A Vent Comes to Haunt

by Miriam1

This fiction is inspired directly from You're-not-so-big's two-shot crossover of Danny Phantom and Harry Potter in her fic entitled "A Vent for ADD." It is dark, it is scary, and it looks like Danny's worst nightmare.

40. Christmas and New Years

I want to give everyone holiday greetings and wish everyone a happy 2010. I give you alcohol-free eggnog, apple cider, hot cocoa, and a plate of cookies to share.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing, and adding this story (and me) to your favorite and alert lists.

Luiz4200 helpfully pointed out that Professor Snape did not, in fact, invent Wolfsbane Potion. It was actually invented by Damocles Belby. Thank you for pointing it out, and my mistake has been duly corrected.

For portions of this chapter, I borrowed heavily, but changed significantly, from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter 16: A Very Frosty Christmas. I hope you like the way I tweaked it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom, Harry Potter, the Magna Carta, Pride and Prejudice, "Carol of the Bells," Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, or Life, the Universe, and Everything.

Chapter 40

---

It was an odd few days, Harry decided. The controlled chaos of the Weasley household was muted, as no one wanted to upset Professor Snape. Harry grinned. He was with the family that always made him feel at home and Professor Snape, who, after years of emotional abuse, decided to make him family. The Weasleys were light-hearted and informal, never standing on ceremony. Professor Snape was always formal, and insisted on decorum. Their very lifestyles, regardless of personal attitudes, clashed worse than Ron's hair and his cherished Chudley Cannons posters.

Peeling sprouts for Mrs. Weasley by the Burrow's kitchen sink, Ron told Harry, "Let me get this straight. Remus apologized to you?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. It was weird, because while I always wondered, I never thought how bad it was that Remus never connected with me until Professor Snape expressed precisely how Remus practically abandoned me." Harry peeled for a few minutes in silence.

"But he's still your friend, right?" It would turn Ron's world too much on its head if Harry started being friendly with Snape and antagonistic to Remus Lupin.

"Not to worry, Ron. For a while now, I've seen that Professor Snape has a method to his madness, so to speak. Besides making Remus feel really guilty for his failings, Professor Snape practically guaranteed that Remus will spend more time and energy communicating with me." Conspiratorially, Harry almost winked as he said, "And once he's used to expressing affection he's had for a long time but was too afraid to show, he might finally figure out how to let Tonks know the feelings he has for her."

Before Ron could say something nice about the idea of Remus and Tonks together, he was interrupted by a mocking, "You mean someone clueless will figure out how to express himself to a girl he likes?" Fred grinned. "But Harry, it sounds like you were referring to someone other than Ronnikins, here."

"Hey!" Ron yelped indignantly.

"Ah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them."

"I'll be seventeen in two and a bit month's time," Ron grumped, "and then I'll be able to do it by magic!"

"But meanwhile," said George, sitting down and putting his feet up on the kitchen table, "we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a – whoops-a-daisy!"

Ron shouted, "You made me do that!" Sucking his cut thumb, he glared at George. "You wait, when I'm seventeen…"

"I'm sure you'll dazzle us all with your hitherto unsuspected magical skills," yawned Fred.

"And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald," called George, "What is this we hear from Ginny about you and Hermione?"

Ron looked up proudly. "We're officially going together."

Fred and George shared a glance, both with eyebrows raised. Fred said, "Interesting. But what we wanted to know was… how did it happen?"

Ron stopped a moment. To this day, he never figured out what happened. One minute, he was fuming at miscreant Slytherins and playing chess with Harry to settle his mind and plot, and the next, Hermione was hugging him and telling him she loved him, too. Apparently, at some point during his blanked out period, he must have told Hermione that he loved her. It was the truth, but he didn't feel courageous enough to tell her. But the twins, in all their teasing, didn't need to know that.

"Mind your own business."

George continued to bait him. "Really, Ron. She's the cleverest witch in the school. What would cause such a misjudgment on her part? Did something hit her head?"

Mrs. Weasley and Professor Snape entered the room just in time to see Ron throw the sprout knife at George, who had turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of his wand.

"Ron!" She said furiously. "Don't you ever throw knives again!"

"I won't," muttered Ron, glaring daggers at the twins who wore beatific expressions of innocence.

Professor Snape crossed his arms and glared at all four teenagers. "Mrs. Weasley, things are not as they appear to be."

She looked at him. "What do you mean, Professor?"

The professor smiled a dangerous smile that had all four teenagers wincing. "You see, having been bullied myself as a child, and having misjudged a certain young man for far too long, I've developed a monitoring charm of sorts. It lets me know if anything untoward is going on in my ward's presence." Harry wasn't sure whether he should be pleased by Snape's care and caution or insulted by the idea that his guardian didn't trust him enough to take care of himself.

"Considering that Harry was neither the target nor the thrower of the knife, and the twins are wearing expressions identical to two others who were distinctly not innocent after a prank was perpetrated, it is clear that Harry was not the one harassed, but Ron might have something to say."

This clever trick was clearly beyond the comprehension of the boys in the kitchen. The twins were stung as they were caught. Ron looked relieved at the fact that he would be given a chance to defend himself, though weirded out that SNAPE, of all people, was giving it to him, and Harry was extremely grateful that he was not foolish enough to be a guilty party, here.

Ron was lost, as he tried to decide what his options were. If he told on his brothers, they might never forgive him. But with Professor Snape staring them all down, honesty might be the best policy. "Fred and George were giving us grief for not being allowed to use magic, and then they started in on me because of Hermione."

Mrs. Weasley looked very disappointed. "Is this true, Fred?"

Between Snape standing there and his mother's hurt expression, there was no choice but to tell the truth. "Yes, Mum."

George tried to save the situation by saying, "But we didn't…"

Mrs. Weasley rounded on him. "But what? You would have let Ron take the blame if the good professor hadn't alerted me to trouble in the kitchen."

George deflated. "Yes, Mum."

Professor Snape smiled. "If I might make a suggestion…?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Of course."

"Set Ron and George to finish peeling the sprouts, after having confiscated his wand. He seems to have forgotten what life was like before he reached the age of majority. Harry and Fred can take care of the dining room arrangements once you've figured out how many people are dining here tonight."

Mrs. Weasley glowed. "So reasonable! And, of course, without magic." She opened her hands, and the twins relinquished their wands. "You will get them back after dinner, as long as you don't harass Ron, Ginny, or Harry about being under age."

The twins paled, and chorused, "Yes, Mum."

Ron decided that Professor Snape might be more kind than the git he always knew him to be, and gave the professor a grateful smile, especially when he turned the paper airplane back into the knife he was using. That is, until Ron realized that he was still stuck peeling sprouts without the use of magic. Well… at least George was stuck helping, too.

Fred and Harry were left to set chairs around the dining room table, preparing for Christmas Eve dinner. After he fetched the plates and flatware, Fred confided, "It's almost unnatural, not being able to tease ickle Ronnikins at school or at home… It's been a while, but at school, there was always the Common Room. But with the good professor here, we almost have to behave ourselves. I mean, he can't take points from us anymore, but…" Fred shivered.

Harry said, "Good behavior is a small price to pay for having someone as close to a father as I've ever known."

Fred nodded soberly. "Right you are, Harry. I didn't think of it quite like that." They finished arranging the chairs and setting the table in contemplative quiet.

---

The Hogwarts ghosts approached the Ghostwriter's mansion, which was decorated with the image of a fork on one side and a knife on the other to indicate where the party was being held. Sir Nicholas led the way, saying, "The Ghost Zone presents us with a bizarre anomaly. We can't touch physical things, but the same ectoplasm that allows us to touch each other and Danny makes buildings and things solid to us, too."

The Friar said, "But Sir Nicholas, how do you know of this? It isn't anywhere near our outlets in Kent, or London, or…"

"My dear Friar, I'm not a Gryffindor for nothing, you know. I've explored the Ghost Zone during the many summer holidays. Visiting friends from our own plane of existence is always useful, but I know where they are. Over 400 years ago, I started exploring the more local parts of the Ghost Zone. But where we are now, closer to Danny and Vlad's home, there are lots of physically tangible ghosts. I thought it was worth mentioning the anomaly because gliding through walls and doors won't work here." Sir Nicholas tapped his chin. "I wonder whether we will find the food tangible…"

The Baron shrugged. "There is only one way for us to find out. Shall we?"

Sir Nicholas opened the door, and the music and lights were bright. Myrtle grasped the Grey Lady's hand. "This is nothing like your Death Day party, Sir Nicholas!"

The mention of a noble title drew the attention of many. The ghosts of black, green, blue, sepia, ashen, white, and metal exchanged curious glances with the translucent, pearly, and otherwise faint of color. Skulker, the de facto leader, spoke first. "I don't believe we've seen you here before."

Sir Nicholas nodded carefully. "You must be younger than four centuries, then. I have explored this part of the Ghost Zone, but it has been quite a while since I spent any time here."

Skulker eyed the newcomers distrustfully. "And you are…?"

Professor Binns answered, "We are from Danny Phantom's current school, Hogwarts. I am Professor Cuthbert Binns, teacher of history. The four House Ghosts, primarily but not only available to their House for advice, direction, and guidance, are Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington of Gryffindor." Sir Nicholas bowed carefully, not tipping his head. "The Grey Lady of Ravenclaw." She curtseyed deeply. "The Bloody Baron of Slytherin." The Baron tilted his head stiffly. "And the Fat Friar of Hufflepuff." The Friar waved cheerfully. "And the girl is Myrtle Duncan, ward of the Grey Lady and friend of Danny." Myrtle waved shyly. "And if you would kindly return the favor of introduction…"

The Ghost Zone ghosts stared at each other for a moment. How did they respond to this, and how did they figure out an order? Skulker took the lead. "I am Skulker, the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter."

