A/N: To those who've stuck with me, encouraged me, and totally inspired me – that's everyone who even clicked on the damn link – THANK. YOU. So much. It's hard to keep up this little crack hobby of mine when I'm trying to write my own original stuff as well. –laugh – Among several other things. Also, I must warn you. There's a long section at the end of the chapter that has IM-speak OHNOES. Not net-speak mind you, just people on IM, chatting. Hope you can forgive me; I usually refrain from putting it into fic, but it does fit, I assure you. Once more, if you find anything offensive/wrong/horrible/etc within this chapter or the entire fic, please email me/leave a review saying so. I'll get on it straight away!

Also – who saw Coraline and fell in love all over again? That's right. I DID.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything 'cept my love for mah fandoms. May they continue to thrive even after their series is finished.

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Phasmatis Cruor

Chapter Eight: Casting the Die

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"Why were you in the DA room?"

Danny only groaned aloud. "For the fifth time, I was napping. Is it illegal to take a nap?"

"No," Daphne Greengrass continued in place of Harper, her tone concerned. "I'll rephrase. Why was Malfoy in the room with you?"

"Did he recognize it for what it was?" asked Sam from his left, voice subdued.

Danny still held his robes closed as he felt the warm wetness spread with alarming swiftness. Funny thing was, he didn't notice any sort of pain – but that just made his worry increase. "No – I left the door open so it would just seem like a normal room."

No mention on how closing the door would have erased his presence completely, thus eliminating the possibility of other people finding him. No mention at all.

Harper looked like he was about to mention that, but Tucker decided to divert the conversation slightly. "Why was that Malfoy guy with you anyway?"

Of course, this didn't help stem Danny's discomfort, considering that answering such a question would involve bringing up Phantom – and Danny didn't really want to go there at the moment.

His vision swam precariously and he blinked. "I dunno – I guess he saw me asleep and decided to bother me. No clue why."

Harper finally jumped back into the dialogue, despite Tracey Davis' skeptical expression. "Danny, you missed the coolest, scariest thing ever. You know that ghost, right? The one from your home town?"

"Phantom?" Sam's voice said, a little tight with worry.

"Yeah!" Harper turned to face Danny, awe painted all over his face. "He just appeared in the Great Hall, all bloodied up, and then this other thing appears, and they fought!" The boy was really getting into this. "Phantom was already hurt, but he still beat him. Sam and Tucker helped him – say, how did you know about the pumpkin being a seal?"

"We had the same thing happen last year," Sam said quickly. "Saw Phantom do it by himself, and we wanted to help this time."

Graham Pritchard looked uneasy – as did most of the others. "It wasn't very fun at all – I don't know why you're so excited Harper. That ghost – Phantom – he was bleeding. I didn't know ghosts could bleed."

"They can't," Greengrass murmured. "Poltergeists can, however. But it is highly unusual for one to do so. Anything that's strong enough to injure a poltergeist worries me greatly."

Danny really didn't like where this talk was headed.

Sam sensed this as well. "Do you mind, um, giving us a moment? I need to tell Danny and Tucker about something I got in the mail today." The group of Slytherins all looked to her blankly. "It's private," she insisted.

Oh Sam, you wonderful, wonderful person, Danny thought hysterically. I'd hug you, but I'm bleeding a lot, and I don't think you'd want my blood all over your shirt.

The Slytherins actually looked to Danny for confirmation; it was a small act of loyalty that startled him. "Yeah – it's okay. You guys can tell me all about whatever happened later. I'll be right back."

"We'll see you in the library," an anxious Mafalda Ghidora spoke up, her voice breathless.

As the small group left them, Danny made it as far as the nearest empty classroom – which he entered before collapsing on the side of the wall nearest to him. Then he slid down with a wince. "I guess it all got a little exciting, huh?" he managed, blinking away his dizziness.

"Are you okay?"

He shot Tucker a scathing glance.

"…I'll take that as a 'no.' What happened to you dude?"

"Ran into a bunch of Death Eaters, on Dumbledore's suggestion. Defended some werewolves – again, Dumbledore's fault. Fought Fright Knight, which wasn't Dumbledore's fault. And now I feel like crap. Can I get a towel?"

Sam conjured one and handed it to him before Danny could blink. "Thanks," he said slowly and lifted his robes.

It seemed like such a simple action that Danny almost forgot how horrible he looked.

Bright, glowing green tendrils made veins through the rest of the incredibly red blood that was soaking his shirt. It had spread onto his robe, and he grimaced. He needed new clothes now.

…Or he could just use magic to clean off the blood. Duh. I am so bad at this game.

Tucker looked like he was about to faint. Strangely enough, so did Sam. "You still…you're injured? But you're human; it should have disappeared by now!" she cried in a hushed whisper.

"I guess spells that cut you are worse than knives. Or something. I'm not sure – it doesn't really hurt." At the incredibly skeptical looks he was receiving, Danny grumped: "No, really! I can't feel it."

"Well, in the medical world, some people might call that shock." Sam now looked angrily at his wound. "We need to get you some help. Now."

Danny reached into his pocket and retrieved the salve he had been hiding. "No worries. I've got this stuff – it should help enough for now." He chuckled weakly. If the cut had been any deeper, there would be more than just blood spilling out of him. Danny's face went 'squirk' at the thought. "I just need someone to do the laundry." He gestured to his clothes with his free hand.

Sam seemed to regain herself. "Don't expect me to do it just because I'm the girl, here." She said this with a hint of rebellion, but her cheeks were pink.

Danny simply laughed. After a moment he lifted his shirt again, and blandly began to dab up the blood. It was so strange. He'd never been injured like this – as a ghost or a human – so he'd never been able to see what his blood looked like. Of course, he would have rather found out via a paper cut, or even while using a kitchen knife in a clumsy manner. A large semi-shallow incision to the abdomen wasn't the most pleasant way to discover that sort of thing.

He also noted that while he had been a ghost, it was the opposite: there was a majority of glowing green-ness and less red. Weird.

I really am a freak.

Tucker sat down heavily next to Danny and sighed deeply as Sam began (good-naturedly) to clean his clothes. Magic worked better against blood stains than bleach. "This is so wack," Tucker finally said.

Danny didn't have a good response. Mostly because he agreed.

"I mean, this isn't the same as back home," Tucker continued. "Ghosts wreak havoc and destroy lives – mostly ours. But never like this!"

"Well, we signed up for it – we knew this was going to be dangerous," Sam countered quietly as she Scourgified Danny's clothes absently. She really was excellent with her wand work. "And we can't back down now."

"If I had known that dangerous and deadly were the same thing, I wouldn't have agreed to this," Tucker said mulishly.

Sam hit her fist against the stone floor suddenly (startling Danny), and glared at Tucker. "Danny is the one taking the hits, remember? You sound like you're the one sacrificing himself for the sake of others – but you aren't!"

