too (as if a magic school could ever be normal). One of our professors was sent by the Ministry (the magical world's version of our government) to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. She's pretty by the book, and keeps denying that Voldemort is back (like what Lupin said). I can't help but feel she's lying. Maybe it's because Lupin seems more sincere.
In any case, everything's fine. Nothing to worry about – just grades.
Take care of the ghosts while I'm gone! I miss the familiar craziness of Amity Park everyday.
Danny
P.S. I like the ring – put it on a chain around my neck to keep it safe; you said it was an heirloom, so I thought it'd be better if I wore it. I just don't like big rings, so I won't wear it on my fingers. And thanks dad, for the 'bracelet' – it got a lot of interesting looks.
--
The first DA meeting had gone surprisingly well.
Danny and his accompanying Slytherins had been very impressed with the way everything had been organized. Daphne Greengrass had gone out of her way to acknowledge Hermione Granger – though it looked like she took great pains to do so – in her discovery of the Room. Hermione had simply smiled and nodded in Harry's direction. The boy looked mildly embarrassed, but still pleased with the turn of events.
The name for the group had been decided out of majority to be 'Dumbledore's Army' – Sam had laughed heartily at that one – hence 'DA.' Harry was elected to be leader faster than he could protest – most likely Hermione's enthusiasm had infected everyone present, and they followed her. Harry certainly seemed to be the only one who really knew what they were going to be doing, so Danny thought that was fair.
The first lesson they decided, was to happen today. Harry had said this particular spell saved him last June from what Danny supposed was the infamous Lord Voldemort himself. That was good enough for him (and by everyone's astonished expressions, it was good enough for them as well). Plus, he needed practice with his wand work anyway – he was terrible enough as it was.
Sam and Tucker got to practicing with each other almost immediately, mostly because Tucker had boasted his prowess at this particular spell. Sam had immediately said, "Oh, really?" with an evil smirk in response.
Ominous music played in the background of Danny's imagination, and he simply watched in amusement as the proverbial sparks flew.
A finger tapped him and he found Hermione's grinning face. "Without a partner already?" she asked him.
"Never had one," he explained sheepishly.
"I'm not sure if you've done this one before – I know I mentioned it over the summer."
She had mentioned it, this was true. However, the one time Danny tried it, he nearly set Tucker's clothes on fire. He didn't try again after that.
"I haven't," Danny lied smoothly.
"Well then! You should at least practice the motions." And Hermione demonstrated. Her arms moved almost rhythmically, and Danny's eyes followed. "It's pretty simple, really."
"You say that," Danny said nervously. "But you know how badly I do with practical stuff like this."
"A few fires and you get scared," Hermione prodded with a hidden laugh. She stood across from him. "Now, without waving your wand, say after me: Expelliarmus!"
Danny repeated it. Surprisingly, he got the pronunciation right.
"Ready to give it a try?"
Sighing, Danny nodded and stood at the ready.
"Expelliarmus!"
Two voices shouted in close unison – but Danny's frantic waving was a second ahead of Hermione.
The normal light of a Disarming spell was a dull white and green. Unfortunately, what came out of Danny's wand was a green that looked eerily familiar to the halfa – it was the same color of his regular ectoblasts: a sickly green-yellow.
This discovery wasn't really a big deal – every one of Danny's successful spells had the same color – puzzling most of the teachers to the point of irritation. No one had quite figured out why this was so, though Danny had a faint idea.
Danny was shocked to see that his spell was quite successful this time. So successful that it lifted Hermione of the ground and slammed her into the bookshelf behind her.
All activity stopped as the rest of the group stared in surprise.
Danny gaped stupidly and immediately made to run towards his fallen friend. His motions were halted by a furious Ron Weasley.
The boy had his wand pointed at Danny's neck. "What did you do?" His words were sick with fear and anger.
Danny's eyes widened in honest surprise. "I just disarmed her!" he said, immediately defensive. Why was everyone looking so fearful?
"That wasn't the color of Expelliarmus!" growled Ron.
"Ron! That's enough!"
Hermione's voice interrupted their little tête-à-tête. Harry held her arm, but his eyes were on Danny – and they weren't entirely friendly.
"Hermione," Ron said, except this time his voice was brimming with relief. "Are you alright?"
"I'm perfectly fine," she said coldly. "However, I am slightly confused as to why you have your wand to Danny's throat. Did he do something wrong?"
"Hermione," Harry interrupted quickly. "The spell was bright green. We thought he'd…."
The unsaid words only confused Danny even more. As well as Sam and Tucker, who – surprise, surprise – had moved to surround Danny protectively.
But Hermione seemed to make an immediate connection. "You can't seriously believe that Danny would try to kill me!" she shrieked at Ron, mostly out of surprise rather than fury. "You heard his spell! It was exactly what a correct, albeit powerful, Disarming spell was supposed to do. As you can see, I'm quite alive." Her tones were exasperated near the end of her tirade.
Ron, confused, dropped his hand. Danny immediately moved backward.
"Why on earth would he try to kill Granger?" Harper glared angrily at Ron from his place across the room. "He's probably the only one of us who can entirely relate to her." By 'us,' Danny assumed the boy was talking about the Slytherins present.
"Look," Danny decided to diffuse a possibly violent transaction. "All the spells that I manage to make work have that color. No one knows why, alright?"
The room's tension levels dropped a few notches.
Ron glanced awkwardly at Danny, but his expression still held traces of left over resentment. "Sorry," he grumbled and moved stiffly towards Hermione – who looked like a mix between irritated and embarrassed. Harper, Danny noticed, was still trying to murder Ron with his eyes.
Danny blinked and breathed a sigh of relief as the world righted itself.
Tucker grinned shakily. "Well this bodes well."
Danny smiled at his friends, even though he was still confused. "I suppose we should practice as a trio today – safe bet for less excitement."
Sam laughed, though it sounded a bit nervous. "As if we could avoid excitement, even if we tried."
The three of them smiled secretly and got back to work. Thankfully, no one else was thrown forcefully into a bookshelf. Danny was grateful for that at least.
I suppose if I don't make more enemies while I'm here, I'm not doing my job, Danny thought to himself dryly.
--
It was just the thirteenth of October, and the trees outside had already decided to go ahead and wilt. The wind outside was cold and harsh, and rain fell occasionally. Luckily, it was evening, so most of the bad weather was disappearing with the sun.