Professor Binns nodded. "Then you are the one I have to thank, as you taught Danny enough about Pariah Dark, giving me a point of connection to the familiar." Skulker's electronic eyebrows shot up.

"I am Technus, the Master of All Things Electronic and Beeping."

Sir Nicholas said, "Then you must be the one responsible for the exquisite lighting. Danny wasn't sure what to make of the news of the blue, sputtering tapers that lit the ballroom to illuminate my 500th Death Day party. He was dazzled by your display at his brief attendance of last year's Christmas party."

Technus scratched his head. "The Ghost Child mentioned me? I think I'm honored, but why would he do that?"

The Baron glared. "Most of you fill the role of young Phantom's antagonists, but you are also among the familiar."

There were too many ghosts to keep with the formal introduction, so the curious ghosts started to mingle. The Lunch Lady, Spectra, and Bertrand approached the Grey Lady. "Who takes care of the school menus?"

Lady Helena smiled. "House-elves have managed. They take the dietary needs of the living quite seriously. They are also attentive to individual desires. It isn't uncommon for a professor to order up tea, and the elves will send tea and a selection of pastries to complement it. If a student's home-life isn't what it should be, they add nutritive potions to the student's plates. It is complicated, but it is a magical system." The Lunch Lady nodded uncertainly, and wondered what a house-elf was.

Spectra looked at the Grey Lady critically. "How do you keep your youthful appearance? Your clothes tell me you are much older than you look." Bertrand laughed sycophantically.

Lady Helena glared coldly. "Death will cut your youth short. I've been 21 since before the Battle of Hastings, when my unwanted suitor decided that if I wasn't to be his bride, I would marry no one." Spectra shuddered. The Lady was much older than she appeared to be.

Bertrand asked, "What happened to your suitor?"

The Lady haughtily sniffed. "He killed himself in remorse. He wears the stains of his blood and chains of humiliation as a penance." Her tone softened. "He serves as a House Ghost honorably. The Baron keeps order – wayward ghosts (and students) mind him. He's the only one who can control Peeves the Poltergeist. That is, besides Danny and Plasmius, of course."

Walker decided to broach the Baron's forbidding presence. "While the Truce prevents me from doing anything about it, how do you manage the boy's law-breaking ways?"

The Baron rattled a chain menacingly in ire. "Young Danny follows the rules to the best of his abilities, except where being a ghost earns him special privileges, such as wandering the grounds after hours. As a matter of fact, he helps enforce the rules when necessary."

The Box Ghost drifted over, and the Baron took notice and offense. "I employed Danny's services to stop that knave. Terrorizing the elves, wasting countless Galleons worth of food, for what purpose? To serve his own box fetish and display his power in the face of intangible ghosts? You have this rogue before you, yet you declare Danny to be lawless?"

The Box Ghost decided his company would be welcome elsewhere. Walker began to feel uneasy, but he was not easily cowed. "The Box Ghost's guilt or innocence doesn't mitigate or change Phantom's innocence or guilt."

The Baron said, "I see. And what, pray tell, are young Phantom's crimes?"

"First of all, he brought Real World items into the Ghost Zone. That's against the Rules."

Flushing silvery opaque in anger, the Baron crossed his arms. "You realize that your ridiculous rule has precluded the teenage ghost from giving gifts to his ghostly friends, do you not?"

Walker blushed red. "He escaped from my prison. That's against the Rules."

The Baron narrowed his eyes. "Escape from wrongful imprisonment… is against the rules, is it? If you abided by your own rules, you should have earned yourself a lengthy stay behind the bars of your own prison. Or is pointing out the obvious also against your capricious rules?"

That left the sheriff speechless. "Let that be a lesson to you. Happy Christmas." With that, the Bloody Baron went off in search of a more worthy companion.

Sydney Poindexter was not the most suave ghost out there, but he recognized an opportunity when he saw one. "You are Myrtle, right?"

Realizing that the ghost addressing her was much more polite than Peeves ever was, she said, "That's right. Who are you?"

Standing as tall as he could, he said, "I'm Sydney Poindexter. I went to Casper High. What was it like for you at Hogwarts?"

"When do you mean? When I was alive or as a ghost?"

Realizing it might be a touchy subject, he clarified gently, "When you were alive."

Myrtle shrugged. "It was okay, I guess. I really enjoyed Charms and Transfigurations. Potions was hard. I could never remember the plants in Herbology, but Astronomy was wonderful."

"It sounds swell!" He wasn't about to admit he had no idea what Transfigurations were.

Myrtle agreed. "For the most part, it was. But some of the students were mean. One girl who made me miserable was Olive Hornby. She made fun of my glasses."

"You were picked on by bullies?" Sydney asked pugnaciously. He looked ready to defend the honor of this young girl.

"Uh-huh. On the day that I died, I hid in the bathroom. I haunt that bathroom now."

Sydney sighed. "In the Real World, I… haunt locker 724, where I spent so much time, because bullies kept stuffing me in." Well, not since his mirror was broken, but somehow it didn't sound like something worth saying.

Myrtle looked offended. "No! That's horrible! As mean as the students in my school were, they never touched me. Sometimes they hid my things, but they were much meaner about name-calling." She looked over at Lady Helena, who was talking to Ember. "The Grey Lady told me not to think about what students say, and that I have worth even if the students don't see it."

Sydney followed her gaze. "The Grey Lady? Who is she?"

Myrtle beamed and clapped in joy. "The Grey Lady is my mentor, now. It was Danny's idea."

"Danny Phantom? The Halfa?"

"Well… yes. He's a hero."

Sydney frowned. "Maybe I misjudged him. Hey, would you like an egg cream?"

Myrtle thought about this. "I don't know. I haven't eaten anything in 54 years."

"Well… This is the Ghost Zone. It's worth a try, wouldn't you say?"

At that point, the Ghostwriter entered, and it would offend his sense of romanticism if he didn't take advantage of this opportunity. The music stopped for the dramatic effect he was going for. "And now I present to you Princess Dora, and two ghosts who need no introduction, Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius!" It wasn't the role of Master of Ceremonies the author craved, but how often does one announce royalty in the Ghost Zone?

Ember rolled her eyes, but the Hogwarts contingent applauded appreciatively.

Sir Nicholas chirped, "Well met, well met, your Highness. And Danny! I'm very glad you could make it. And, of course, welcome, Professor."

The Box Ghost scratched his head. "Dora, I know you helped us at the battle of Pariah Dark, but you've never come to the party before."

The princess smiled. "I did come once. Many centuries ago. I was glad to know it was still occurring."

Skulker peaked his eyebrows. "Plasmius… Professor? Since when?"

Vlad was nonplussed at Skulker and any number of other ghosts who were surprised and confused by his newly conferred title. "It is part of my business in Britain that I notified you of in July. I just didn't think my current job description was relevant."

Youngblood looked aghast at Johnny 13 and Kitty. "Aw, man! There are two teachers here. I thought this was Christmas break!"

Youngblood's parrot raised an eyebrow. "Any part of that comment would have made more sense if you actually went to school, you twit. And you don't think teachers deserve a vacation?"

"Oh. Right. I guess they do."

Danny smiled and waved at the crowd. "Uh, hi. Merry Christmas." He was given warm smiles and wary glances as greetings were exchanged. Raising his eyebrows, Danny decided he needed to ask someone about the weird general atmosphere later. Now, he had a job to do.

"Dora and Ghostwriter, these are my friends and a professor from my current school. This is Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, Lady Helena Ravenclaw, the Baron, the Friar, Professor Binns, and Myrtle. Friends, this is Princess Dorathea of Aragon, and the Ghostwriter, who I told you about."

Sir Nicholas asked, "Really? Are you any relation to King Ferdinand? He was the king of Aragon, in what is now Spain, round about my Death Day in 1492."

Dora blushed. "I don't think so. The kingdom is named for my brother, who ruled our section of the Ghost Zone with an iron claw for the past 1600 years, until Sir Phantom came to help rescue us from the Dark Ages."

"Danny!" Sir Nicholas and the Baron chorused. Sir Nicholas admonished, "Why have you hidden your title from us? And you live, yet!"

"I, um… Vlad, help!"

Vlad took a moment to relish Daniel's discomfort. He didn't know about said title until yesterday, himself. But more than that moment was overkill, and he came to rescue his ward. "Daniel has earned any number of titles because of his heroics. But he is quite the modest child, and doesn't wish to flaunt them. Further, Daniel does have a secret identity to keep. How much of a secret would his ghosthood remain if he claimed a noble title given to him by a ghost princess?"

The Baron blushed silver. "Yes, of course."

The Ghostwriter piped up. "Pardon me, but why did you point out that Danny is alive? We're glad for the fact, but…"

Sir Nicholas patted the Ghostwriter's shoulder. "Dear Ghostwriter, those of us who are mere spirits of the dead are formerly what we once were. In the … human realm, active titles only belong to the living. While I will forever be Sir Nicholas, I am only a former knight. Danny is alive, and therefore is a knight, as dubbed so by her Highness, Princess Dora."

"Understood."

Shortly after this, the Ghostwriter cornered the Fat Friar, and they spoke of poetry formats and conventions used in the Friar's time, and compared them with those more common in the Ghostwriter's time.

Johnny 13 came to Danny. "Hey, kid. I didn't know you've been pallin' around with royalty and nobility."