Tucker flinched, but glared back all the same as he sat up. "I am worried about him more than me! I don't want to lose my best friend! I don't want Danny to die!"

The last word echoed in the empty classroom, and resounded desolately against Danny's ears. He had wanted to intervene like he usually did, but morbid curiosity had held him back. Now he was regretting it.

"Guys, I'm not going to die. Seriously, we've been up against worse before, haven't we?" Myself, for instance? "I'll be alright."

Sam and Tucker looked like they had resolved their differences, but both continued to look forlorn.

A pregnant silence followed, and Danny quickly went back to applying the salve on his now shirt-free stomach. His eyes kept darting to his friends; worried that maybe they were still angry.

Now it was worse. Now they looked depressed.

"Tucker's right," Sam finally spoke. She set aside his now very clean clothes (excluding his pants, obviously). "This is different than back home."

"Sam's right too!" Tuck insisted urgently. "We still had a pretty good idea that it was going to be more…deadly, so we can't back out."

"But," Sam continued, and her voice turned devious. "That just means we're going to have to change the rules."

Danny and Tucker both looked disturbed. "Do I want to know what you have in mind?" Danny asked with a small smile.

"I need to ask around and do more research." She grimaced. "That involves actually listening to that Umbridge woman more closely." Sam tilted her head and wiped the irritation from her eyes with a quick grin. "Luckily we go to a school that happens to have the two people that Voldemort hates the most."

Tucker looked much better already. "Oh right – that Harry Potter kid."

"And Albus Dumbledore," Danny continued, suddenly realizing how important this fact was.

"The two people he hasn't been able to coerce or destroy," Sam affirmed. "Sounds like a beautiful source of information to me."

"They say that the Slytherin house is mostly gunning for this Voldemort." Danny saw his wounds slowly closing and felt a warm, tingling sense of relief. Grabbing the towel again, he cleaned off the ring that hung around his neck. He looked up to Sam as he did this. "But obviously that's not true. We know people who break that mold."

"I suspect Malfoy is someone who goes along with the belief that muggle-borne are scum – since Voldemort feels the same, I'd say that he'd support the Big V." Tucker's input was very true, and for some reason, Danny felt a shiver of discomfort that had nothing to do with ghosts.

Sam sighed, but it wasn't entirely because she was upset. "We need him to talk to us."

"Us?" queried Danny, holding back a bark of laughter. "None of us could even come close to talking to that stuck up –"

"That's not true." Sam looked him in the eye. "You could."

Danny felt that discomfort turn into disgust. "Oh no."

"Oh yeah," Sam countered, a small sympathetic grin on her lips. "You need to make peace."

"Look, even if I do manage to make him not hate me, he still wouldn't talk to me – I'm muggle-born, i.e. scum, remember?"

Then Danny paused. As the group had met him and carried him off thusly, Malfoy had mentioned something – what was it? He wracked his brain for a moment.

"He didn't think I was muggle-born." The words came out slow and thoughtful.

Tucker choked. "What? But of course you are; your mom and dad have absolutely no wizarding skills whatsoever. Lupin tested them, remember?"

"I know, Tuck," Danny set aside the very bloody towel (which Sam Banished with a vicious swish of her wand) and put a hand to his forehead, trying to regain some balance. "So why would he think otherwise?"

The trio sat in silence, contemplating this curious conundrum.

Sam broke the aforementioned silence with a short gasp. "The Slytherins are in the library. We should go."

Danny felt like giving himself a smack on the back of his head for not remembering, but refrained, as he was sore enough as it was.

A blush highlighted Sam's features for a moment as Danny stood up to slide into his shirt and robe, re-tying his tie around his waist so as to cover up any possible leaks. Strangely enough, the wound continued to remain painless. Ironically, this made Danny more nervous.

Of course, he didn't notice his friend's expression. And for once, neither did Tucker.

In hushed whispers, they quickly came up with answers to any possible questions they might be asked, and headed down towards the library; Sam supported Danny unconsciously as they made their way.

Bartholomew Harper paced urgently, and tried to stem the flow of questions entering his head. The library was dark, and only lit by the dim light of candelabras placed throughout the cavernous room. Whatever light there was available only managed to burn the dark rings around his eyes into a deeper black.

The chaos of the Halloween feast had tapered off into mild panic, which had finally filtered down into hushed whispers and wild theories.

In actuality, Dumbledore had immediately called a halt to all noise when he ordered the prefects to deliver all houses directly to their common rooms. Samantha Manson (the Gryffindor) and Tucker Foley (the Ravenclaw) had, surprisingly, sought them out first. The dark haired girl (with unusual taste in makeup) had ushered all of them away from the confused masses and went searching for their missing friend: Fenton.

Bartholomew had wondered where his friend had disappeared to after lunch that day – and when he had asked around, no one could tell him where he had gone. Even Foley and Manson hadn't had a clue, and had admitted their own worry as to where he was (when he wasn't in class later).

He was starting to suspect foul play when they went to the feast – and Danny was nowhere to be found. The group of Slytherins that had decided to stick by Danny despite it all had immediately taken up a spot on the bottom of the food chain, so no one really talked to them much anymore (Bartholomew had already been used to this). His eyes found Malfoy – and suspicions built until that Phantom character interrupted the meal.

Checking the Room of Requirement had been his idea, actually. No one asked why because they were getting to the point of desperation trying to find him. Something for which Bartholomew was incredibly thankful.

Now it was nearly midnight, but the small rag tag group of snakes couldn't sleep – waiting anxiously for their unexpected, and unusual, friend.

"Maybe he was sleeping in there the whole time," Tracey said in exasperation, finally breaking the boy's habitual movements.

Bartholomew was looking more drawn than usual. There were lines of sleep around his eyes, and he looked paler than Mafalda – which was a feat all by itself. Even when he had been excited earlier, it was a farce compared to his usual exuberance. "It just seems so…weird to me. And dangerous! Especially with that cow Umbridge banning all the student organizations. What if Malfoy had realized what the room really was?" he asked, sounding a bit frantic.

"Malfoy's intelligence is only exceeded by his humility," Daphne said, voice scathing. "I don't think he's capable of realizing the true potential of anything. The Room's power is safe."

"But…he doesn't talk to Danny unless he absolutely has to," Graham said quietly. The lone twelve-year old sounded surprisingly like he belonged – which (Bartholomew noticed) hadn't ever really happened before. "So why then? And how did he know where to find Danny anyway?"

Mafalda sighed and twirled her short, bright red hair. "I don't know – there are too many questions that we can't answer without Danny present."

Daphne shot her shy friend a sly glance, but didn't say anything incriminating. Mafalda blushed lightly.

It was about this moment that their topic of choice hobbled into their section. "You guys picked the most ridiculous place to hide out – the history section? Really?"

Danny's face was pale, but grinning. Bartholomew noticed this first, and commented boldly, "What happened?"