Danny held his breath and let it out. He repeated this action several times. Calm, however, still eluded him.
"I thought you said you'd try out!"
"No, I said that I would try flying a broom – which you pulled me out of bed at the unholy hour of six in the morning for. I did fly, if you remember."
"But –"
"I didn't say I'd try out for the team!"
There they were on Sunday, standing in line for Quidditch tryouts – a line which was rather pathetically small (see: nonexistent) – and waiting for Harper's turn. Harper seemed to think that both he and Danny would go for a spot on the Slytherin team. Danny personally thought he was delusional, and obviously needed to go have a lie down.
Harper looked highly desperate, which admittedly tugged at Danny's sympathies – but still.
"Just have a go at it," Harper clamored impatiently, his voice sounding like a kicked dog's. "For me, if you must."
"Why would I do it for you?"
Harper nearly pulled out his own personal set of Bambi eyes. Danny's Will felt itself crumble slightly.
Darn it.
"Next!"
Danny blinked. It was one of his roommates. "Vaisey?"
"The Captain is out ill," Ormand Vaisey replied smoothly. "Bad case of pranks gone horribly wrong, you see. I'm taking his place at the moment; though I am surprised to see you here, Fenton. I didn't know you knew Quidditch." The guy almost sounded a little upset. Danny blinked again.
"I didn't until yesterday – Harper showed me how to ride."
It was the temporary captain's turn to look astonished. "You know how the game works, I hope."
"Barely," Danny's dry tones could have made a whole new Sahara.
"Then pardon me for asking – but what the hell are you doing here?"
"He's here with me. I want to try out for a Chaser position. Danny wants to try out for the Seeker position, or anything else you can think of." Harper butted into the conversation with all the subtlety of an angry bear.
"No I don't." Danny was quick to deny this contentious claim.
"Yes. Yes he does." Harper was just as quick to defend it.
Vaisey stared at them blankly. "You do know that Malfoy's father bought a whole set of brooms for this team three years ago." And that HE is the Slytherin Seeker, went unsaid.
"Yes," Harper managed to say without flinching. Danny thought that was possibly a sign of great and terrible stupidity – or possibly courage. …Most likely it was stupidity.
"I might not make the reserve chaser position – but Fenton will. He's brilliant."
Danny groaned against his hands, as both covered his face in embarrassment.
"What? Fenton, you could totally beat him! Your reflexes are so much better, and even though you were on a broom for only a short time on Sunday, you were still superior!" Harper whispered.
"Please don't talk anymore," Danny mumbled, somewhat in pain. You could hear the grimace in his voice. "It's only hurting me."
"But –"
"Look," Vaisey said a little impatiently. "Are you going to try out, or not. We haven't got all day."
Danny, still grinding his teeth vigorously, grabbed the broom from Harper's hands in a violent motion and leapt on; flying into the air in a blur no one else could really follow.
Harper beamed like a proud papa. "He picks up things really quickly. It only took him a few minutes to get the hang of flying."
Vaisey gaped a little. "Well. That's interesting. Points to him for being a fast learner," he said, composing himself. "Now, let's see how he does with a real snitch." Into a trunk, Vaisey reached down to unlock the snitch, letting the small golden ball of evil flit upwards and immediately zip off into the dusk.
Harper whipped his head around. "What? I thought you were only practicing with those small white muggle balls."
"Golf balls. As for Danny…since he's applying for a Seeker position, even if it's just reserve he's still going against Malfoy," he said in a low tone. "He needs to impress the rest of the team as quickly and effectively as possible. Otherwise, there's no way he'll get accepted." A quick glance towards the rest of the rather muscular team showed that their expressions were just as shocked as Vaisey's had been. "Luckily, Slytherins will still choose winning over debts repaid." He only sounded a little bitter at that.
"I didn't think it mattered much to you," Harper said, his voice blank.
Vaisey smirked a little. "I'm not a complete tosser, though Montague is – luckily, he's not here."
"Hey! Should I go get the shiny thing?"
They both looked up at Danny's yell. "Yes! Get the shiny thing!" Vaisey responded, cupping his hand around his mouth to be heard. The smirk, Harper noted, only increased when he said this, and he frowned at their temporary captain.
It seemed like an impossible motion, but Danny reacted in a way none of the people on the ground suspected. He nodded, spun around, and hurtled toward the Forest in what seemed like one, fluid movement. It was like he already knew the motions; he was just…unfamiliar with the equipment.
"That's - hmm. You weren't kidding when you said he was fast. How long has he been flying?"
Harper tried to get his mouth working again. "Muh. Um. Since yesterday."
"You must be joking."
It was about this time that Harper noticed Danny wasn't stopping, even as the snitch flew straight for the darkening woods. "No. I'm not. And does he realize he's heading into the Forbidden Forest?" The words came out a little nervous.
The Captain blinked out of his stupor and stiffened. He raised up his wand in a quick jerky motion, his expression flat. The tip spouted off bright, obnoxiously yellow sparks, which danced trails into the setting sun's sky.
"Did he see those?" Harper asked while squinting.
Danny turned into a small dot amidst the darkness before disappearing completely.
"I guess not," Harper responded to his own question in low, unhappy tones.
.
.
Danny flew straight into the thick darkness of the forest. He didn't even notice that his eyes were bright and glowing with a luminescent green-yellow. It helped him search the dark for that damnable flying ball. A snitch, or whatever Harper had called it yesterday.
He expected the forest to be louder, but the eerie silence was unnerving, and surprising. The deeper he went, the more the woods grew quieter.
It was soon enough that he realized he didn't know where he was.
I could always just tell Vaisey I caught it and immediately lost it to the evil, evil trees. He might believe me.
Nah, that sounded completely lame.
Danny thought about flying up and above the trees. Perhaps he could find his way back to the try outs that way.
Except he heard the shuffling of hooves against leaves first, and the sound made him still. "Who's there?" he called weakly.
"Humans are no longer allowed in our woods. Explain or prepare to be fired upon without mercy."
The voice sounded as regal as they come, and Danny's instincts told him to be as truthful as possible. "I was just looking for something I had lost in here. The snitch – it flew into the forest and I went after it. Er, can I go? I didn't mean to intrude. Actually, I didn't know this place had, uh centaurs."
"Of course you didn't know," another hidden voice said in contempt. "Humans don't usually think about the things they cannot see. The things they fear."