Danny shrugged. "Princess Dora is special that way. And… you never know who you'll meet when you go to school in a castle in Britain."

"How did you hook up with Plasmius? I mean… he could be bad news, and that has nothing to do with me or my shadow's luck."

Danny gave him a sidelong glance. "He's been my legal guardian since my family was killed. Didn't you notice my Dad's Portal's been shut down for months?"

"Yeah, kid. I noticed. I wanted to visit, even though your pretty sister's not around anymore, but Plasmius…" Johnny gulped. "Ordered that no ghost was to visit Amity Park without his say so. He said it was to give respect to the human survivors. He didn't tell us what they survived, but if your family was killed, then you must know." He almost looked hopeful, but not too hopeful – that wouldn't be cool.

"I know, alright. I don't want to talk about it."

Johnny raised his hands in submission. "Whatever you want, kid. It's alright." He paused for a moment. "Is it true that you're getting more powerful?"

Danny raised his eyebrows. Where was this coming from? "Yeah. Vlad's been training me, and like any workout, when you practice, you get stronger. I'm getting better at using the powers I've always had, and Vlad's helped me discover and use powers I didn't know I had."

Johnny whistled appreciatively. Danny put a hand on the back of his neck. "Johnny, when I first got here this year, the ghosts were acting… weirder than normal, besides those I met at school. What's going on?"

The rebel nervously sought out Plasmius with his eyes, checked to see if Kitty was okay, and looked back at Danny. "Yeah. Um… When Plasmius visited Skulker last month, I remember hearing about you, with the ability to take over, and…"

Danny waved his arms. "Wait, wait, wait. What are you talking about?"

Johnny found his toes fascinating. "Maybe I got it wrong, but I heard that when you get powerful enough, the Ghost Zone should call you 'Master,' and that has nothing to do with Plasmius's human name."

Danny scratched his head. "Johnny, I know it's been, like, what… five months since I've been away from Amity Park. I don't think I've changed that much. Since when have I wanted to take over anything? For as long as you've known me, all I wanted was to be left alone, and the ghosts to leave me, my family, my friends, and my town alone.

"Instead, the Lunch Lady went mental because of Sam's experiment with the school lunch menu. (I guess I should be thankful for part of that. I mean, turf-wiches? Ugh.) Desiree turned my best friend into a malevolent ghost. Skulker's been hunting me since who knows when. Technus has made all kinds of complications in my life. You tried to possess my sister, and Kitty spent time overshadowing a classmate. Walker put me in prison because I knocked my Dad's anniversary gift for my Mom into the Portal by accident, and then invaded my town, framing me for crimes I never committed. Spectra took emotional advantage of everyone in my school, and almost killed my sister. Ember almost fried everyone's brains and took over the world, and she and Youngblood kidnapped all the adults in town. Sydney mistook me for the bully Dash was and overshadowed me, and the Box Ghost is a general nuisance. And that says nothing about the Ghost King, Prince Aragon, who kidnapped Sam, and I'm still not sure what Hotep-Ra wanted with Tucker.

"At what point was I the aggressor here? When have I shown a desire to take over anything?"

Johnny looked up at Danny. "I never thought of it like that, kid."

Danny thought for a moment and sighed. "If I have it right, Vlad probably was dramatic about telling people to leave me alone. I'll probably be capable of serious damage… well, now, to tell you the truth. But if people aren't out to hurt me, or the humans or ghosts I hang out with, I have no reason to hurt anybody. (And Sir Nicholas told me to think twice about venting misplaced aggression on the Box Ghost, even when I think he deserves it.)"

"You know, you're alright, kid. Stay that way."

"I'll try, Johnny."

Sir Nicholas found Skulker. "I understand you are a skilled hunter, Skulker."

Skulker preened. "That I am."

"You know, years ago, I was a fair hand at it myself. Hunting was a privilege given by the royalty to the nobility and aristocracy. It was more sporting to hunt without using magic, as a well-placed Stunning Spell will immobilize any creature that is tangible. Well… When the game was to be captured and killed, that was the rule. But practicing aim with any number of spells was fair, only if the creature was released afterwards."

"A privilege given by royalty?"

"I lived in England in the 15th century. That was how such things worked." Sir Nicholas huffed in frustration. "Now, the only hunt theoretically available to me is the Headless Hunt, and Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore is fanatical about details. I tell you – half an inch of skin and sinew holds my head to my body, but that isn't quite headless enough for Sir Patrick."

Skulker had difficulty processing all the information Sir Nicholas gave him. "A Headless Hunt? How could that be? For over two years now, I've sought the Ghost Child's head for my trophy (although Plasmius has made it crystal clear that Danny's off-limits, now). Any ghost I know without a head ceases to function."

Sir Nicholas sighed. "I don't know why there is a difference between your kind of ghost and my kind of ghost. From what I can tell, you are all beings of tangible ectoplasm, unless you wish to be otherwise, whether you are spirits of the dead, like Sydney or Desiree, or you were simply formed that way, as I assume you were. I understand that dismemberment can be as damaging to you as if you were a living human."

Skulker nodded. That might not be true about the battle-suit, but his green being inside it needed to be protected from that very thing. Apparently, this ancient knight has had time to think through the theory of how ghosts work. Five centuries is an awful lot of time, even though there were certainly older ghosts. The Lady and Baron were older than that, and the Fright Knight and the Ghost King were even older than that.

The former knight continued, "But my kind of ghost is largely just a shade, a reflection of who we once were. For whatever reason (and each has his or her own), we have chosen not to go on to the next step of 'that great adventure,' as Headmaster Dumbledore is so fond of saying. Which reminds me… I must inquire about what ever became of the Flamels.

"In any event, ghosts of my sort bear the wounds we had that brought us to death. Mine was a botched execution. The executioner could have had the decency to have sharpened his axe, but no…"

This conversation was feeling increasingly surreal to Skulker. "May I ask why you were executed?"

Sir Nicholas blew out a breath. "It started out as a foiled attempt to straighten Lady Grieve's teeth with a spell. And then she decided to find religion. Quite convenient, that. Of course I was a wizard, graduate of Hogwarts, and earned quite a distinction at court for my creative means of Defense against invaders and whatnot. Didn't mind my magic then, did they? But when it came to needing a convenient reason for doing away with me, they suddenly remembered that witchcraft and wizardry was against the Bible. That allowed them to sidestep my right to a fair trial, as should have been granted to me as per the Magna Carta.

"So I was scheduled to be executed the next day for my offense to Lady Grieve. Honestly… The spell would have come out properly, but a gnat flew down my throat in the middle of my recitation. Instead, Lady Grieve sprouted a tusk. I could have fixed it, if given the chance, but her displeasure took greater priority," he finished bitterly.

Skulker stared in consternation. Sir Nicholas shook his head. "I imagine it was better that I was in England and not in Spain. Torquemada was one to beat the band. So, I was to be beheaded." He sighed. "I suppose I should have been thankful I wasn't tortured first. Well… the 45 whacks with a dull axe blade weren't intended to be torture. They couldn't find the stone to sharpen the blade, they said."

Skulker shuddered. "That… sounded painful, physically and emotionally."

"It was."

Skulker thought for a moment. "You are intangible to the human world, but you can touch ghosts, correct?"

Sir Nicholas sighed sadly. "Yes."

Musing to himself, Skulker muttered, "Well, the Truce might forbid… but if it was voluntary, it might not violate… but then again…"

"Skulker?"

"Here is the thing. Would it help if I broke through that half-inch of skin and sinew?"

Sir Nicholas jerked his head, and he had to grab it so it didn't flop down unbidden. "What's this?"

Skulker squared his shoulders. "I have a blade in this suit designed especially for decapitating ghosts." He stared longingly at Danny and sighed. "If ghostly things are tangible to you, perhaps I can help you join that Headless Hunt by severing that half-inch holding your head to your body."

Sir Nicholas stared at him. "Do you really think you can?"

"Yes; it should work. But then, there's the problem of violating the Truce…"

The former knight laughed. "Then you have nothing to fear. As long as it's consensual, I don't see the problem with it."

Skulker squirmed, which wasn't dignified, but there was no reaction quite as appropriate. "I suppose we should take this outdoors. The others might not understand."

"Quite right, quite right. Let's see if you can't correct a mistake that's been 504 years overdue to be corrected." Skulker couldn't get over the cavalier dismissal of a beheading that would have had any other ghost he knew begging for mercy. But he was now stuck for it.

The Friar found Desiree. "Hello, there."

"You are the… why do you choose to be known as the 'Fat' Friar?"

He smiled. "Because that's what I am. It's actually a trick my Housemates taught me when I was a student at Hogwarts. You see, while many children are innocent and sweet, other children can be vicious and cruel. Picking on insecure children is one of those things they do, perhaps to hide their own jealousy, insecurity, or simply out of spite. I was always heavy, and was fairly sensitive about the teasing.

"My friends, particularly my Housemates, told me to take the synecdoche and make it mine. If I claimed it as a title, they couldn't use it to hurt me anymore. I've seen it done to good results before, as a red-haired student was fondly called 'Carrot-top' by a kind-hearted school caretaker. So when the students, jealous of the girl's red hair, used Carrot-top as an epithet, she surprised them by glowing with pleasure and pride.

"I believe it was a prefect who reminded me that – until balanced diets were known to be healthful and widely accessible – fat on a person, in Europe, anyway, was seen as a symbol of wealth and prosperity. And so… when the cruel children couldn't fault me for my work ethic (and resultant good grades), or my loyalty to my friends and causes, or even my kindness, they discovered they could no longer tease me over the one thing I had no control over, that I was aware of."