The boy in question shrugged and sidled away from Manson with ease before sitting down. "Took a long trip down some short stairs just as we were coming here. No big deal. I'm inherently clumsy anyway."

"Shouldn't you try to reduce the swelling?" asked Mafalda, who had assumed that he had most likely hurt his ankle or some such thing. She actually looked more concerned about it than Danny did, which Bartholomew inwardly thought suspicious. Danny wasn't normally someone

Danny took out his wand tentatively and looked at it, while both Sam and Tucker smothered their laughter. He glared at them and muttered in annoyance, "I'm afraid I'll just make it worse."

Daphne shook her head. "You truly are abominable with your wand work."

"Maybe it will work this time," Mafalda defended in Danny's place, her voice huffy. "Go on Danny – if anything, we can take you to Madame Pomfrey to fix it."

By the look of skepticism on Danny's face, the boy was obviously against the idea.

Sam grinned and shook her head. "He didn't sprain it – he just landed on it wrong. Nothing to worry about."

Bartholomew took a seat and ran a hand through his hair, confusion written on his face. "Where were you today?"

Danny grimaced. "Sorry I didn't let you guys know. I got an owl from my family and had to make a trip to the bank."

It was so unlike his suspicions and imaginings that Bartholomew blinked in surprise. His head had been filled with so many different ideas that something this simple seemed almost laughable. It took a few moments for it to sink in completely. "Gringotts?"

Danny looked at him again and shook his head with a smile. "Nah – Washington Mutual. It's a muggle bank, and lucky for me, they have a branch in London."

Several blank faces coalesced into comprehension. "I've always wondered about how muggles dealt with monetary funds," Daphne said, a thoughtful expression lighting her eyes.

"It's not that exciting, trust me," Sam interrupted for a moment, her good humor spilling over. "Wizarding banking rocks. You guys have dragons. Beats a security guard any day." She laughed at the image it presented, and garnered a few chuckles.

"How," started Tracey and then stopped. "How did Malfoy find you?"

Danny groaned. "It certainly wasn't because I invited him." The boy smoothed the part of his robes that folded over his stomach and scratched his chin. "I snuck into the Room to catch some Z's and then Harry Potter rushes in asking if I've seen Phantom, and then Malfoy walked in – and I gave up half way through the proceedings and decided it wasn't any of my business."

"Really? So Malfoy followed Potter?"

"Yup," Danny said, sounding more tired than he looked. Bartholomew frowned. "That Harry kid is okay, y'know? Malfoy still wins at being annoying."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "It's a wonder how my sister was ever attracted to Malfoy in the first place."

There was a long, incredulous pause. "Wow," Sam said. "Yuck."

Bartholomew sighed. "Danny, I know you'll think we're just being bothersome by acting this way – but really, let us know when you're going to go off somewhere. There are too many things going on right now for us to be complacent when one of our own goes missing."

Danny, to his credit, looked sheepish and solemn at the same time. "I'm really sorry guys," he lay his palms flat and face-down on the table before him. "That includes Sam and Tucker too." At the mention of their names, the two looked startled. "I don't know the situation well enough here, and I haven't been in England for very long, so I can't even imagine what all of you are going through. We don't have anything like this in America."

Mafalda sat down next to Danny and put her hand over his. "We don't blame you Danny. At all. We were just…worried."

"Most of us believe Potter," Daphne said, with Tracey nodding and Graham looking out from under his bangs. "What he said about the Dark Lord returning…we know enough of the wrong people to know that he's most likely right."

"We've already shown more support then we meant to," Bartholomew said briefly. "Now that the DA is official, and we showed up and signed our names, Potter should know he has supporters in the snake pit."

Sam shook her head, but her eyes rested upon Mafalda's hand placement. "But most of the DA members suspect you're here to spy on them. For Umbridge, if not for yourselves." She received a few hostile looks. "What? I'm just telling it like it is!"

"Sam's right," Tucker spoke up. "The Ravenclaw members think the same thing. Excluding some of us."

"What do you suggest we do?" asked Tracey, raising both her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Well, two things, actually," Sam said, starting to get into the whole 'scheming' thing, a smile lighting her eyes. "Let Danny talk to Malfoy and pretend to be friends with him. No groveling involved, I promise," she added at the irritated look that crossed Danny's face. "He needs to think that you think he's great is all." Danny's expression quickly set itself into unhappiness personified.

Daphne still looked unconvinced. "And number two?"

"You guys need to talk to Hermione. She trusts Danny, but she only sort of recognizes that you guys are not typical. She needs more than that – and then she'll tell Harry."

Daphne's eyes caught Mafalda's, whose own trailed over to raise her eyebrows in Danny's direction. Danny transferred the gaze to Tracey and Graham, and then sighed. "I think it's the best chance to keep people like Malfoy off our collective backs. I mean, don't they say 'keep your friends close…'"

"'And your enemies closer,'" finished Daphne, her lips forming a smirk involuntarily. "Besides, I like Granger. She's smart, and definitely a bleeding heart."

Sam stared. "You like that trait in particular?"

Daphne laughed, but it was kind of empty. "I like it in other people, Manson," she explained, examining her nails.

Tracey smartly stepped into the conversation. "Granger's got a lot of guts. But not the dumb kind that gets most people killed."

Danny's face scrunched up like he was trying not to laugh, and he turned his head. Bartholomew ignored the response for now. "I mean, let's face it. Without Hermione Granger, those guys would have been dead a long time ago," he added.

Tucker was the only one who snorted, but the three Americans smiled simultaneously. The Slytherins all glanced at each other, feeling very much like they had missed out on an inside joke.

The atmosphere was interrupted by Danny, cracking his knuckles and yawning expansively. "Well, I don't know about all you guys, but it's officially past my bed time."

Sam and Tucker practically leapt from their seats, and goodbyes were quickly exchanged. Daphne had made Sam promise to partner with her in potions. Bartholomew was one of the few who recognized the significance of such a demand; Daphne was officially opening up relations with Sam Manson. Merlin willing, they'd actually work well together.

Danny was still hobbling slightly as the group snuck back to the dungeons. Yet the minute Bartholomew caught the other boy's eye, he straightened and pretended like nothing was bothering him. Not for the first time, the fourth year cursed his luck: if only he was a year older. Then he'd be able to interrogate his friend past curfew and not get in trouble for it.

"Still, I'm sorry you missed the lightshow at the Feast," Mafalda was saying in a quiet, but somewhat star-struck voice. "That ghost – no, poltergeist – he was amazing."

Bartholomew had to agree with this. "Scared the bleedin' hell out of Dumbledore for a moment even, I think. Not many things can do that."

"I wonder if Dumbledore really knows everything that goes on in here," Graham said, paranoia showing through. The youngest member of their troupe looked this way and that nervously. "It certainly seems like it."

"What is he supposed to be? Santa Claus?" Danny said and muffled his own snickering.

When there was a significant lack of similar reactions, Danny blinked. "No way. You guys don't know about Santa Claus?"