"Oh how true that is," Danny agreed abruptly. He clapped a hand over his mouth and quickly gave himself a mental kick in the shins. When would he learn to keep his mouth shut?
There was an abundant pause. It seemed that the centaurs had no idea what to say to that.
"Friends," interrupted another, deeper voice. "This one does not smell like the usual human swill. He smells of Death, does he not?"
All the centaurs, even the ones with bows, trotted backwards and shuffled anxiously. "…He does." The first centaur who had spoken muttered curiously.
"Sorry to interrupt," Danny spoke up again. "But can I go? I didn't do anything wrong – and I kinda don't want to die via an arrow in the head." He was only a little disturbed at this point, and the threat of imminent death didn't exactly invite warm, fuzzy feelings.
"You are correct," the deep voice said. His voice would have been kind, except there was still an edge of danger. "But we will not tolerate your presence in our woods again. You would do well to remember that."
Danny's eyes glowed in irritation. "If you don't like humans, you should stop acting like them," he said suddenly, dropping his hands – which had been in the air as an act of temporary surrender. "Tolerance of others is something that all civilized creatures should have; being a human or a centaur has nothing to do with it."
Angry mutterings sprung up from that statement.
Deep Voice spoke again, his eyes glaring. "You dare insult us in our domain?"
"It's not an insult unless it's true," Danny shot back. Idly, he wondered where this argument was coming from.
Then he remembered that for the past month and a half, he had put up with nothing but ignorant hatred from many of the peers around him; not to mention a year and a half of ghosts and humans alike believing him to be the worst thing to happen since the invention of infomercials, despite all of his unconditional help.
In Danny's opinion, this was a long time coming.
"We should kill him for such insolence!" shouted the first centaur again.
One of the darker, older centaurs raised his hand for silence; he got it immediately. Danny allowed himself to really shut up this time.
"Boy…or whatever you are, you have no idea the prejudice we have had to endure. It is has not been easy, and we have lost many of our people to misunderstanding and blind hatred. I would remind you to understand that most of us do not wish to threaten humans – most of us wish for peace. Sadly, until we have the eyes and ears of wizards, we will never have their interest…or their tolerance."
Danny sighed internally. "Well, I may not get your centuries of oppression, but don't assume that it's just humans against everything else. Because that's never the case. Humans go against each other just as easily as they go against other living creatures, trust me. Until we sort ourselves out, don't hope for much. Unless you're willing to understand us as well."
The old centaur stared at him in astonishment. Then his eyes crinkled into a smile. "Never has a human been so bold to tell us exactly how he feels. It has been ages since I have heard such strong sentiments."
"Aether – "
"I will not hear another word Magorian. This boy has told us his true feelings. Since they are neither for, nor against us, we have no say in his fate." Aether said this in a firm voice. "Not that we ever have a say in fate," he added evenly.
Danny's spine relaxed, and he felt his own aggressiveness crumple up and dissolve. "Thanks," he said simply. "I won't bother you again, I promise."
"If you do bother us, be sure to visit me," Aether sounded almost grandfatherly.
The other centaurs looked highly distrustful of this, but Danny simply grinned and gripped his broom.
"I do believe," the dark centaur said suddenly. "That this is yours."
"Bane!"
"I doubt he will leave the forest without it," Bane responded, a small amount of heat in his tone. In his hand was the missing snitch.
Danny blinked and took the struggling trinket without another word. He just grinned warily. "Thanks for not killing me. I appreciate it."
Aether simply waved once before the rest of the agitated herd vanished back from whence they came.
Danny flew up and out of the forest, wondering if what had happened had all been some strange hallucination. And he wasn't entirely sure if he'd just made allies, or enemies.
.
"Fenton! Thank Merlin – we thought you had been eaten or some such horrible thing."
Harper was there to meet him as he landed directly outside the forest. He grinned, and Danny was actually surprised to see him looking so relieved.
"It wasn't so bad – I found the snitch." And lo, he had.
"That's good," Harper said as they began to walk back. "You're lucky nothing tried to kill you in there. They call it Forbidden for a reason."
Oh the hilarity. Danny almost laughed.
"The try outs are over – I managed to get reserve chaser while you were out."
"Vaisey didn't call for a professor, did he?" Danny asked, alarmed at the thought.
"Oh no, but he did send me to wait for you. I suppose snitches aren't supposed to go past a certain boundary within the Forest, so he wasn't too worried."
"I feel loved," Danny drawled and clenched his knuckles around the snitch tightly.
"There's good news," Harper continued, excitement overflowing from his words. "Vaisey convinced the other team members to make you reserve seeker – as well as the temporary chaser for the next game!"
Danny had been trying to inhale, but made the mistake of exhaling at the same time, due to shock. He coughed for a moment before whipping his head to stare at Harper. "What?!"
"Vaisey said Montague was going to be out until the end of the first week of November. They needed a temporary chaser, and Vaisey even convinced Goyle and Crabbe that you'd be perfect for the job. Isn't that great?"
Danny declined to comment, mostly due to his inability to form coherent thought.
He set the snitch back into the wooden case – obviously left out for him – and stayed mute.
"Well? Aren't you going to say anything?"
Harper looked at him expectantly. Danny opened his mouth. Then closed it.
"…I need more practice," he grumped and walked past Harper, who merely grinned excitedly.
"I told you that you'd make it." He sounded so proud.
With friends like him, I'm not going to make it past the age of sixteen, Danny though morbidly as both boys headed back into the castle.
--
Danny remembered the feeling of fear. In fact, up until several months ago, he felt a similar feeling nearly every day.
Prof. Snape seemed to incur Danny's fight or flight instincts as naturally as birds flew or fish swam.
His momentary dose of adrenaline for the day was interrupted, surprisingly, by Hermione Granger.
She slid into the seat next to him as Snape swooped up and down the isles, like he was mentally taking attendance. "I asked Sam if we could switch partners today," she explained in a conspiring tone.
"Why?" Danny blurted out, slightly shocked. "Won't your friends, er…" he trailed off nervously.
A glance backwards would've earned Danny one of the worst glares that Ron Weasley ever gave (Harry just looked vaguely amused and surprised at the same time – but he too felt a pang of suspicion). Thankfully, Danny was still talking to Hermione, so he missed all of this.