Desiree nodded firmly. "Hogwarts is a school of witchcraft and wizardry, is it not?"

The Friar nodded happily. "It is indeed. How did you know of it?"

She waved a hand. "I've been around. I know a little of this, a little of that. I was a ghostly genie in a lamp for a while, and my lamp was passed around the Wizarding World in the Middle-East and western Asia for a while, until it reached the Romani. Babazita learned my tale, and told it well." She sighed.

The Friar studied her for a bit. "Desiree, I have heard Danny say that you have the power, if not the desire, to turn him into a wizard. Is this true?"

"Of course it's true! I've always been good at using my magic to grant wishes. Since my wishes were never fulfilled, I take it upon myself to grant wishes, but only in a fashion that I wish to. And I've spent over a century granting wishes. I could turn… you would say, a Muggle into a wizard, or a wizard into a Muggle. I've done it, too. But…" She scanned the crowd, laying eyes on Danny, and lowered her voice. "Now that the half-ghosts know about the Wizarding World, I will make it my business to never be in a position to be forced to grant that wish."

Desiree crossed her arms and flounced. It was impressive, particularly because she kept a ghostly tail throughout the interview. Glaring in Danny's direction, she spat, "That boy is powerful enough. It would have been fun to have his friend and helper become a malevolent force more powerful than he is. I never learned how he undid that, as my spell was complete. But I may never forgive Danny for disrupting my granting of wishes during a meteor shower."

The Friar patted her back. "Come now, my dear. Forgiveness is divine, you know. And you should know that he isn't entirely sure of what exactly happened that day. He remembers a fight with his friend, he remembers rescuing her, but… you can't fault him for trying to save his friend, can you?"

Desiree thought about this. She remembered that Sam was very specific in her wish that the three Musketeers remember the event, but Desiree did manipulate how Danny remembered those few days. She did make sure his memory of some of what happened was vague. He did remember his past with his powers, he remembered how life would have been different if he and Sam didn't have their past relationship, but Desiree left him uncertain of her role in the affair. He knew she was involved, but he never knew the extent of it. It was spiteful, but she knew that once he was back in control of his powers and his memory of her, he would win. It was her way of getting back at him.

She sighed. "I suppose not. But it was almost perfect… I was moments away from achieving so much power…"

"I know, dear, I know. But remember this… If your work was not undone, who would have saved us from Pariah Dark?"

She looked at him sulkily. "You are causing me to have a feeling I don't wish to have." Guilt, possibly remorse, or even gratitude for Danny's work was rising within her, and she didn't want it.

"Look within yourself, and be honest. Who is causing these feelings?"

The Friar was right again, but she resented it. "I still don't have to grant him that wish."

The former monk smiled. "If you got to know him, you would know that he doesn't desire power outside that which he already has. Surely, you could spare a moment for a proper holiday greeting."

She glared at the short ghost, but then drifted over to find Danny. A simple greeting couldn't hurt.

Vlad served himself some of Ember's heavenly goose and found the Grey Lady. "Lady Helena, how are you enjoying the party?"

"Well, Professor, there is quite a collection of people here. It is interesting to meet so many of young Danny's acquaintances. It is unfortunate that so many are not pleased with our young hero."

"My dear Lady, besides the princess, who he rescued from the cruel reign of her brother, and the Ghostwriter, for whom Daniel caused the first problem and they've since reconciled, I'm not sure there's a ghost here whose plans he didn't foil at least twice. They are friendly enough because they have to be, but I believe after… Myrtle spoke with that other young ghost, I think she effected a reconciliation between Daniel and Sydney."

The Grey Lady smiled warmly. "Then dear Myrtle is learning. She is asserting herself and standing up for what she thinks is right. I'm proud of her."

"You've given her a fine role model."

She blushed opaque silver. "Actually, I think her role model is Danny. Even he is proud of her! Look." Vlad and the Grey Lady watched as Myrtle had words with the Box Ghost, as he spoke to Danny. Sydney gave a reproving look to both Danny and the Box Ghost. Danny shrugged, but the Box Ghost looked unhappy as Myrtle stood with her hands on her hips, occasionally wagging a finger at him. Danny's eyes glowed proudly at her courage.

Vlad laughed. "I'll have to be careful. Perhaps this 'hero' thing is catching. Daniel, Harry, now Myrtle… Is this something we should be encouraging?"

"Absolutely, Professor. Without question."

Professor Binns watched Youngblood toss grapes in the air, and giggled when the parrot caught and ate them. "Avast, ye botswain! Stay back!"

The professor smiled. "Ah, piracy as romanticized. Do you know why pirates speak the way you seem to like to act out?"

Youngblood wasn't sure what to do. He was unhappy with the idea of learning from a teacher, but he didn't know of any teacher that spent time on pirates. "Um…"

"Would you like to know?"

Youngblood shrugged. The parrot looked at him. "It might help you correct your repartee if you knew why you were on about these things."

He thought for a moment. "Okay. Yeah. Why do pirates talk like that?"

Professor Binns began, "Part of the speech is nautical jargon. Part of it comes from the uneducated speech of the lower classes. And part of it comes from the pain that the villains of the high seas incurred during their battles."

Youngblood got the idea of pain – there was a reason one of his legs was wooden and one of his hands was a hook, and that didn't come from a game. But he focused on a part of the conversation he wasn't already familiar with. "Lower classes? What do you mean?"

The professor sighed. "I take it, from your accent, that you are from America."

"Yeah."

"If you are unfamiliar with the concept of a class system, I would say you were from… the mid-20th century or later."

The young pirate wanna-be cocked his head. "How do you know?"

Binns explained, "The things you think of as 'common knowledge' date you. Whether the things you know are dealing with the upkeep of slaves, or how upwardly mobile you can be before you hit somewhere 'above your station,' or what new gadget will help you 'keep up with the Joneses,' the common day to day discussions that don't require much thought or research tells an informed listener when you are from. It is a good skill to have as a ghost, Youngblood."

"When are you from, Professor?"

"The United States were still colonies when I was alive. But that may not be as helpful as it sounds. There are a few centuries that fact could cover, and I didn't tell you what was going on when I died. And, I lived a rather long life. Why don't you guess?"

Youngblood scratched his head. "Or maybe a game, like Twenty Questions?"

"Very well." He smiled. Professor Binns tricked the young ghost into being more comfortable around him, and turned learning into a game. It was a long time since he had such fun. This may not change his teaching style in Hogwarts, but it was an interesting way to teach history.

Danny stood in a corner, eating from a plate of refreshments, just relaxing from the merriment around him. The Ghostwriter sidled up and asked, "So how are you enjoying the party?"

Looking up, Danny smiled lightly. "With all things concerned, this is probably the first stress-free Christmas I can ever remember. Even in hiding, I'm here with friends, no one is fighting that I need to worry about, Vlad and I are getting along, and I'm just having a good time."

The Ghostwriter put an arm around his shoulder giving a friendly squeeze. "Would you say you learned last year's lesson?"

Danny smiled at the author. "I guess I did."

"Merry Christmas, Danny."

Having worked the party such that he spoke to every adult ghost in the room, Vlad stood by the fire with a glass of champagne in his hand, watching Daniel. The boy was light-hearted and smiled warmly. He was more relaxed than Vlad could ever recall seeing him.

Sir Nicholas and the Baron looked at each other, nodded, and approached him. "You've done well, Vlad," Sir Nicholas murmured.

"Have I?" Vlad's eyes never left Daniel.

"Indeed," intoned the Baron.

"How so?"

Sir Nicholas put a hand on Vlad's shoulder that was not attached to the hand holding the champagne. "There are so many things going on in his world to make Danny desperately unhappy. Despite being away from all of his natural family and his human friends, he is cheerful and seems to be content. And while the six of us from Hogwarts are here, he will leave the party with you, and he is happy about this. Considering that when you first took guardianship of Danny, you were arch-nemeses, the fact that he should be at such ease with you is a testament to your hard work and good will. He appreciates what you've done for him. I would consider all of this a job well done."

The Baron said simply, "You have done a very creditable job, Vlad."

Vlad looked up at the two older ghosts, Sir Nicholas beaming and the Baron making the attempt to do the same. "I thank you for saying so."

Draining his flute, Vlad put it on the mantle and checked his watch. Walking over to where the Ghostwriter and Daniel stood, Vlad cleared his throat.

Danny said, "Uncle Vlad?" The Ghostwriter's eyes widened at this address.

"Daniel, it's getting late. It is time we head back to our rooms."

The Ghostwriter nodded. "Have a good night. Thank you for coming to the party, and I'll see you in the morning."

Danny put his plate on a nearby table, and Vlad grasped his shoulders. "How have you enjoyed your evening, Daniel?"

"I have, Vlad. A lot. Thank you."

Vlad smiled warmly. "I told you I wanted to make our first Christmas happy."

"You did."

"And it's not yet over."

"I know." Danny snuck an arm around Vlad and leaned into him. "Thanks, Vlad."

"Merry Christmas, Daniel."

---

Harry slowly woke, hearing Ron mutter in awe, "It's perfect. It's absolutely perfect."

Having rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Harry found his glasses and asked, "What's perfect, Ron?"

"This chain Hermione got for me. Look!" Harry fingered the necklace. The charm was a ruby surrounded by a ring of blue topaz. "It's perfect."

Harry smiled. "Of course it's perfect. Hermione's good that way." He shrugged into the sweater Mrs. Weasley made him, reminding himself to go through the twins' newest products they gifted him with. There was an odd, roundish package the size of two fisted hands, with a label that read: 'To Master, from Kreacher.'

"What do you think it could be? Do you think it's safe?" Harry asked.