Mafalda and Tracey both shook their heads. "We do, but," Mafalda started and blushed.

"It's not a name common around these parts," Tracey snarked pleasantly. "Christmas kind of grew on the wizarding community, but the myth of Santa has been lost to the ages," she added, looking mockingly wistful. "Alas!"

Danny blinked several times and sighed. "Lucky."

Bartholomew gaped before coughing. "Wait, was that – envy in your voice?" he asked, incredulous.

Danny's long, drawn face stopped all questions in their tracks, skidding together in his throat. "It's…it's a long story. Let's just say my family is unique. And obsessive. And…. Yeah."

Daphne snickered openly. "I promise, when you're not so dead, I'll ask you again. And you'll have to explain."

Bright blue eyes exuded his concurrent thanks and resentment. "Oh yay. I can't wait. Please, someone keep my enthusiasm in check."

"Absolutum Dominium," (1) Bartholomew said quietly, watching with tired fascination as the passage opened itself. "You're sarcasm is showing," he added as they collectively hid their grins of agreement.

The group split to traverse and disappear into their respective dorm rooms. They were all long gone before Bartholomew or Danny.

Before Danny slipped away, Bartholomew clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked, all innocent and sleepy looking. Bartholomew wasn't buying it. He would not be denied his final few words because Danny could manage the puppy-dog look.

He took a breath. "I can tell you're really hurt." At this, Danny's eyes widened: the tell-tale universal sign of guilt and surprise. "I don't know what Malfoy did – or whatever happened," he hurried, not wanting to lose momentum. "But when you want to tell me the truth, I'm here. Trust me."

And with that, Bartholomew scurried off. He pretended not to see the look on Danny's face. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Danny wasn't just guilty.

He was scared.

Nick was the one to inevitably wake him from his horrible dreams, and general lack of overall sleep. Danny nearly fell out of bed when Nick grasped through his shoulder, sending freezing tingles up and down his arm.

"Daniel," the ghost whispered as best he could while Danny tried to right himself. He was still off balance from Harper's earlier invitation to talk – he still wasn't sure what to tell him. Despite the fact that it was quickly becoming a necessity, he still hated lying to people that he actually liked. And yes, that did include his parents.

"You can't come get me in here!" Danny hissed, panic – not anger – invading his voice. "Next time tell Dumbledore to just send me an owl." He stood and quietly fixed his bed sheets.

"If those weren't being monitored," Nick continued, gray wisps of him glowing in the darkness. "He would have notified you that way. And there are no portraits in here. Plus, they would have been far too noisy."

Danny refrained from saying anything and stomped – stealthily – out the door of his dorm room, Nick following behind.

After a little awkward silence – which Danny was starting to really feel at home with lately – he gulped. "M'sorry about snapping at you," Danny said once they were outside the dungeons. A quick glance around and he slid into a broom closet, transforming immediately. "It's been a long night."

"You had many of us worried," Nick admitted, and his voice was meeker than usual.

Danny floated casually as they made their way up the castle floors. "I have had worse," he kind of lied. "But yeah, Fright Knight was a surprise."

"Is that what you call him?"

Danny shrugged and grinned. "Only thing he called himself. Times change I guess. You knew him as something different?"

Nick waved to the gargoyle – it rolled its stone eyes at them and hopped aside. Apparently, ghosts didn't need to say the password. Danny assumed it was because they could slip in and out of Dumbledore's office whenever they felt like it, so the whole flying up the stairs and knocking was kind of a formality. "His duties never change," Nick explained. "He's the spirit of Halloween. Samhain – the celebration may shift dates between cultures – but the idea is the same. And 'Fright Knight' as you call him, is that idea personified."

Danny blinked. "So he's not a ghost?"

Nick chuckled, sounding a bit more like his usual self. "Well, technically, neither are you, my dear boy."

White hair whipped around and paused. "I know this'll sound weird to ask," he said, words soft and tentative. Green light reflected off his hands and Danny blinked, sluggishly coming to a stop before Dumbledore's office door. "But, are there others like me? I mean, aside from the one I already know about."

Nick contemplated for a moment. "None that I know of. But you might want to ask the Baron. He's been around much longer than I have." He grinned and turned to head away. "Come visit me at the Astronomy Tower sometime – there's something we'd like to show you."

He opened his mouth to ask what, but Nick had already phased through the nearest wall. Danny's mouth set in a frown, but he sighed and went on ahead, slipping through the door and apparently startling the group gathered there into silence.

"You wanted to see me?" Danny Phantom grimaced only a little as he said this.

Remus was there looking a little bewildered, joined by a serious looking Prof. McGonagall, Prof. Snape, and Albus Dumbledore. A big, black, shaggy dog lay underneath the phoenix's perch, and it looked rather put-out.

"Are you sure you're alright? I was under the impression that spells wouldn't harm you," Remus blurted out before anyone could say anything.

Danny smiled. "I'm a fast healer. Besides – it's only because of my shield that you couldn't hurt me. And intangibility only works for so long before I have to go back to normal," he added, landing on the ground to cease floating up above it.

"Your wounds, I'll admit, looked dreadful," Dumbledore stated, sounding a little concerned. "However, you are a spirit – they couldn't last for too long," he said, inquisitive; like he was asking a question without making one obvious.

"No, they don't usually," Danny answered sheepishly. "Sometimes the more 'mortal' wounds, the worse off I am – which explains last night. But I'm really okay," he insisted, hoping to move away from this topic.

Dumbledore smiled knowingly; it was an expression that always put Danny at unease. "Good to hear. Now – the werewolves. Did you get any chance at all to speak with them?"

"I saved their collective butts," Danny said frankly. "But they were grateful – I mentioned your name, but I didn't say who I was." He had thought, at the time, it was simply because he was being bombarded with potentially deadly spells. Later on, he had realized that deep down, he hadn't wanted the Death Eaters to know who he was at all. The fact that he had thought of that while being attacked said something. He just didn't know what was being said yet.

"They were willing to join the Death Eaters?" asked Remus, sounding a little like he expected the answer to be 'yes.'

"No, actually. They weren't," Danny said, pleased with himself for remembering. "They were completely against it – apparently, they had a new leader or something. He didn't want to, so no one else did."

If anything, Danny thought with some amount of desperation, remembering the young girl-werewolf's face. Let them stay neutral. It's not fair to ask people like them to fight for others who may never accept them for who they are.

Remus looked surprised, but definitely happy. Dumbledore looked like he had already figured this out. Danny wasn't surprised by the latter.

"Who attacked you?" asked Snape with a strange sort of perfunctory tone.

"I don't know – it's not like we exchanged names or anything. All I do know is that they were Death Eaters, just the way you guys described them. And the guy who tried to disembowel me had long blonde hair."

Everyone, even the dog, stilled. The tension, however, dissipated as soon as it had occurred. "Very well done – and I'm sincerely glad you are alright," Dumbledore said, eyes old and weary. "To be honest, when I saw you bleeding in the Great Hall, I feared for you."