"They'll be fine," Hermione whispered, waving a hand impatiently. Snape was already at the head of the class, shuffling papers in an impatient fashion. It was amazing how the man could make the simplest of tasks look terribly inconvenient.
"Five points from Gryffindor, Ms. Granger," he said coldly – apparently, he had excellent hearing as well as the incredible ability to be annoyed at everyone simultaneously.
Danny bit his cheek. He was used to this treatment when it was directed at Sam (though admittedly, it wasn't nearly as acidic as Snape's treatment of Harry and any of his close friends) – of course, he didn't have to like it. Unfortunately, there was little he could do to stem such attitude from a teacher – especially when said teacher was his head of house.
Plus, Danny had a distant, but firm feeling that despite his abhorrent behavior towards his students, Snape was someone he should have on his side. That and he didn't want to attract anymore attention from the bizarre man than he already had. Snape hadn't really gotten to speak with him since their strange conversation after the Potions Practical he had done back in August.
And Danny wanted to keep it that way.
He heard an unfavorable hiss, and one quick look behind him told him that it had been a red-faced Ron Weasley, partnered to an equally annoyed …Sam?
She caught his eye and grinned slightly, although traces of anger filtered through her expression nonetheless. Danny helplessly shrugged back, and she nodded her head in response.
After Snape's pronouncement of point deduction, the class seemed to silence itself, as usual.
As the potions professor recited the instructions, and then proceeded to write them down on the chalkboard behind him. Danny mentally memorized each ingredient, and it's relation to the different steps included in the process. They were making a potion called Contego Flamma; it was supposed to protect you from all different sorts of fire, excluding Fiendfyre. Danny had heard of the latter from Hermione during the summer, and he had been vaguely terrified of a fire that would never extinguish through any other means aside from exhaustion (as if a fire could even become exhausted…though this was magic – Danny still had some adjustments to make in this regard, despite his extensive experience with the paranormal).
After a moment of silence, Snape sharply intoned that they should stop gawking and get to work. The rustling of robes and clanking of scales immediately extinguished the quiet. "Would you mind getting the ingredients?" asked Hermione politely, still looking mildly irritated by her point-deduction from earlier.
Danny smiled quickly, noticing this, and got up without disrupting the cauldron. "Yeah, sure. Be right back."
On his way up, he sidled up next to Sam. "You're with Ron Weasley?" he asked in amazement. "Not that I'm complaining, but how did Hermione get you to switch partners?"
"She just asked me," Sam said, her voice amused as they inched up the line, waiting for their turn. "I'm not that attached to you, Danny," she said, this time with a self-conscious lilt.
Danny refrained from snorting loudly. He turned his head and grinned a greeting to Daphne, Tracey, and Mafalda – all three of whom waved sincerely back. Sam noticed his line of sight, and her eyes widened slightly. "So…you aren't entirely ostracized anymore," Sam said with quiet relief – tinged with a hint of jealousy that Danny obliviously did not take note of. "I wasn't sure after the first meeting whether or not they meant to stick by you, but…."
"Yeah, I'm as shocked as you are," Danny admitted dryly and finally started gathering the ingredients. Hmm…fire cactus nectar, goblin ichor, amber, Hungarian horntail scales, and red geranium; Danny gathered the listed ingredients recited in his head as quickly as possible. He hated running into Malfoy – which was something that would inevitably happen if he stayed in line for too long. "I'll see you after class then," he caroled to Sam as he left the line and scurried back to Hermione.
He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Malfoy had just gotten in line as he had escaped – no chance of a minor confrontation.
"Crush the amber as finely as possible –,"
"Or else we get a boil-inducing reaction from the drinker," Danny said in an amused voice. "I know Hermione; I did the reading."
She looked mildly surprised. "I didn't know you had taken a liking to potions," she said after a moment, her voice equally amused.
Danny turned to her and blinked. "What?"
She smiled at him and continued to stir. "Your enthusiasm is hard to hide, actually," she added knowingly.
Danny would look back on this moment fondly in darker times. For now, he simply blushed and stared hard at the amber he was currently grinding into a fine powder – nearly cracking the mortar while doing so.
Hermione chuckled and hushed conversation continued between them, silencing whenever Snape slithered by.
Unfortunately for Danny, this was to be his last truly relaxing moment for quite a while.
.
.
The next day was Halloween. He only remembered because Harper had told him eagerly about the awesomeness that was the Hogwarts Halloween festival. Tucker had just been ecstatic when he heard that there would be huge piles of food. Sam thought that a more traditional All Hallows Eve would be absolutely wonderful.
Danny was just happy that they didn't have to dress up. He was too used to his mom putting him in horribly cute outfits when he was younger. It hadn't happened for a few years, but the experience was still mentally scarring.
Uncharacteristically, he was alone while walking back to the Slytherin dorms before lunch. It was for this reason that he felt lucky instead of panicked when he heard Sir Nicholas calling out "Phantom?" in a loud volume throughout the castle.
Zipping into a nearby broom closet (those things came in real handy), Danny let the transformation come over him and he phased out into the open. He followed the friendly ghost's yells until they brought him to the entrance of the Great Hall, where both Sir Nicholas and Albus Dumbledore were waiting.
The white-haired teen ghost floated down to the ground, his mind whirling with questions and worries. Was he in trouble? If so, why the public exhibition?
…Was it obvious that Danny hated spectacles?
"Phantom?"
Danny blinked and realized he was being addressed. "Sorry," he apologized, smiling weakly, "Just a bit tired. I take it you were calling for me?"
Albus stared at him in bemusement. "I was not aware that ghosts could tire," he said in response. Before Danny could refute his previous statement, Dumbledore continued. "I did call for you. Perhaps we could hold our discussion in a less populated area?"
Danny glanced around and realized that the hissing noise he was hearing was actually thousands of little whispers being thrown around the hallway. It took a moment to realize that he hadn't actually been in the public eye for over two months. This was the first time Albus had asked him to appear during the day.
He waved weakly to the students around him and immediately went invisible.
Albus chuckled and simply headed back to his office, Danny trailing behind like the specter he almost was.
People were already inside the headmaster's office, and Danny blinked into visibility out of surprise – and etiquette. These people were his supposed allies; no need to hide from them.
"We have heard reliable word of an attack planned on a village not far from here," were the first words out of Dumbledore's mouth.
Danny blinked. "I understand that's important," he said in a mildly confused voice. "But, uh, what do you want me to do? I can't stop it by myself."