"Dunno. Can't be dangerous, as all our mail's being searched at the Ministry."

Harry sighed. He discovered a rather large package of sunflower seeds. His eyes widened. "Interesting. They're fresh, so they can be either eaten or planted. Or used in potions."

Ron laughed. "Didn't take long for you to start thinking like the ward of a Potions Master."

Harry blushed. "Yeah, well…"

Ron thought about this. "But I thought Kreacher hated you."

Shrugging, Harry said, "I sent him the cake plate with the Black family crest as a gift. I guess he liked it."

"Now, you've got two mental house-elves who like you. Hermione would have a fit."

Harry smiled; she probably would, at that. Or, she'd be proud. But what was this? "Hey, Ron. Look what Danny sent."

Ron looked up with curiosity and surprise. "I got one, too! But… How did he get the gifts here? He can't use the Floo. Muggles can't, you know."

Harry didn't know. The Floo powder seemed to be a pre-spelled item. He would have to look into it later. "Danny might be a Muggle, but no one said Professor Masters couldn't send them for him." He opened the package to find a large plush but finely detailed tawny lion with a red mane that wore a green sweater. A note attached read, 'To make up for the years you've needed someone to hug. Merry Christmas. Danny.'

Harry refused to let himself tear up in front of Ron. Besides the picture album Hagrid gave him and the Firebolt Sirius gave him, this was easily the most sentimental, intimate gift he had ever received. It was personal on a level no one had ever gotten before. Harry murmured, "You are what Dudley should have been. But you're so much better, Danny."

"Harry?"

He smiled at Ron with glassy eyes. "It's great, Ron. What did he get you?"

After sifting through the wonderful things they received, they joined the family downstairs in the kitchen. Harry brought a package with him under his arm. He wanted to give his gift to Professor Snape in person. Everyone wore the sweaters Mrs. Weasley made for them. It genuinely surprised Harry and Ron to see Professor Snape wear the black cable knit sweater, and Fleur blushed, wearing the sweater of royal blue. Apparently, the professor impressed upon her the propriety of not offending their hosts.

Ginny saw the startled look on Harry's face as he gazed at Fleur's rouged countenance, and she grinned at him. Fleur's better grace in dealing with the Weasleys was another unexpected effect of having Professor Snape here.

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley said suddenly. She stood up and stared out the window. "Arthur – it's Percy!"

"What?"

Everyone looked out the window, and Ginny stood up to get a better look. Percy had come up the walkway, but he wasn't alone.

"Arthur, he's – he's with the Minister!"

Severus's face turned stony. The Minister surely didn't visit the Weasleys on a regular basis. The reason he was here had to do with Harry. What did that posturing fraud Scrimgeour want with his ward? Whatever it was, he wasn't getting it without Snape's consent!

The back door opened and there stood Percy. There was a moment of painful silence, and then Percy said rather stiffly, "Happy Christmas, Mother."

"Oh, Percy!" Mrs. Weasley threw her arms around her long distanced son.

Rufus Scrimgeour paused in the door, smiling as he observed this tender scene. "You must forgive this intrusion…"

The professor crossed his arms and said, "Forgive me, Minister, but since when does a son's homecoming on a holiday constitute an intrusion?"

Everyone stared at Professor Snape. Neither Rufus nor Percy seemed to expect the dour Potions Master and professor to be there, and were surprised at his presence and interruption. Other occupants of the room were unsure of what to make of this, and were as curious as anything to find out what would happen next.

The Minister cleared his throat and tried again. "Percy and I were in the vicinity – working, you know – and he couldn't resist dropping in and seeing you all."

Percy showed no sign of wanting to greet any of the rest of the family, and Mr. Weasley, Fred, and George stared at him, observing him. Professor Snape narrowed his eyes and glared at the Minister.

"Please come in, sit down, Minister!" fluttered Mrs. Weasley, straightening her hat. "Have some…"

"No, no, my dear Molly," said Scrimgeour. Snape raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to intrude, wouldn't be here at all if Percy hadn't wanted to see you all so badly…"

"Oh, Perce!" Mrs. Weasley reached out to kiss him.

Scrimgeour said, "Yes, well, not wanting to interfere with your reunion… I noticed you have a charming garden. If that young man right there would take a turn in it with me…"

Snape sneered. "Ah, Minister. At least Lady Catherine de Bourgh had Mrs. Bennet's leave before taking Elizabeth into the garden."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have neither my pardon, nor permission to remove my ward from my sight."

The Minister spluttered. Harry was grateful, as the choreographed scene of an uninterested Percy greeting a mostly unwelcoming family, and the Minister's pretending not to know who Harry was had been rather badly played. The uneasy feeling Harry had was lessened because Professor Snape cut to the heart of the matter. Harry decided to remind himself to ask his guardian when he'd read Pride and Prejudice, but now there were more pressing matters at hand.

"But Harry has no guardian, beyond his aunt and uncle."

"Tut, tut, Minister. It would serve you better to check the files, rather than to rely on what the media says on the matter. I can assure you that I am indeed Harry's guardian, and I will not have him alone with an adult I'm not familiar with, at present."

"Surely, you would trust your ward with the Minister of Magic?"

Severus glowered at the Minister. "I have no faith in the government, whatsoever. Two summers ago, the Minister of Magic set a full Wizengamot against my ward for using magic to defend himself from Dementors. Considering the circus the Ministry made out of Hogwarts last year, I have no inclination to give the Ministry, or even the Minister, carte blanche to have any dealings with my ward that I do not expressly approve of. If you wish to speak to my s- ward, you will have me present, or you shall not speak to him at all."

Rufus was speechless. This was a turn of events he hadn't anticipated. Until this point, Dumbledore prevented anyone from the Ministry who wasn't a Weasley from even getting near the boy. But with an official guardian looking out for him, the boy would be that much more difficult to manipulate.

Taking a breath, Rufus said, "Very well, gentlemen. If you would join me, I'd be delighted." Neither Harry nor Severus believed that 'delighted' would be the word they would use to describe it, but Harry looked to the professor who rolled his eyes, and they followed him out to the garden.

Walking across the yard, the Minister gave up the pretense of caring about the snow-covered garden. "You know, Harry, I've wanted to meet you for a very long time."

Harry looked back at him. "No, sir. I didn't know."

"Rumors have flown around, with whispers of prophecies…"

Snape said, "I would think so, Minister, since the Hall of Prophecies was damaged if not destroyed."

This wasn't working the way Scrimgeour wanted it to. "Harry, people have been saying that you are 'the Chosen One.' What do you know about that?"

Harry furrowed his brows. "Only that it's one more annoying rumor and title that I've been given. The Boy Who Lived, the Heir of Slytherin (thank goodness that rumor's over), Hogwarts Champion (and all the epithets that came with it), and there was no end to the names, titles, or accusations leveled at me all of last year. This 'Chosen One' thing is just one more way for the media to torment me."

"I'm sorry that it's troubled you, Harry. Have you discussed such things with Dumbledore?"

The professor grew increasingly impatient. "What my ward discusses with the Headmaster is a confidence you have no right to. Move on to something more productive, or I'm declaring this interview over."

This guardianship was beginning to annoy Rufus. If Snape kept interfering, he would get nowhere with the boy. "I am sorry that you are bothered by the title. But to the community at large, it seems to be rather important. People believe you are 'the Chosen One,' you see. They think you're quite the hero – which, of course, you are, Harry, chosen or not! The point is, you are a symbol of hope for many, Harry. The idea that there is somebody out there who might be able, who might even be destined, to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named – naturally, it gives people a lift. And I can't help but feel that, once you realize this, you might consider it a duty to stand along side the Ministry, and give everyone a boost."

Professor Snape looked thoughtful. He was curious to see what Harry would say or do.

Harry said, "I don't exactly understand what you want, Minister."

"Nothing onerous at all, I assure you. If you were seen popping in and out of the Ministry from time to time, that would give the right impression."

"Forgive my interruption once again, Minister." Snape could see the frustration building in the man's face, and was taking sincere, if perverse, pleasure from it. "I assume you heard of our encounter with Death Eaters last month, as they attacked us in Hogsmeade."

"Of course! And both of you performed brilliantly, once again showing what a true hero Harry is."

"Minister, what gave you the impression that I would allow Harry anywhere that is not as heavily warded as this very home or Hogwarts until the danger is over? And before you attempt to convince me or Harry that the Ministry itself is protected, it would be useful to remember that Voldemort himself invaded the Ministry and escaped with no hesitancy but his own will."

Scrimgeour paled. "I understand your concern, Professor. Perhaps you would consent to an interview."

Harry piped up, "With who, Minister? I hate the media attention, and there is no way you can convince me that more media attention is in my best interest."

"But think of the image, Harry."

"The image?" Harry asked. "So, basically you'd like to give the impression that I'm supporting the Ministry?"

"It would give everyone a lift, Harry."

"Won't that seem as though I approve of what the Ministry's up to?"

Scrimgeour frowned slightly. "Well, yes, that's partly why we'd like to…"

"Then no, I don't think it would work. You see, I don't like some of the things the Ministry's doing. Locking up Stan Shunpike, for instance."

Scrimgeour's face hardened. "I would not expect you to understand. These are dangerous times, and certain measures must be taken."

Harry was angry, but kept a low tone. "Locking people up without proving their guilt is a measure you have to take? Like keeping Sirius in prison for twelve years, without a trial, and then discovering only after he died that he was innocent all along? This is justice? And this is what you want to do to Stan?

"I think I understand just fine. You want the image that you're doing something to protect the public, but the only thing you're really protecting is your image."