Danny blinked. "Well, I am dead," he said despite the fact that it was the biggest half-lie ever. "So I'll just look horrible before I go back to normal." It was an attempt to lighten the feeling of heaviness in the room.

It didn't work well, but it did bring a small smile to Dumbledore's face. "It is simply because you look too human, that's all. Most of the staff believed you were going to…well, disappear somehow. I assured them that was not the case. I'm glad I was correct."

Danny grinned sheepishly. "Nah, I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

The meeting acquitted itself successfully, and Danny made to zip through the castle – literally – to meet up with Nick before he hit the dorms…and all without anyone noticing. He was stopped however, by an odd discussion that lingered in Dumbledore's office.

"What exactly happened yesterday? Nobody tells me anything," came a voice Danny just barely recognized.

Sirius Black.

He immediately stilled outside the door, and stuck his head through. Invisibility and curiosity with the addition of intangibility, Danny had realized, was one of the best combinations ever.

"We had heard it was a Death Eater attack; obviously that was merely a cover for their true intentions," Dumbledore spoke with patience. "They wished to gather the nearby werewolf society, previously known as Gunnerkrig pack, into their fold. I am no longer sure what they call themselves presently."

"New Alpha?" asked Remus in a somewhat mild voice. It sounded subdued to Danny. He remembered during the meeting just moments before, how Remus looked really sick, with deep dark circles under his eyes. He wondered idly if there was some sort of bug going around.

"According to Phantom, they have a new leader," Dumbledore explained to Sirius – whom Danny had no idea how he had gotten in there so quickly; he simply chalked it up to magic and let it be, not wanting to think about it at the moment. "And I believe Phantom managed to at least let them know that we are as receptive to their needs – more so even, than Voldemort."

"He did not sound so confident," Snape said, and there was a deep note of resentment within his voice. Danny wasn't entirely sure, but he had the faint notion that Snape's displeasure wasn't directed at him.

"I have faith in him," Dumbledore's words were the last on the subject, and Danny was inherently surprised – as he was whenever anyone other than Jazz, Tuck, or Sam spoke up in his defense. He simply wasn't used to it.

"If there is anything you need from me Albus," Sirius' deep, weary voice shook Danny out of his pleasant daze. "Let me know."

Snape's displeased gaze only rested on Sirius, Danny noticed. "When we wish for the services of the house elf you have so nobly commandeered, we will inform you."

Remus put a hand on Sirius' shoulder; the man had just begun to lurch forward, an angry expression on his face. Danny realized with a sudden start that Remus must be a lot stronger than he looked. "Don't you two start," the pale-faced man bit out, his voice broaching absolutely no argument. "We've got enough on our plate as it is."

By the startled looks on both Sirius and Snape (though Snape looked much less so), Danny swiftly concluded that this wasn't typical Remus Lupin behavior.

Abruptly, Danny felt like he had overstayed his welcome. Especially since Dumbledore had stilled and looked like was going to turn around – which would have him facing Danny directly. And, as Danny so wonderfully recalled, Dumbledore had no issues with seeing through invisibility.

Danny quickly left the party; and made his way out of the corridor.

Well, that was interesting. He knew Sam and Tuck would kill to hear about his new little observations. He insisted to himself that he wasn't spying – just, you know, checking up on his current 'employers.' Sadly, enough time had passed that Danny no longer trusted first and asked questions later.

Danny flew down to the dungeons, contemplating his various current situations. It was a sluggish mess that managed to pull itself in Danny's bed; his brain was utterly useless.

Hopefully the next few hours of sleep – not nightmares, just sleep – would give him some clarity.

He managed to keep his injury off, or under, the radar. This was amazing, considering how Harper kept shooting him suspicious looks and asking if he was really okay – and he still didn't know what to say. Plus, the Slytherin House was full of well diverted suspicion; most of which was diverted in his direction at all times, injury or not.

But now he was faced with an oddly annoying dilemma. Malfoy kept trying to talk to him, in furtive ways that made it seem like he didn't want to be seen talking to the mudblood, which just made Danny laugh and laugh. So he couldn't ignore him like he used to. Danny really hated that Sam brought up the idea, even though it was a perfectly good one. But he had told her that if he tried to suck up to the slime ball now, it would seem too obvious. Luckily, he hadn't seen Malfoy since early this morning. Amen for small favors.

While Danny was concentrating very hard on this problem, he stumbled across another. Literally. In the middle of the hallway.

"Ow," Danny mumbled into the stone floor. Despite his – hah – magical healing abilities, he was still sore from getting his butt handed to him the day before.

"Oh sorry – Danny!"

Hermione sounded surprised and worried and distracted. Not that this was something new or anything.

He took her offering of a hand up, and stumbled to his feet. "Sorry Hermione. I wasn't paying attention."

Hermione shot him a wide-eyed expression of concern. "Where on earth were you yesterday? You had everyone worried sick!"

Danny grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Everyone?"

Hermione managed a strained smile. "Alright, mostly me and your friends," she clenched her fist. "But we're the ones who matter anyway. Now where were you?"

"It wasn't anything horrible – I just had to go to a bank; a muggle bank, before you ask. Just something I needed to transfer from my parents' account." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

The girl nearly melted with relief. "That's all?"

"I'm sorry I didn't get chance to tell anyone," Danny said, while panicking unhappily in the back of his brain. "But it was sort of sudden."

Her eyes were downcast. "I had thought something horrible had happened. I'm just so used to my friends, people I know…well," she paused and shuddered. "Times are very strange and fearful for most of us. I was just worried about you."

For a moment, he was strongly reminded of last night, with the other Slytherins. Then, Danny smiled goofily. As a teenage boy, it was nice to hear a girl say that. Sam was included in that, but it was different coming from Hermione – she hadn't known him for very long.

"Well, thanks, I'm sorry I worried you."

Hermione smiled and prepared to go on her way, before she stopped and looked at him thoughtfully.

"What?" Danny asked, confused by her sudden staring – and a little unnerved.

"Nothing," she said at last. "Did you happen to, ah, say anything to Harry yesterday? He seems a little put off."

Oh, that was the other thing that had been bothering him. "Oh, uh, yeah, I might have."

Apparently, Hermione was expecting this answer. "It's alright, I'm very sure it wasn't by intention that you made him upset."

Privately, Danny thought she sounded like someone he knew – Jazz forcefully came to mind. So Hermione was to Harry Potter like Jazz was to him. Disturbing.

"Yeah, well, Malfoy asked if we knew each other, and I said 'no' kinda, uh, forcefully. I didn't mean it like I hated him or anything; I was just trying to explain that I just didn't know him that well."

Hermione blinked. "Well, that explains a lot. You know, I should really have the two of you sit down and talk – apparently, he only seems to get the wrong end of whatever you say."