"No need for anything drastic," Albus said, but his tone was dark. "I understand that Voldemort will be searching for a large clan of werewolves in the area. The attack is a smokescreen of sorts; we did not discover his true motives until a few days ago."
The other members had faces which were familiar to Danny; Tonks as well as Lupin – whom he gave a grin. But Dumbledore's news made Danny feel entirely uneasy. "What should I do then?" he repeated, his words careful.
"We need more people on our side, and werewolves are human beings as well. Lupin has tried to negotiate with them already, but to no avail."
Lupin didn't look entirely disappointed by this. Danny could only imagine why.
And he was puzzled. Why would Dumbledore send someone as complacent as Lupin to bargain with potentially vicious creatures? It didn't make much sense.
"So you want me to persuade them?"
"I would like you to try. I don't expect success, but we will never know the outcome unless we make an effort."
Danny glanced at the expectant faces around him, and felt a tad overwhelmed. "I gotta ask, why me?"
"Sir Nicholas has informed me of many things surrounding your character that you yourself neglected to tell me," Dumbledore said with a faint smile. "I did not know you had such a formidable reputation amongst the creatures of the Dark."
To be honest, neither did Danny.
"Okay, I can try."
Dumbledore saw his expression and nodded slightly. "Order members will also be there – but they will mostly patrolling for Death Eaters in the village, just in case."
He turned and picked up a mitten from his desk. "This is a portkey," he continued. "Since I know it will work for ghosts – or simply just you – you may use this to appear on the edge of the werewolves' territory."
Danny felt highly skeptical of the whole thing, and he said so.
"I have faith that you might have a better chance of reaching some sort of truce, if not an alliance. You give yourself too little credit."
The halfa stared in astonishment at the people around him – still feeling the eyes of the others, some thankful, and most doubtful. They were putting a lot on his shoulders and they barely knew him.
"Your unique position as a supposedly 'Dark' creature with tendencies more in common with the Light could prove very beneficial, if you choose to use it."
He had no idea, thought Danny with wry overtones. Another glance at those around him gave him pause once more, but he wilted. They really needed him.
"…Alright."
.
.
The trip with the portkey was as unpleasant as usual. Danny landed on the edge of a forest – he could see the village beyond the hills, and absently, he wondered if the people who lived there were wizards or regular folks.
He shook his head and eyed the woods warily. He had not had a good time with magical forests as of late, and was expecting the worst. Nonetheless, Danny moved onward.
As he flew smoothly through the trees (quite literally – he was invisible as well as intangible), Danny thought back to Wulf. Ever since the mention of werewolves, he began to wonder if one of the only ghost friends he had was in fact a werewolf himself. It was a bit shameful when he realized that he knew very little about Wulf, and Danny resolved that he would ask him the next time they met.
He wondered how he was supposed to find these werewolves. It wasn't like they would have a sign saying, "Full Moon Inn, next right. Bring raw flesh, and get a complimentary back rub!"
The forest only got darker the deeper he went; the dusk wasn't helping Danny see any better either. A flicker of something caught his eye, and he frowned, quickly adjusting his flight pattern to follow the bobbing source light.
Soon enough, he heard, past the normal forest growls and snarls, low, hushed words. Like a bloodhound, Danny zoned in the direction of the voices.
"Why do you resist? You had no complaints when you joined the Lord's forces fifteen years ago."
Danny froze and stayed in mid air, floating carefully. Why did that voice sound so familiar?
"We wish for neutrality," a deep, gruff voice spoke. It was strange to hear such a wild, powerful voice using polite speech. "Unlike my predecessor, we wish simply to be left alone."
Danny inched forward and blinked.
A tall man with dark brown hair, wearing tattered clothes and an odd tattoo on his right shoulder, stood broad shouldered and strong. He was the one who had spoken last. Behind him, a group of similarly dressed folk hovered anxiously.
"You do not wish for vengeance? The ministry has held your people in the lowest regard for centuries. Surely you –"
"Do not," the brown haired man interrupted harshly. "Pretend that you feel any different."
The figure draped in black cloth, wearing a bone-white mask that eerily resembled a skull, seemed to tense. His wand, which was glowing brightly at the tip, wavered slightly. "I speak only for my Lord – he has no compunctions about what you are."
"Yes he does, he just ignores it until we discontinue being useful," a young girl, who had been standing behind the tall, burly man spoke up. Her voice trembled.
Danny listened intently. Dumbledore had been right – werewolves were good as well as bad; still human, in other words. Not that Danny had expected much different.
His eyes caught movement down by the main guy in black – the one who appeared to be the cloaked ones' spokesperson – and noticed that a gigantic snake was currently circling the man's feet.
A thought occurred to him, and he edged closer.
"For the sake of my people, I ask you to leave. We do not wish for conflict," the man said, in a voice that wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
"I'm afraid you will have to join us," the masked man's cold voice sent shivers down Danny's spine. "Lord Voldemort wishes it – so it shall be."
Danny suddenly thought of Desiree, which disturbed him to an unspeakable degree.
The snake hissed, and Danny swore he heard someone say, "Kill them!"
Sure enough, wands were extracted, and red beams of energy lit up the trees like neon light. Danny wasted no time and quickly overshadowed the great serpent, which writhed for a moment before stilling.
Get out spirit!
Danny wrestled his way into her mind, which was weird – because normally, animals had no will to oppose him. Even normal people were easier. Heck no! I'm trying to solve a conflict here! He argued back, absurd as it was to do so.
You are a mere poltergeist. Why should you hold any threat to me?
The words sounded a little different this time, and Danny, confused and not a little uneasy, lost his grip on the snake's mind.
A yell left his lips as he was thrust back out of the lithe, slithering creature, slamming into a nearby tree with a great deal of force.
"Ow…" he muttered, rubbing his head.
He was quickly motivated to move when a bright red ray caused the tree next to him to splinter. Danny picked up the pace, and flew upwards, then straight back down, slamming into one of the guys' wearing the masks. He didn't have a doubt in his mind that these were Death Eaters.
The man crumpled beneath him, and Danny had to remember to hold back some. Other ghosts weren't as susceptible to damage as humans were.
"Get him!" cried the voice he heard in the beginning. The werewolf tribe scattered into the woods, leaving only a few at the mercy of a much larger number of Death Eaters than Danny remembered.