Rufus's face turned red. "You would do well to remember who you're addressing, young man."

Harry shrugged. "A man who wants me to help create a false image."

"I see. You prefer to distance yourself from the Ministry."

"I prefer to distance myself from lies."

Professor Snape said, "And no matter who prefers what, this conference is at an end. Come, Harry. We've heard quite enough. And no, Minister, I would not grant permission for the interviews you're interested in. I'm glad to see that my ward shows the intelligence to see this for what it is – an unwarranted invasion of our privacy for a cause outside of his best interests. Good day to you, Minister. Come inside, Harry."

---

Danny woke at what he assumed was Christmas morning. At least, it was eight hours after he went to bed last night. It was interesting to wake up in ghost form. He had never been in the Ghost Zone overnight, before this trip, and it was still a disconcerting sensation. Rousing from unconsciousness always brought him to his human form, at home. But then, taking his human form in the Ghost Zone took as much energy as it took to turn ghost in the Real World.

He changed Morph's water, refilled her dish with food, and changed the litter in her box. She stretched and peered up at Danny and mewed contentedly. He petted her head with his gloved hand. "Merry Christmas, girl. Did you enjoy yourself last night?" She rolled on her back to let Danny rub her tummy. He complied. "I know I did. Last night was weirder than last year, but it was fun. The ghosts from the Ghost Zone didn't know what to make of the ghosts from Hogwarts."

He sat on the floor and crossed his legs. Morph jumped into his lap, kneaded his knee a few times, and settled in place where he could more easily stroke her. He smiled at her, and then lost himself in the memory. His hand was gentle, even on automatic pilot. "It was fun to see the House Ghosts, Myrtle, and Professor Binns in a social… well, purely social setting. Sir Nicholas will be forever grateful to Skulker – no one can call him 'Nearly Headless Nick' anymore, as Skulker properly completed his beheading." Danny shuddered and chuckled. "I wonder what Sir Patrick will say when he finds out.

"Myrtle was awesome. She told the Box Ghost off for messing around in Hogwarts, and picking on 'the living' in general. Lady Helena might have helped her find her confidence, but Myrtle is special because of what she chose to do with it. If Myrtle didn't mention it, I would never have thought of a game of catch with an ectoplasmic ball as a party game, but it's one of the few tangible joys she has. Huh – none of the Hogwarts ghosts ever let me see them eating or drinking. I'll have to ask about that when I get back to school."

He looked at Morph. "I can't tell you how weird it is to have the ghosts be nice to me. I mean, it was cool that they were last year, and they helped me fix the mess I made of things last year. But Walker and Skulker were partying and pleasant. And the best part was that no one rhymed, until the Ghostwriter, the Friar, and Sir Nicholas had a poem recitation contest, or something." He sighed. "Sam would have loved that type of thing, even though it wasn't Goth poetry. She would have enjoyed the novelty of ghosts reciting ballads and other poems. I would not have figured on Ember singing 'Carol of the Bells,' though. She and her mindless back-up crew were really good.

"Dora was disappointed there was no ball, but there was music enough for anyone interested enough to dance. Dora told us of the last Christmas she remembered. I imagine that Christmas was kinda new when she started celebrating it. The timelessness of ghosts is something I never really thought of. Professor Binns gave Youngblood a history lesson. It was funny. And Professor Binns wouldn't tell us when he lived until we asked the right questions. That was too cool."

Danny picked up Morph and nuzzled her. She purred loudly, and he shifted her into the crook of his left arm while his right hand cuddled her. "And then there was Vlad. I know that he's an important guy, but dude – all the ghosts treated him like royalty. They kinda did to me too, but Vlad… wow. You know, before last night, I've never seen Vlad interact with the Ghost Zone ghosts, except for Skulker. But now… I don't know. Sir Nicholas explained the whole importance of introduction, and the idea that Vlad and I were mentioned after Dora was 'a testament to the acknowledgement of our superior power.' I never would have thought of that." He nuzzled her again. "The only one I ever want to think of me as 'Master' is you, and that's only 'cause that's what pet owners are. I think of you more like a friend, anyway."

He put her down. "I'll see you later, Morph. I've got to see what Vlad's up to, and wish him a Merry Christmas."

Danny walked into the sitting room, where Vlad lounged in a wing-backed chair by the fire. "Good morning, and merry Christmas, little badger."

"Merry Christmas, Uncle Vlad." There was a Christmas tree in the corner that was decorated with strings of lights, tinsel, candy canes, metallic reflective balls, and a lovely star on top. There was a felt floor covering underneath, and there were a few gifts on the felt. "Um… Vlad, where did the tree come from? It wasn't here when we first got here. This morning is the first time I remember seeing it at all."

Pouring himself and Danny a cup of tea, Vlad looked at the tree, and turned back to putting sugar in the cups. "I really couldn't say. Why do you ask?"

"Well… Where would he get a tree?"

Sending a duplicate to feel the needles of the tree through his gloves, Vlad shrugged. "It's real enough. I imagine it sparks the romanticism in the Ghostwriter's soul to stay as traditional as he can. Which, again, begs your question. But why should such a thing trouble you? Princess Dora's castle had trees all over the place. Why should this be different?"

Danny was nonplussed. "Vlad, there is a forest on the island of the kingdom. Trees would be there for the taking."

Vlad thought for a moment. "Perhaps the Ghostwriter typed it into existence on his special Keyboard. You know, he uses it for purposes besides making you miserable last year."

Danny nudged the floor with a toe. "Didn't think of that." Another thought came to Danny. "You know, Vlad, Myrtle told me that wizards send presents to each other via Floo, so they get where they're supposed to go on Christmas Day. You told me to bring my selection to your room and put it in a pile. What happened to them?"

"Your friends, the elves, will do almost anything you ask, if you ask nicely. I asked Dobby, the one who wears hats, to deliver them for us, and to route any gifts we receive from the magical world to my rooms. We may have to go back a little early on January 5, so we can open the gifts the wizards sent us. It wouldn't do to have them send things and not acknowledge them. You should start writing Thank You cards Monday evening after our lessons. I know I will." Danny nodded.

Vlad smiled. "Apparently, some of our ghostly friends left presents for us."

"Um… Vlad, I didn't know we were coming here, until Friday, when Professor Binns helped me figure it out. What should I give to the Ghostwriter? It would be rude to stay in his house on Christmas and not give him anything."

"Yes, good point." He thought for a moment. "Why don't you give him a set of your ice mugs? They are uniquely from you, as I doubt the people of the Far Frozen are so whimsical, and Klemper's not clever enough. They show off your talent, and should keep as long as he likes. The cool, ectoplasmic atmosphere has to be good for something. I've already given him my gift."

Danny looked up. "What did you give him?"

"I've commissioned him to write up our party last night in poem form. I've already reserved and purchased the first fourteen copies, but I'm sure any number of other ghosts would be interested in getting one of their own. It truly was a night to remember."

"Fourteen copies?"

"I'll share my gift list with you later. But now, let's open what we have here."

Danny smiled. Vlad was as excited as a little kid. Perhaps he had a few too many Christmas mornings alone. Or, more importantly, this was the first Christmas he would share with a kid of his own.

Dora gave Danny a steel sword with a jeweled hilt, pommel and sheath. She left a note that it was only befitting a knight. If Dora was a princess, yet she made Danny a knight, why was Danny more important? Right – because he and Vlad were more powerful. Danny decided he needed to sort this out with Sir Nicholas when they got back.

The Ghostwriter gave Danny a copy of the history of the people of the Far Frozen and a card with a simple poem of holiday greeting (of his own devising), and a note saying that it would be useful to know more about the people who would help to teach him a very impressive skill. They were surprised by a card from Clockwork; they were invited to come later today, when they were finished with the Ghostwriter after lunch.

Vlad was clearly delighted with the invitation, but his pupil-less red eyes gleamed with pleasure, as he said, "Oh, Daniel, now you must open my gift to you."

Deciding that it would be wrong to deny Vlad this simple pleasure, Danny grabbed the last box and tore it open. His eyes grew very wide. "No, Vlad. You didn't!"

"Ah, but I did."

"Wow… Thanks, Vlad." Danny was now the proud owner of two complete box sets of Dumpty Humpty's albums, one complete set of CDs for when they got back to America, and just as complete a box set of LPs to play at Hogwarts in the Room of Requirement. Danny scooted over to where Vlad sat on the floor and hugged him. "That was amazing, and thoughtful, and wow. Thanks."

"Merry Christmas, little badger."

"And now it's my turn to give you my gift." Danny took a deep breath. He really wanted this to go well. "I've thought about this long and hard. I'm finally giving you the one thing you've wanted for the longest time."

Vlad furrowed his brows and cocked his head. "You mean Green Bay changed their mind?"

Danny chuckled. He'd almost forgotten about that. "Not to my knowledge. But Vlad… I'd like you to formally adopt me. I… want to be your son."

Vlad's eyes grew very wide. "Did I hear you right? You're… you're not cruelly teasing me again, like you did at the hunting lodge?"

Danny grasped Vlad's hands. "No. Not like in the lodge. For real. I mean, I wouldn't want to call you 'Dad,' 'cause that's for, well, Dad. But some other name that shows I consider you my father… that might work."

"You really mean it?"

"Yes, Vlad. I really mean it."

"Yes!" Vlad pulled Danny onto his lap, to Danny's not-quite-mortification, this time. Vlad enfolded Danny in a hug. "My son. My son! You've agreed to be my son! I've wanted this since that day in January almost two years ago. You're my son!" Vlad cried as he kissed the top of Danny's head. "My son."