Danny's eyes went half-mast. "I get that a lot."

Her expression spoke volumes. "It's really – I mean – he's been going through some really hard things lately. A lot of things." She actually chuckled a little. "At least I know you weren't being nasty on purpose. Honestly, he puzzled me as well. I thought that you two didn't know each other."

"We don't," Danny said firmly. "Not that I wouldn't mind being friends or anything. I wouldn't – I mean, you like him."

Hermione smiled winningly. "I'm glad you have such faith in my judgment of character."

Danny grinned back. "Well, you have a lot of faith in mine."

Hermione began walking with him into the Great Hall. Lunch had been imminent for quite some time now. "I am a friend of yours, am I not? Therefore, it would only make sense if I had good faith in your choices."

Danny actually laughed and pushed open the doors. "It's too bad we have to sit at our House tables. Otherwise, I'd just join Tuck or Sam – or you – for lunch." The loud noises of chatter battered his ear drums, and absently, he looked for Harper and the others.

"You know, there's never been a rule which explicitly states that you must. I believe it's mostly the houses that separate themselves naturally."

Danny spotted Tucker and waved to him to come over. "Then do you mind if a few of us join you for lunch?"

Hermione stared at him and then smiled brilliantly. "Of course! I – I mean, of course I don't mind!" The girl looked like Christmas had come early. "Let me go make room."

She rushed off in a flurry of brown hair, and Danny turned his attention to Tucker, who had arrived looking confused.

"You're late to lunch – how're you feeling?"

"Much, much better. That salve worked wonders. Do you want to sit at Gryffindor's table today?"

Tucker just shrugged, but he looked extremely pleased. "As long as it doesn't get us in trouble, I'm good for it."

Bartholomew Harper's head came into view, and Danny waved half-heartedly. His mind was still revolving around their last few words together. "Just asked Hermione – she said there had never been a rule against it," he affirmed.

The dark grey-haired boy in Slytherin robes nearly zoomed over to Danny. "What's going on?" he asked, giving Danny a significant Look.

Tucker answered, oblivious, but thankfully in a helpful way. "Danny's going to be randomly rebellious and sit at the Gryffindor table. You in?"

Bartholomew suddenly looked as if he had swallowed a lemon. "You're joking."

"Not really," Danny said, still smiling a half-smile. "There's no rule that says we can't. I just thought it'd be a nice change, not having Malfoy hovering nearby."

At the mention of the absence of Malfoy, the boy brightened considerably, although his anxious glances towards the Slytherin table didn't go unnoticed. "Are you sure about this?"

Danny nearly threw his arms up in frustration. "What's the big deal? I'm just sitting with my friends! All of them, preferably. Come on," he pointed towards the empty space being made by Hermione's shooing motions.

He spotted Ron Weasley easily, and the boy sort of just glared obstinately. Danny just gave a mental shrug and grinned at everyone before sitting down. Bartholomew on his right, Tucker and Hermione on his left, respectively; Sam ran and sat down opposite him, her face one big grin. Bast, her small black kitten was, for once, with her, perched daintily on her shoulder while looking as imperious as any cat usually did.

Danny blinked. Sam made a quick 'peace' sign and nodded to the other people down the table.

He followed her nod and gave pause.

He hadn't really noticed the complete and utter shock at his (and Bartholomew's) presence.

In typical Danny Fenton fashion, however, he completely ignored them. Sam was starting really be a good influence on his 'not-caring-what-other-people-think' reflex.

"I told you this was a bad idea," Bartholomew said nervously. "Let's just slowly walk away…."

"You were the one brave enough to try out for the seeker position despite Malfoy's influence," Danny muttered sotto voice. "Why are you chickening out now?"

Tucker had started some conversation with Sam about classes, and Danny overheard something interesting. "…So I'll be able to listen to my music now. If you give me your flash drive, I could wrangle something."

Danny looked back at Bartholomew, and his worried expression. "Look, just play it cool, and if anyone gives you trouble…."

Bartholomew interrupted, wary, "Tell them to bugger off?"

"Well, there's that," Danny agreed. "But you could just wait for the right moment and sic Hermione on them."

A truly evil smile lit Bartholomew's face and he finally started to eat, his worries dissipating for now. Danny noticed that the boy looked several times worse than he had a few days previous. Daphne had mentioned that Bartholomew had even arranged to go to the infirmary for the coming weekend. Something about it didn't sit well with Danny, but he didn't have the attention span to worry about it; he only hoped that Bartholomew wasn't hiding anything that could lead to something much worse.

"What's this about flash drives?" Danny asked Tucker instead, acutely aware of the leaning of heads in the direction of their not-so-quiet conversation. He also noticed that even Harry Potter had paused in eating his lunch, a quiet, albeit mulish expression on his face.

"I know Dumbledore said that magic didn't work together with our technology," Tucker launched into his explanations with enthusiastic fervor. "But I noticed that the ghost energy that my PDA integrated with makes it run, uh, forever. I mean it," he said, noticing Sam's incredulous look. "I haven't had to charge it since we got it back – I mean, since I found it after the last ghost attack."

Danny looked impressed. They had last met up with Skulker several months ago. "Nice."

"So when I plugged it into my laptop," Tucker was on a roll now. Danny could tell by the eerie, but somewhat familiar, light in his eyes. "Somehow the energy transferred. I'm still working on the how and the why – but I know one thing for sure." He beamed. "My baby is working!"

Sam shook her head. "Your obsession is downright creepy."

"This coming from the Goth chick," Tucker looked haughty.

It was amazing how well those two had assimilated. Danny absolutely reveled in how normal this all was in comparison to last night, when he was wading through his own blood.

Okay, that was an exaggeration. But it certainly was nice to have his friends maintain some sort of normalcy. If you could call being a wizard, a half-ghost, and miles from any sort of home normal.

Daphne and Mafalda joined the table a few minutes later. Mafalda kept shooting looks of wary discomfort down the table – but Danny couldn't tell exactly who she was looking at.

It was about this time that things took a turn.

Sam was discussing something very interesting with a girl named Lavender, Danny thought possibly animal rights, when he spasmed with a sudden chill that felt eerily like his ghost sense, but somehow wasn't. The spoon he was holding fell from his fingertips with a loud clang.

The wide-eyed look on his face probably gave away his surprise. "Danny?" asked Sam, who had been paying attention, though he hadn't noticed. "Are you okay?"

This was typical Sam behavior – masking an out for him by using concern. It was a good tactic, even if the concern was real.

"I'm f-fine," Danny stuttered, ushering more worry onto Sam's face than was necessary. "Just got c-c-cold all of a sudden." He subtly made to gather his things.

"It feels fine to me," Harper murmured, chewing while he spoke. "No ghost just passed by, did it?" he asked Mafalda, who shook her head in a negative way.

Danny would be damned if worry and concern weren't contagious. "I'm fine, s-seriously." He shuddered violently again and rubbed his arms for warmth. Unfortunately, he felt cold radiating from the inside out, so maybe the rubbing arm trick wouldn't work this time.