He also assumed that 'him' meant Danny himself. Shouts were heard before several more red (and some suspiciously green) bolts headed his way.
Quickly righting himself, Danny raised both his hands and created a shield of his own energy, circling outward to encompass both him and the remaining werewolves. "Yeesh, where did you people learn to negotiate?" he taunted, not quite being able to help himself. A few more spells were cast, but they simply bounced off the large dome.
"What are you?" one of the other masked men asked, irritated.
Danny studiously ignored that question. "I'm gonna tell you once. Get out of here, and don't bother these guys again."
"And why on earth should we listen to you?" the smooth, icy voice from before penetrated the sudden silence.
"Because," Danny said, lowering his hands and letting his mind upkeep the shield. "I can do this."
His eyes narrowed and shot out beams of highly volatile ectoplasm, going easily through the shield to slam a few of the unwary Death Eaters into a pile of leaves and rock.
The eyes behind Ice King's mask narrowed furiously. "Protego!"
A shield of magical energy shot out from the man's wand, and collided with Danny's own, and the two rippled for a moment before both vanished entirely.
Wasting no time, Danny swept his hand in an arc, his ray of energy slicing dirt, debris, and rock high into the air while carving a deep gorge into the earth. He turned his head from the resulting chaos, and flew over to the remaining werewolves.
"I need you guys to escape. Let me hold them off, alright?"
The burly man Danny had seen from before stared at him in what looked like disbelief. "They'll kill you."
"Let me worry about that," Danny's voice was hollow despite his cockiness. "I need you guys to stay safe."
The man almost looked like he wanted to smile, but refrained. "Who are you?"
Hearing the angry shouts of the Death Eaters behind him, Danny shook his head and shoved him gently away. "I'm with Dumbledore," he answered hastily, and flew back to his one-on-five battle.
He honestly didn't know if all the werewolves had left, but he had no more time to worry about it.
"You have no business here, whoever you are." Ice King spoke again, this time with slow, careful enunciation. "Before we kill you, tell us what you are."
It was definitely a fight or flight moment. "You can't kill me," Danny said, by way of intimidation rather than pride. "So don't bother."
Long, white-blonde hair fluttered out from behind Ice King. "Oh? Are you so sure?" And without any warning, he made a slashing motion with his wand.
There wasn't a spell accompanying it, but Danny felt the sudden need to fly out of the way.
He moved too late. A deep gash appeared along his abdomen (rather than his neck, which he was thankful for), and he cried out in surprise and severe pain. Danny faltered in mid-air and sank back to the ground, holding his hands against his stomach, eyes wide and lungs gasping for air.
"Everyone can be killed," Ice King spoke again, but his voice sounded closer this time.
Danny felt a genuine fear build up inside his heart. This wasn't like his usual battles at all – the only thing that felt similar was his little trip to the future and back. And even then, he was dealing with himself. Even fighting Plasmius wasn't the same. This man…he was different.
He was willing to kill.
"Not. Me." Danny grit his teeth and disappeared without flourish, his fingers dropping the mitten as soon as he felt the familiar tug behind his navel, and he closed his eyes to the yell of rage that echoed after him.
.
.
Unsurprisingly, he arrived inside Hogwarts grounds.
Danny didn't know what time it was, only that it was darker than before, and he was feeling hungry. So he decided to make his way towards the Great Hall.
Obviously, the halfa wasn't entirely in his right mind.
He was bleeding a lot; probably more than he ever had before in his entire, illustrious career. He knew this only because his eyes, though fuzzy, were as clear as ever, and he could see bright green stuff spilling out from the wound on his abdomen, head, and various other places
Yeah, it hurt a lot.
Danny floated just a few inches off the stone riddled floor, and he wondered idly whether or not Filch would be angry about the mess he was leaving. Sure, it was a cool fluorescent ectoplasm-infused bloody mess, but this was Filch.
A small hysterical giggle escaped his lips as he neared the Great Hall. He was slipping, and he could tell, even though the only similar experience he had to compare to this was the time he stepped into an inter-dimensional portal and died. Not exactly the best of things to juxtapose his situation, but he thought the extenuating circumstances (and pain) justified his (temporary?) insanity.
He phased directly through the great wooden doors, and wasn't too shocked to hear the Hall silence itself. Coughing slightly (his spittle was speckled with bright green and dark red; not good), he floated all the way up to the three stone steps that preceded the staff table and then collapsed gracefully onto the floor.
A thunderous round of whispers and yells permeated the great room, echoing off the highest rafters. Danny's weary eye blinked open, looking upwards. Floating pumpkins, carved elegantly, hovered over his head. Oh right. Halloween. He had forgotten.
"Phantom? Are you alright?"
Danny's eyes wildly searched for the voice. He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed against him, making him recline once more. "No," he finally responded tiredly, wincing at his stomach's angry wound.
"What in Merlin's name happened?!" another professor shouted above the murmurs – Danny couldn't make out who it was.
Albus' face loomed over him, and Danny realized that it was his voice earlier. "Leave the questions for later. We have to get him some…sort of help."
He heard Umbridge's near-hysterical voice in the background and smiled somewhat bitterly. Well, even the infallible Dumbledore was at a loss. Danny felt proud, in the same way that a fallen deer is proud that its flesh is too hard for the wolves to chew.
Then the worst possible thing happened.
Danny shivered terribly, a visible cold mist escaping his mouth as he coughed up a little more glowing spittle. This was not turning into his best day ever. "Crap," he said his voice loud and clear, despite the whispers and startled yelps of realization.
"What is it?" Albus asked him, his tone deadly serious and much older than Danny had ever remembered hearing it.
"We have company," Danny responded quickly, trying to stand up. This time he succeeded – his hand gripped the great wooden staff table, vice-like in its intensity. He was only able to stand up because his wounds were finally beginning to heal themselves.
Took long enough.
"What, exactly, do you mean by 'company'?" Snape's cold voice snuck into the growing frenzy. Danny had forgotten how amazing his professor's hearing was.
It was here that a specter appeared, floating into existence high above the Great Hall before descending slowly into the silence below. His dark armor was wreathed in purple-black flame, and Danny spent no time realizing who this was.
The Fright Knight had returned.
But it was different this time. Danny had grown in many different ways – and was no longer the same boy who had fought the Knight on that Halloween so long ago. And even though green-red blood slipped easily from his torso and his hands, he glared at his not-so frequent nemesis.