"I love you, Vlad."

"I love you, Daniel."

They sat like that for quite some time. After several minutes passed, Vlad said, "I'll have you know that I have the adoption papers filled out and waiting in my desk drawer in my private rooms in Hogwarts, with the exceptions of our signatures, the dates, and the signature and stamp of a notary public. When we get back to Hogwarts, I'll email my secretary, and make an appointment with my lawyer. While I'm sure there's nothing wrong with British solicitors, the public would want to know why I wouldn't have done everything in Wisconsin."

Danny looked up at Vlad and couldn't remember him ever appearing so happy. "And you're right, of course. Jack will always be your Dad. But…" He paused in silence.

"Vlad?"

"Perhaps… perhaps you might… Well… Perhaps you'd call me Pápa?"

Danny blinked. "Pápa?"

Vlad's blue face blushed red. "Yes, well… That's what I called my own father, before… well, never mind. But Jack will forever be your Dad, and I want a name that you would have only for me."

"It'll be weird."

"Yes, but… Could you do this for me? Please?"

"Okay, Pápa."

"Thank you, my son." Vlad hugged him again.

---

Harry and Severus came back into the kitchen and were quickly ushered into the living room, to see Percy hastily walking to the front door with parsnip on his glasses, and Mrs. Weasley tearfully fleeing upstairs. Severus demanded, "What in Merlin's name happened while we were out in the garden?"

Arthur, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny chorused, "You don't want to know."

Both Harry and Professor Snape were surprised, but the professor was especially taken aback. Harry asked hesitantly, "Where's Bill and Fleur?"

Dusting off his shoulders, Arthur let anger flash in his eyes momentarily before he calmed down enough to answer simply, "When it was clear that Percy only intended to be rude to us, Fleur was highly offended, and Bill took her out to a meal elsewhere. I dare say they'll be back by dinnertime, but…" He sighed.

Professor Snape asked, more delicately this time, "May I ask what happened to your wife?"

Arthur looked over his four youngest children and back to the professor. "Percy made her cry. These children chose to retaliate, and I chose to turn a blind eye to their misbehavior. You don't want to make Molly cry, Professor."

Severus's eyebrows shot up. While Arthur Weasley was a kind, soft-spoken man, it would never do to underestimate him, his power, or his fierce love for his family. "I'll keep that in mind."

Harry remembered a bit of the mess in the kitchen as they were hurried through it. "Would you like me to help clean up?"

Before either twin, Ron, or Ginny could say anything, Mr. Weasley said, "Oh, no, Harry. If you helped to clean, you would figure out what happened, and we are determined that you don't want to know what happened. However…" He glanced sternly at his miscreant children, but it was far too soft to be a glare. "They will clean up and be done before Molly is ready to make dinner. It would not do to upset her again."

All four teenaged redheads gulped. "Yes, Dad." And with that, they and their father disappeared into the kitchen.

After the kitchen door snapped shut, Professor Snape observed, "That was… unexpected."

Harry smiled. "Well, here you learn to expect the unexpected."

"I imagine you're right." Severus thought for a moment. "I suppose, with this moment of relative privacy, now would be a good time to exchange our gifts."

Harry said, "Good idea. Give me a moment, though." He knocked on the kitchen door.

George stuck his head out. "Can I help you with something?"

Harry smirked sheepishly. "Yeah. By my seat, I left a package…"

From within, a voice said, "Here, George. Catch!"

George turned to catch it, while another voice admonished, "I told you to do this without magic!"

"But this isn't cleaning – it's just getting something for Harry."

"I'll deal with you later."

George cleared his throat. "Well, here it is. I'll see you later." He winked and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Harry saw Professor Snape taking a seat near the tree, and he took one close to him. "So, who should give one first?"

Severus paused in thought. "It depends on which will make the most dramatic impact."

This was new. Professor Snape turned this gift giving into a game. Harry decided he could get used to this. "Well, my gift is slated to make you feel more special."

Severus raised an eyebrow, and said, "And my gift is slated to make you feel 'more normal'."

"If that's the case, Professor, you win, hands down. You open my gift first."

Severus knew that Harry wanted to be 'normal,' but didn't realize how high a value the boy set for it. Harry handed him a neatly wrapped box. Inside was an album with a velvet green cover, and in silver writing, read: 'Professor Severus Snape: Potions Master'. He looked to Harry, who smiled and nodded. Inside the album was every newspaper article, journal article, and otherwise comprehensive scrapbook with clippings detailing whenever he was in the news for his Potions and professorial accomplishments. It opened with an article announcing that Severus Snape was the youngest Potions Master in all of Europe in hundreds of years. There was an announcement pronouncing him to be the youngest professor on staff at Hogwarts when he was first hired. There were articles declaring his Potions inventions and innovations, articles Snape himself had written, and news and journal entries about him.

"Harry, this is amazing. How did you…?"

Harry smiled. "I got help from Mr. Weasley, Madam Pince, and Mr. Lovegood. I got two copies of everything, so both of us could have a copy." His eyes took on a mischievous twinkle. "The first words you ever said to me were about being a celebrity, and I thought about that. Why should I have had all that fuss when my greatest accomplishment at that point was nothing more than staying alive? You, on the other hand, have done amazing things, breaking records, creating inventions, and being far more brilliant than seems to be widely acknowledged. I wanted to show you that at least somebody appreciates you for all you do, and all you've done."

Severus closed the album, put it on a nearby table, got up, and hugged Harry. "You… you…" He held the boy tightly, speechless. After several minutes of carrying on this way, Severus straightened and said, "I cannot thank you enough. Only because I know this will affect you much more powerfully, am I sure we've chosen the correct order."

He handed Harry a small package. "Happy Christmas, Harry." Harry took off the wrapping and there were two small boxes. Professor Snape flicked his wand, whispering, "Engorgio." One box was from Harrod's, and it was spelled to hold far more than any such thing from the Muggle department store could naturally hold. The other was from Madam Malkin's. Between them both, Harry took out at least three pairs of jeans, and Harry almost lost track of the number of pairs of casual slacks and dress slacks in various colors. There were polo shirts, dress shirts, pull-over shirts, sweaters, three-piece suits, wizard robes for casual wear, formal wear, dress robes, extra school things, outer cloaks. There were trainers, dress shoes, dragon-hide boots, and galoshes.

Severus said, "Oh, and for some reason which escapes me, Professor Masters has requested to hold onto the unsightly rags your unnatural relatives saw fit to clothe you in. You will never see the horrid rags again, though what the good professor intends to do with them, I couldn't guess."

Harry blinked when he reached several packages of pajamas, undergarments, and socks. "But how…"

"Surely you don't think Madam Pomfrey was the only one attending you during your lengthy stays in the hospital wing, especially when you were unconscious for days at a time. Of course I needed to know your precise weight to make sure the Potions you took were of an appropriate strength. Further, when you needed to be turned, so not to develop bedsores, well… anyone could lift you off the bed with a simple Levitation Charm. But turning a patient is less jarring when done manually."

Harry found the package of white socks fascinating. "But you hated me."

"Yes, I did. But I have a responsibility to my students, regardless of whether I like them or not." This was getting off into territory he didn't want to cover, so he changed topics. "Harry, it has taken me quite some time to realize that you have never been treated 'normally.' Unfortunately, you probably never will be. However, regardless of the barbaric way your… relatives treated you, or the insane expectations the Wizarding World holds you to (which you will probably live up to, despite them, blast them), there is no reason you should not have what is considered a normal wardrobe for a young wizard. The wardrobe of a boy who is cared for and loved."

Harry jerked his head up. "What?" he whispered.

Severus paused a moment. "I… love you." Wow. That wasn't all that difficult. But what would Harry think?

Tears streamed down Harry's face. "Say it again."

"I love you, Harry."

Harry carefully put down the package of socks, got up, and hugged Professor Snape, clinging to him.

It was quite some time before the torrent of happy tears slowed enough to give Harry some of his voice back. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do. When have you ever heard me say anything I didn't mean?"

"Right." Harry took a ragged breath. "You know the first time I ever heard those words aimed at me? When I was in Professor Dumbledore's office, and he had me destroy a locket with… Voldemort's soul and memories in it. A false image of Aunt Petunia and you said that I would never be worthy of anyone's love."

"Oh, Harry!"

"I destroyed the foul thing, but the things it said hurt. Almost to make me feel better, Professor Dumbledore told me that he loved me. I guess this is the second time I've heard the words, but the first time a father figure said them to me." Professor Snape held Harry close again.

"I love you, Harry, and you're stuck with me, as long as you'll have me. Until this year, I never would have thought it, but now that I do, I don't ever want to let you go."

"Really?"

"Really, Harry." Harry put his head on Snape's shoulder as he cried some more. The professor's heart broke to see how seriously touched Harry was by a simple declaration of love, and being treated decently, as any human being should be. He guided the boy to a couch, where they could sit beside each other.

After a few minutes, Harry quieted himself. "Then I guess I love you, too."

Severus was startled. When Harry told him he never heard the words, Severus was sure that Harry would have difficulty saying them. It was hard for him to digest the fact that the first person to whom Harry Potter made a declaration of love was himself, Severus Snape.

Harry sat, catching his breath, staring at the kitchen door. He quirked his lips into a half-smile. "That must be some mess in there, huh?"

Professor Snape chuckled. "Indeed. That it must."

Taking a deep breath, Harry decided to share what had been on his mind for quite some time. "If we've decided that we love each other, then we really have to find a more intimate name than 'Professor' or 'sir' for me to call you."

Raising an eyebrow, the professor said, "Interesting. And?"