Sam and Tucker's eyes were on him. Unfortunately, the gazes of everyone who was sitting within a few feet of him were also fixated. Danny decided, wisely, that now might be a good time to leave.

He started to gather his things. "B-but maybe I s-sh-should put on s-something warmer."

"Maybe you should visit Madame Pomfrey," came the small, unexpected voice of …oh, darn. Danny wracked his brain in order to remember it. Kind of a round face…good with plants…ah ha!

"N-no," he told Neville Longbottom with a somewhat shaky grin. "I hate going to the n-nurse's office. But th-thanks."

A quick grin thrown over his shoulder, and Danny hurried out of the Great Hall at abnormally fast speeds.

What the heck was up? Seriously! He knew he wasn't sick, or coughing and/or sneezing – heck, even a strong headache – would have alerted him earlier. Plus, this really did feel a lot like his ghost sense, even though he knew all the ghosts in the school by their ecto-signature already. And any new ghosts would have shown up to gloat by now.

He shivered and clutched his robes closer together. Sincerely, Danny hoped this wasn't some sort of new freaky thing related to his powers. This wasn't exactly a good time for him.

"Fenton! Wait up!"

His whole body kind of twitched to a stop. Currently, his brain was wracking itself for an answer as to why that voice sounded familiar. "W-what is it?" he asked, not bothering to hide his current crankiness.

"No need to get your knickers in twist," Vaisey (ah, that's why he sounded familiar) came up and took a few deep breaths. "You know you're pretty fast on the ground too."

"Huh, n-never n-noticed."

Vaisey slapped his hand into his fist and beamed. "Sorry to bother, but I had to tell you this in person. You kind of ran out of the Great Hall before I could snag you. But it's good news, I suppose."

Danny felt the heavy foreboding presence of Murphy surround him, and he gulped. "What's the n-news?"

"Malfoy's out of commission."

There was a moment's pause. "H-how? Is he sick?" His voice didn't contain any glee whatsoever – nope. Ixnay on the happiness. Oh who was he kidding – this was awesome!

Vaisey shrugged. "There was some sort of confusion last night, and Malfoy stepped into the wrong hallway. Apparently it had been rigged to catch some Gryffindors, but…well." The boy grinned widely. "The end result is the same either way."

Danny tilted his head to the side for a moment. "Well, I c-can see why you're h-h-happy." Huh, that might be why he wasn't at breakfast or lunch today. "B-but why are you t-telling me?"

Vaisey shook his head. "Well, I suppose without Malfoy, we're short a Seeker for tomorrow's game." He raised his eyebrows. "And since you're our reserve Seeker, I suppose that means you're in for tomorrow aren't you?"

Honestly, after Prof. Umbridge declared that all student organizations were to be canceled, Danny had focused more on the DA than anything else. He supposed he should have remembered Quidditch, considering he was technically on the team.

Danny's heart froze, right along with the rest of him. "B-buh. But I'm n-not!" He stuttered and ran a hand through his hair. "I haven't even p-practiced with the whole t-team yet – how can I p-play?"

Vaisey put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, I hate to be the bearer of terrible news, but you're going to have to find a way. Otherwise I think our Beaters might, er, beat you instead." He straightened, surprisingly much taller than Danny had remembered. "Also, Montague is still in with Madame Pomfrey, so he doesn't have to know right away."

Danny felt the tendrils of terror wrap around his ankles, threatening to pull him under. "M-Malfoy's really in that b-bad shape?" he asked, knowing that Malfoy occasionally milked his injuries for all they were worth.

"Let's just say they're still looking for him."

Danny gaped. "Wait – what?"

Vaisey looked like he might start whistling innocently if given the proper motivation. "When I said 'hole' I meant it literally." He waved a book in Danny's face. "Anyway, take a look at this, learn the rules, and let me know if you've got any questions. I'll be around if you need help." He looked at the book thoughtfully. "Also, talk to Harper. He's a fanatic about the sport; there's no way you could go wrong by asking him questions too."

Glumly, Danny took the book from Vaisey's grip and stared blankly off into the empty hallway. He shivered again and nearly dropped the blasted thing.

Vaisey couldn't miss this. "You sick?" he asked, his voice much more serious. "Because you should tell me right now if you are."

"It's-s not – I mean, I'm n-not s-s-sick." Danny folded his arms over his chest, gripping the book in his right hand. "J-just cold."

His only companionable room mate stared at him, and squinted his eyes. "…Alright." Vaisey rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Tell me if anything changes." Turning, he started making his way back to the Great Hall. "Oh! And you'll be using Malfoy's broom – it's the only good replacement we've got. And, heh, he's not going to notice."

With that uplifting statement, Vaisey ran off. Danny felt like his world was doing cartwheels around his head. He refrained from punching something and marched off to the dungeons to get some sweaters. Yes, that was a plural.

This, Danny thought mulishly as he shivered himself into the coldest part of the castle, really bites.

Jazz had hoped it wouldn't have come to this.

A few quick keystrokes and she had unlocked all of Danny's files on his regular, and irregular, ghostly nemeses. There were too many that fell under the 'only Danny can fix this' pile, which she had been keeping track of in her head, but there were some she could probably handle by herself.

Ugh, she thought glumly, wishing that someone else was doing this besides Valerie Gray. The girl was good – no doubt about it, but she was still working for Vlad, which automatically put her in the ambivalently bad category of people to join forces with. Plus, Valerie didn't like Danny.

Jazz had issues with people who didn't like Danny. Liking only half of him didn't count. Which was why her parents often drove her crazy.

But enough about that.

"Mom? Do you have a spare Thermos?" she called as she ran upstairs from the lab.

There was a loud leaky explosion, which sounded more muffled than sharp. Jazz assumed there was ecto-gooey stuff involved. "Mom?" she asked, this time with a distinctly doomed inflection.

"Hey sweetie," Maddie said, voice mildly irritated. "Your father set off one of the Ecto-Alarms. No need to fret."

"Aw, but Maddie!" Jack's voice rang out from the living room, despite the thick coating of green, slowing slime. "I just wanted to test it!"

Jazz sighed. In a loving manner. "I was just wondering what…" she paused. "What…you were doing?" She had spotted one Fenton Thermos just lying on the table. The light was off, so it was 'unoccupied.' She quickly took it while Maddie and Jack oozed out of their predicament.

"We're sending Remus Lupin the parts necessary to build a ghost portal," Maddie finally explained. "I already sent the blueprints over a while back, but they don't have anything resembling the required parts." Absently, the woman cleaned her goggles with an overused paper towel.

"Wait – you're sending them a ghost portal? Are you serious?" Jazz asked, eyes wide.