In Danny's defense, the Fright Knight looked equally affronted at the halfa's presence. "Well Phantom," the hollow voice seemed to penetrate the very walls of the castle. "I simply wanted to revisit old stomping grounds – but it's a completely pleasant surprise to find you here."
Danny croaked, "Likewise, 'cept it's more of an unpleasant one for me, I'll be honest."
"Good Lord," said Nick, floating harmlessly far, far away from any of the action nearby, and nearer to the students. "I didn't believe he actually existed."
"Who?" Someone's anxious voice echoed loudly.
"The Knight of Samhain. He was just a legend on the ethereal planes!"
"Oh he's no legend," Sam's voice cut into the hushed conversation angrily. "But Danny's defeated him before. And he'll do it again."
With this pronouncement, the Goth girl stood up amidst the cowering populace.
"Remember the pumpkin!" she cried. "Danny, the pumpkin!"
The Fright Knight's staring contest with Phantom paused as he slowly turned. His visage, if possible, turned even angrier than previous. "You," he growled, his coals for eyes burning furiously.
Sam seemed to freeze up before she ground out, "Yeah, that's right, me. Glad you remembered."
Danny used this distraction to calmly punch the Knight in the face.
The ghost flew across the room into the stone wall, landing with a surprisingly loud, shattering crunch. A scowl flew over the Knight's face (mostly his eyes), and he launched off, unsheathing his sword, purple flames highlighting the eerie emptiness of his entire being.
And thus, a duel began, with Danny mostly on the defensive, his hands creating a bright green ectoplasmic shield to protect himself from the Knight's strong blows.
Sam immediately ran over to Tucker, despite Hermione's desperate yells for her to stay put. The boy looked only mildly shaken, but straightened when Sam gripped his shoulder tightly. They both nodded in unison, and made a run for the nearest pumpkin. Luckily, they weren't hard to find, as the smallest ones were about four feet tall.
Students decided to stay put; some hid beneath the great wooden tables, and some poked their heads out to stare at the unusual spectacle.
Snape and a few others had already tried firing spells, but the Fright Knight either blocked them or phased through every attack. The ghost was entirely focused on Danny, who didn't seem to be doing so well, due to obvious reasons involving the open wound on his abdomen (which wasn't healing as fast as he'd like).
Dumbledore had shielded most of the students. He had quickly realized that while the two…creatures were fighting, there was little he could do to interfere. His mind jumped to what would possibly happen afterward, and the words of Samantha Manson suddenly intruded into his mind.
Tucker and Sam had located a pumpkin simply by walking into it. Neither could lift it by themselves, but miraculously, it jumped into the air, and stayed there. Their eyes flew to the staff table, and met Dumbledore's expectant gaze.
Both of them gaped for a moment before pointing at the very middle of the Great Hall. The pumpkin floated and plopped itself down underneath a vicious mid-air battle.
Danny's sweat fuzzed his vision, and allowed another attempt at separating his head from his torso. Thankfully, the sword was obvious to anyone – even someone with debilitating battle wounds, and he went intangible just barely in time, flying sharply backwards towards the ceiling.
"I see I'll need the proper incentive for you to really get into the spirit of things," the Fright Knight said in a strangely calm voice.
Danny blinked at this and his mind suddenly realized what the spirit meant. "No," he said, his breath short and his eyes wide.
Too late, the halfa made a grab for the Knight's sword. But the dark figure had already flown straight down, in the direction of the Gryffindor tables. He had phased harmlessly through the shield, much to Dumbledore's alarm, snatching a figure up from the under the table.
Hermione.
Neither Sam nor Tucker had imagined this, and they, predictably, panicked. Along with most of the students around them.
But Danny didn't feel anything. Things had spiraled so far out of control, that for a moment, he didn't know what to do. Numb, he stared at Hermione's surprised and frightened face.
Then something snapped.
"Let her go," Danny's voice hissed angrily, his head tilted downward.
"Oh? Do you actually know this one?" the Knight said in a voice that didn't entirely sound like his own. Hermione tried to reach for her wand unobtrusively, but the dark ghost held both her hands in an iron grip.
"I said," an odd glow surrounded Phantom's form. "Let her go."
"Well, I'm not going to now," the ghost said, again sounding more and more like….
Plasmius?
It was all the impetus Danny needed.
The light from his eyes and hands were so bright, they were nearly white. He screamed in inarticulate rage, and brought both his hands together in a singular movement.
The beam of ectoplasmic energy slammed into the Knight so fiercely that he released Hermione out of surprise and force. The girl fell only a few feet before being levitated down by Ron Weasley himself, and caught by Harry and Ginny – just barely.
The Knight dropped his sword as he crashed into the wall, the beam still streaming into him with all the tenacity of an oncoming bull. He yelled in pain, but Danny just kept floating forward, something off kilter in his eyes as he pushed further and further. The wall began to crack and splinter ominously.
"Danny!"
Sam's voice cut through the dramatic display of power like a knife through bread.
The halfa's tired and angry gaze caught the image of his best friends holding the Fright Knight's sword; Tucker with the blade and Sam with the handle. It was hoisted over the pumpkin in the middle of the floor.
Danny grinned triumphantly. "Happy Halloween," he growled in the Knight's face. He gripped the spirit by the cusp of his chest plate and lifted him up with one arm. Then, he turned and hurled the ghost down to the stone floor below them.
Sam and Tucker shoved the sword into the pumpkin, and the Knight screamed.
The pyrotechnics and light show shocked everyone into stilled silence. After a few seconds the pumpkin simply pulsed with purple flame once, and the Fright Knight was no more.
There was a stunned silence before the loud thud of flesh hitting stone shattered it.
Danny lay where he had landed on the floor, breathing harshly and shuddering. He once again cursed that Death Eater and his 'trigger' happy cutting spells; this entire mess would have been over much sooner had he been in better shape. He didn't think there was a place on him that wasn't injured. It was like he was a living, breathing bruise.
He heard Sam's boots before he saw her.
"Oh man, Danny," her voice sounded frantic and weak. It shook him more than anything that had happened so far, and he hated himself for making her worry.
"I'm fine," he said in a voice that sounded the exact opposite of fine.
A hand on his shoulder, surprisingly gentle; "I don't think so." Tucker's voice floated above him. It sounded about as serious as he'd ever heard.