"Well yes dear," Maddie replied with a grin. "I trust Remus, and I know Danny is fond of him. I highly doubt anything terrible will come of this. Besides, we still owe him a great deal; finding out Danny was a wizard, of all things." She gently moved Jack, who was protesting the idea of cleaning up the mess, into the kitchen, and turned back to Jazz. "The inclusion of magic into our research as well – we've made such significant progress! Our benefactors have nearly doubled their grants in response."

Ah yes. The grants. Jazz knew it was their only source of income, at the moment; and that lately – what with Dalv Industries (yet another reason she heavily disliked Vlad Masters), Axiom Labs, and whatever company the Guys in White used to supply their anti-ghost weaponry – these grants had been coming less and less. This changed very recently, when both Maddie and Jack had figured out alternative ways to power their weapons with less expensive and more efficient forms of energy. Now the fund money was practically rolling in, allowing her parents more creative freedom. As well as allowing them to eat real food – not the horrible, horrible things that her mom or dad managed to create.

So, despite the fact that their success was really excellent news, Jazz's right eye twitched violently. Wizards, plus the Color-by-Numbers Guide to Building Your Very Own Ghost Portal? This was bad news in the making. In her head, Jazz felt a cog come loose and fall to the base of her skull, rolling in circles lazily like a coin. "But, what if they mess it up and something explodes! We know what happens when you forget to clean the ecto-filter," Jazz said, just on this side of hysterical.

"Hon, relax," Maddie stressed, putting hand on her daughter's shoulder. "We've included very simple instructions. They should be able to figure it out, no problem."

Jazz remembered Remus Lupin and the Dishwasher Debacle, and shuddered. It did not bode well in regards to their response to anything of a higher technology than a toaster.

Plus, what was Danny going to do? The attacks on Amity Park had lessened while he had been gone – probably for nefarious reasons perpetuated by Vlad Masters; the last one she'd seen out in public had been Wulf: and he was one of the good ones. Still, Jazz couldn't help but imagine would it would be like if the ghosts of the ghost zone figured out where Danny was and went after him there. The idea made her grimace.

"Jazz, honey? Are you alright?"

"Fine," she squeaked out and edged backwards. "Just fine. Um. I'm gonna go write a letter to Danny. You want to add something?"

Maddie beamed. Jazz swore she saw tears. "Oh of course! Jack!" she called. "Can you get the Ecto-Stimulator? I want to send a sample to Danny."

"Right away!" came the distant echo of Jack's voice. He had escaped the cleaning, and Maddie – realizing this – sighed.

"Go on," she waved her hand in Jazz's direction. "Let me know when you're done, and we'll add our bit."

Jazz gladly took the out, and escaped to her room, where she inevitably got caught online by Valerie Gray.

She had thought it might be wiser to keep tabs on Valerie, just in case. They had actually become pretty good acquaintances. The girl wasn't all bad. Just…hurt. And still hurting. Nothing evil about that.

Grey_Skies: I still can't believe he's in England. Or was it Scotland?

FreudWasWrong: Yup. Trust me, I barely believe it myself. And he's in Scotland. Might as well be Timbuktu for my parents.

Grey_Skies: I think Dash might be missing his favorite punching bag.

FreudWasWrong: Poor baby.

FreudWasWrong: Do you think Danny'd be surprised to hear that everyone at school actually misses his presence? If only to start teasing him again….

Grey_Skies: Definitely. Danny has self-esteem issues.

Grey_Skies: Not that I'd know much about his issues or anything. Just saying.

Jazz simply grinned.

Grey_Skies: I miss all three of them a lot. Sam and Tuck aren't exactly my friends, but they're good people.

FreudWasWrong: Plus, Sam's sarcasm is like, a rare gem.

Grey_Skies: Been on the receiving end of it. I know, trust me.

TechTuck has signed on.

Request Invite: TechTuck wishes to join.

She choked and tried to compose herself. Was that really Tucker?

Only one way to find out….

Request Accepted.

TechTuck: Yes! It worked!

Grey_Skies: Tucker Foley?

TechTuck: Who wants to know?

FreudWasWrong: Tuck, was there something you wanted? …Or are you drinking Jolt Cola again? Don't you remember the last time you did that?

TechTuck: All I remember was the insane amount of fun me and Danny had with your doll collection. I think I still have pictures.

TechTuck: And who's Grey anyway?

Grey_Skies: That would be Valerie Gray to you, Foley.

Jazz took note of the long pause and didn't even bother to smother her laughter.

FreudWasWrong: Well that's not awkward.

TechTuck: Nice to finally learn your SN Val! I'll just add you cuz I can. And I kinda am barging in here – but I just wanted to see if my internet connection worked.

FreudWasWrong: You're having issues over there?

Grey_Skies: Well, for Tucker, I suppose whatever those issues are, they're not a big deal, right?

Aw, Val was so cute when she was awkwardly apologizing via a compliment.

TechTuck: Thanks…I, uh, am kind of hacking here. The nearest wireless is ages away, so I had to get creative.

FreudWasWrong: Don't tell me! Remember the whole plausible deniability clause that we've established Tuck.

Grey_Skies: So, what's Scotland like? What classes are you taking?

TechTuck: It's cool. Like wet, and rainy cool. But it's…nice-looking I guess.

TechTuck: And I'm taking, like, the same classes we took at Casper; just taught better, I think.

Grey_Skies: Unfair. I want a random scholarship to study at a better school.

TechTuck: No doubt you'll get one.

FreudWasWrong: Of course you'll get one Val. You've been working your butt off lately.

Grey_Skies: Not much of a choice, really. But thanks. You too Tucker.

TechTuck: Sadly, I gotta run. Danny's followers are trying to look over my shoulder and that might get weird.

Grey_Skies: Danny has followers? What now?

TechTuck: Don't ask. It's a long story.

FreudWasWrong: Tell Danny I'm sending a letter! Mom and Dad got something they wanna test, so they're letting him have a sample. Tell him also, that I have no idea what it is, so be prepared.

Grey_Skies: Wow. You guys don't even have email?

TechTuck: It's a dark, dark world out here Val. Like, Dark Ages dark.

TechTuck: And I'll tell him Jazz. Hopefully he'll be able to get online too – we've only got one laptop between us, so…yeah.

TechTuck: Seeya both later!

FreudWasWrong: ttyl Tuck.

TechTuck has left the conversation. TechTuck signed off.

It wasn't long after that that Jazz declared she had serious papers to finish – to which Valerie heartily agreed – and they both went their separate ways.

Jazz took out the parchment she had bought from a stationary store, and set up her ink and quill neatly on her desk. Sue her if she wanted to get into the spirit of the wizarding world. If she couldn't learn magic, then she was determined to learn their customs. It was Jazz's way.

Hopefully Danny's doing alright over there, she thought as she started to write. It's a bit…lonely at home without him. She paused in her writing and smirked. Besides, he's the only one who's any good in the kitchen besides me – and I'm not that good.

Darkness hit the sky before she was done.

Notes:

(1): Latin for 'Absolute Dominion.'