Other footsteps began to converge, and what was left of Danny's sanity started to panic. "You guys get out; I'm going the DA room."
Sam and Tucker both started to protest before Danny simply vanished, leaving the entirety of the Great Hall's occupants stunned and fearful.
Well, almost all of the occupants.
.
.
Three times, around; think of what I need. He remembered Hermione's strict instructions on how to get inside the Room of Requirement. Thankfully.
Stumbling on his miraculously still-operational two legs, Danny finally saw a small, modest door appear in the wall.
He didn't even bother opening it; instead, opting to phase through and collapse on a nearby couch.
Ow.
Two bright blue rings encircled him and Danny Fenton sat up – feeling much better.
He knew it was mostly just the fact that his human side hadn't suffered any damage – and he was used to the fact that when his ghost half endured these physical abuses, his human side tended to subdue them. But the phantom (no pun intended) pain still lingered, so he lay still, taking deep breaths.
The door opened.
Danny nearly shot a foot into the air out of surprise. "Who-?"
He looked into the mildly surprised eyes of Harry Potter.
"Fenton?"
"Yes?" he responded quickly, his heart racing. Please say he just wanted to check up on the room to see if it still worked. Please please please….
"Did you see that Phantom ghost come in here?" he asked, still somewhat puzzled.
Damn.
"No," I was too busy huddled up in pain. "I was taking a nap."
A warm wetness on his stomach startled Danny into taking a step back. His eyes drifted downward and saw spots of red on his white shirt.
He wasn't the only one to notice. "What is that? Are you injured?" Harry's voice sounded genuinely concerned, which surprised Danny somewhat. But it also sounded highly suspicious; which was something that didn't surprise Danny at all.
"Leftover ketchup from the feast." God, what a horrible lie – he wasn't even there for dinner. He shifted his robes to cover his front. "Why were you looking for Phantom anyway?"
"I saw him come in here – he seems to know about the Room as well, though I highly doubt he'll tell anyone about it," Harry contemplated aloud, seeming to re-focus his energy on the mysterious ghost. "Wait – why were you in here?"
"Told you, I was taking a nap," Danny said, not entirely lying. Well, he wanted to take a nap before Harry decided to interrupt.
"In the Room of Requirement?" Harry didn't sound convinced. It made Danny feel better that the guy wasn't a total moron – but he preferred it if he didn't try to play investigator on Danny's behalf.
"It has good cushions," he protested innocently. "Besides, I wanted to see if it did what you really say it does. Turns out it's pretty nifty."
Harry strode over to a bookshelf and quickly yanked out a book. "'The Self-Healer's Guide to Stomach Wounds'?" he asked skeptically of Danny.
Oookay, so the room works too well.
Of course, he didn't really have a response to that.
But before he could answer, someone else joined the party.
"Interesting – I've never seen this room before."
Danny's brain almost decided that this was a good time to just go on vacation – screw the rules!
"What are you doing here Malfoy?"
Danny blinked at Harry's exasperated and annoyed expression.
"Well," the blonde sidled into the room via the open door and smirked his usual smirk. "You snuck off. I decided that whatever you were going to do would be far more interesting than the general panicked assembly in the Great Hall. I was right."
"Does this look like a rave to you Malfoy?" Danny couldn't help but ask, his sarcasm deciding to start replenishing itself. At last. He ignored Malfoy's puzzled look. "We're in a small room full of books. Talking quietly. You must lead a very boring life."
Danny didn't bother paying attention to Harry's completely astonished expression.
"I was simply concerned that Potter would cause more trouble – I'm a prefect. It's my job to stifle student delinquency."
Oh, now that was just hilarious. And Danny advertised what he thought of this sentence by laughing loudly.
Harry blinked in sublime confusion.
Malfoy looked like he wanted to hurt Danny very badly. But he refrained for reasons unknown.
"I'm sorry," Danny said breathlessly, trying to regain his composure. "I thought you implied that you weren't a delinquent."
Harry shook his head and shot Danny a worried glance. "We should go," he said – in Danny's general direction.
This surprised both Danny as well as Malfoy. "That's funny – I didn't think the two of you were friends," Malfoy said in a voice that was chock full of suspicion.
"We aren't, trust me," Danny said honestly. He had spoken with Harry (both as Phantom and Fenton) a total of probably three times. The conversations were mostly about having a good morning – or a not so thoughtful 'thank you.'
Harry had realized his slip a bit too late, but he frowned in any case. "Of course not," he bit out. Danny blinked – maybe Harry was offended by his careless brush off.
Surprising.
Glasses glinting in annoyance, Harry silently made his way out of the room, leaving the door open behind him. Phantom had obviously been shoved aside – or forgotten. Either way, it was better for everyone involved.
Except Danny, of course.
He glared unappreciatively in Malfoy's general direction. It was one thing to be fooled around with be people older than him (-cough- Vlad –cough-), but having someone his age try to jerk him around was something entirely different (see: Dash, and infuriating).
"Listen, I don't owe you anything," he responded at last. His eyes were getting tired of glaring. His body was just plain tired. "So don't assume you did me any favors."
Malfoy continued to smirk. "I'll let you believe that."
Danny stood up and stomped out of the room as delicately as he could without hurting himself even more. But not before he had snagged one of the labeled healing salves for himself.
Malfoy followed, shutting the door behind him. "What were you really doing in there?" the boy asked, his voice sounding deceptive right from the start.
"Napping," Danny said tiredly. It scared him enough that they were having a civilized conversation; he didn't want to imagine why.
Malfoy glared, finally losing his patience. "If you wish to continue being an enigma, allow me to inform you that your charade won't last long. I am very good at finding everyone's dark little secrets."
"Glad you have a hobby Malfoy," Danny's cheek was really getting better the longer he stayed here. "But I don't have dark secrets." Just really annoying ones. "So you're wasting time."
"I don't believe that you're a mudblood," Malfoy blurted loudly, his voice irate as well as embarrassed.
And as Danny was about to respond to this ridiculous statement, Harper appeared around the corner – with a whole host of Harry's favorite Slytherins (he wasn't even being sarcastic here).
Along with a very relieved Sam and Tucker.
Both of them grabbed his arms and marched him off, the mildly confused Harper and company following hurriedly behind them. They left Malfoy with nothing, not even an acknowledgement.
Danny knew that all of this was going to come back to bite him later.