"And… I'd like to come back to Danny for a moment."

Severus looked at Harry squarely, with his undivided attention. He had no idea where Harry was headed with this. "Alright."

"Well… since Thanksgiving, I've realized that Danny is more of a cousin to me than Dudley ever was, for all that Aunt Petunia's my mother's sister. When I decided to accept your guardianship, we kinda thought of developing our relationship into something similar to what Professor Masters and Danny have." Severus nodded. "Considering that I'm thinking of Danny more like a cousin, I could see calling Professor Masters 'Uncle Vlad' if he'd let me. Danny does, and has, so I figure it could work."

Harry almost put a hand on the back of his neck, and caught himself, realizing that was Danny's nervous tic. "At that point, I joked that I wasn't ready to call you 'Uncle Severus' the way Danny calls Professor Masters 'Uncle Vlad.' At this point, I feel close enough to call you something like that. But… I'm sure you realize that before Hogwarts, the only… Well, I don't know if I'd ever call Uncle Vernon a father figure, though he was the main adult male in my life.

"Now, if Danny and the professor had no relationship, and he decided to call him 'uncle,' that would be a step closer than they were before.

"While that works for Danny, I don't think that would work for me. My uncle only hated me. For the first real father figure who told me he loves me to be called 'uncle'… I just don't see it."

"Very well thought out. Do you have any suggestions?"

Harry looked down. "No. I wouldn't know what else was appropriate."

The Slytherin thought for a moment. "I think I have a compromise of sorts. How about this… In more private, intimate moments, you may call me Severus, but in class or more formal occasions, you will stick to 'Professor.' And when in doubt, 'sir' will always be acceptable."

"That sounds fair… Severus," Harry tried it out.

"I think I like the sound of that for now. And about Professor Masters and calling him 'Uncle Vlad'… I dare say that he would be honored, but if I have the right of it, well, hmm. You should ask him first, in any event, but I believe he would be of the mind to let you call him Uncle Vlad in approximately the same situations I would let you call me Severus."

"Okay. Thanks, Severus. For everything."

"It's my pleasure, Harry." Severus put an arm around Harry's shoulder, and they sat in companionable silence for a bit, relaxing in what was sure to be a temporarily peaceful moment.

---

The half-ghosts had mixed emotions as they left for Clockwork's tower. Vlad was elated that his dearest dream had come true. Danny was relieved, and a bit bemused by his new name for Vlad. Vlad was curious about this mythical ghost whom his son (he loved even thinking that) had met on multiple occasions. Danny wasn't exactly sure what to think. He was both looking forward to seeing Clockwork, and he was a little afraid. At different points, Danny practiced speeches, lists of complaints or questions he had, but every last one of them flew from his head as they touched down on the tower's front porch.

The door opened, and Clockwork greeted them in middle-aged form. "Danny and Vlad – welcome. I've been expecting you."

"Merry Christmas, Clockwork," Danny ventured.

"A happy holiday season to you both. Please come in and make yourselves comfortable." They entered, and Vlad noticed what he thought would otherwise be a key rack holding a number of medallions with red ribbons and golden cogs with the emblem 'CW'. The round view screen showed scenes of Amity Park at this time.

A rattling sound caught Vlad's attention. He saw the green and silver Fenton Thermos. Danny paled. Vlad asked, "Is that…?"

"Yes, it is. Please don't."

Clockwork changed to child-form. "I understand congratulations are in order."

Danny smiled shyly. "Thanks, Clockwork."

Vlad raised an eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"I know everything." Vlad peaked his eyebrows. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of anyone knowing everything, but there wasn't much to be done about it.

Danny sighed. "You know, in July, I was angry. Everything you fixed for me was lost. Everything… except for me."

"That was a rather important exception. You have made many fine decisions. I like your last one best." Danny smiled.

Vlad looked at the mythical ghost who took an old man form. (He was right. Dumbledore did remind him of what Clockwork looked like. It was different, but his suspicions were right enough.) Vlad asked, "While I suppose I should be honored by your attention, why do you care so much about my son?" It felt good to say that!

"Because, Vlad, I am Danny's Guardian."

"I do that job quite nicely, thank you," Vlad sneered.

Clockwork changed back to middle-age. "Yes, Vlad, you do. You have done a very creditable job, and Danny – as I said – has made very fine choices. You have learned your lessons well, Danny." The boy blushed.

"But to answer your question, Vlad… Because of Danny's potential, and his great power, and the simple destructive ability the boy is capable of, he has been put on probation."

Vlad scowled. "How dare you?"

Turning into a child, Clockwork answered, "The threat to Danny was not my choice. If anything, I was able to use Danny's own choices to convince the Observants to let Danny live, learn, and grow. While Danny has great ability and strength, it can be used just as easily for great evil as it can for great good. Because I gave Danny a second chance, it is my responsibility to stop him, if need be. You said that you would. You cannot. Only I could." Danny's shoulders slumped.

Changing into an old man, Clockwork rested a hand on one of Danny's shoulders and looked in his eyes. "You have done admirably, and you used your grief to spur you on to greater acts of love. Everything is as it should be. Well done." Danny smiled at the compliment.

Vlad felt rather left out. It was wonderful that Clockwork gushed all over his son, but he had to be worth something, too. "Daniel told me about several occasions that time has been reset to accommodate him. Are other possible outcomes in time available to see here and now?"

"They are, but the one you wish to see does not have the happy conclusion you would hope for."

Vlad spluttered. "But… but how do you know?"

"I've seen that possibility to its logical conclusion. You will be far more satisfied with events as they happened."

"But… but what might have happened if Maddie fell for me instead of Jack?"

Danny grimaced. "Pápa, trust me. You really don't want to know. If Dad got hit with Ecto-acne and ghost powers instead of you, you would…"

Changing to middle-age, Clockwork warned, "Enough!"

Danny sighed. "Let's just say you wouldn't have trusted her the way you should have, 'cause… my parents were meant for each other." Clockwork raised an eyebrow, and Danny decided he said more than enough.

Vlad took a moment to absorb all of this. "Wait a minute. Daniel, have you actually seen this reality?"

"Yeah. The day Clockwork let me see what happened in that timeline was the day he let me find the cure for the Ecto-acne. You said you might have liked life that way, but I don't think you did."

Clockwork didn't want Vlad to know about that alternate reality. Daniel knew of it, but whatever Clockwork's relationship to the boy was, it was more authoritative than Vlad's own. Part of Vlad wanted to crow with pride for Daniel, while another part scowled in jealousy.

"Well… since you won't let me know too much about it, could I ask a question about that time line?"

Turning into a child, Clockwork said, "Only one."

"In that time line, did we have Daniel?"

Danny sighed. "Vlad, in that time line, you had no children. Not me, not Jazz, no children at all."

Vlad mused aloud. "If I had Maddie, you said I wouldn't have trusted her, and we would have had no children. But here and now, I am without Maddie, but Daniel is my son, and we trust each other (mostly). Without knowing more than that, I think I already like this reality better."

Clockwork smiled. "I told you – everything is as it should be."

Danny thought for a moment. "Clockwork, what happens with Voldemort?"

"That depends. There are several outcomes where he wins, but there are more outcomes where he is defeated." He changed into an old man. "If Voldemort had not allowed his Death Eaters to attack Amity Park, at least one outcome involves Harry defeating Voldemort, but it also involves the death of Albus Dumbledore, and Harry and Severus never develop their currently growing relationship, and Severus dies ignominiously. Harry would have appreciated him after the fact, but not before hating him until Severus's dying day."

"Wow… we really changed everything. But some things… Maybe it's better this way."

Clockwork smiled again. "I like to think so. But who knows? Different choices lead to different outcomes."

Vlad narrowed his eyes. "But how do you know?"

The Master of Time sighed. "Most people see time like a parade. They see it marching by, and only see the route the parade has taken. I see time from above. I see all the possible twists and turns time might take. What actually happens is up to the people making choices. However, the Observants get insistent that I do their dirty work if a ghost would purposely cause destruction and devastation." Turning to middle-age, he continued. "But the Observants do not see what I see."

In awe, Vlad couldn't help but ask, "Why did you choose to invite us today?"

"Danny is a delightful young man, and I missed him. Also, I wanted to meet the man who could have been responsible for Danny turning Dark, or be his biggest proponent to keep him in the Light. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that a great deal relies on Danny's choices, but you give him the grounding necessary to go on. You are a very important individual, Vlad."

Vlad could have started to sing, but Clockwork bent to whisper so only Vlad could hear. "In October, you made some very important choices. Remember them."

Backing away, Clockwork smiled and turned into a child. "May I offer you some refreshments?"

---

The following morning, after a brief disagreement about whether to take Morph to the Far Frozen or leave her with the Ghostwriter (the Ghostwriter won the right to the company of the cat this time), Danny and Vlad left for the Far Frozen. "Pápa, you said they call me 'the Great One.' What do they call you?"

Vlad peaked his eyebrows. "I believe the title I left with was 'the Guardian of the Great One.' It was better than the one I started with."

Danny stopped and looked at Vlad. "If they think all that about me, and considering our relationship before July, I could imagine."

Grabbing Danny's forearm and dragging him forward in flight, Vlad growled, "Never mind that now. Come!"

Unfamiliar with this section of the Ghost Zone, Danny informed, "I don't think I've ever been this way before."

"It is rather out of the way, and if the Ghostwriter didn't show it to me on a map, I might never have found it."

Danny enjoyed the wonder of the ice formations in the cave. The idea that he was going somewhere new in the Ghost Zone to meet unfamiliar ghosts brought no dread or anxiety, and it was a novelty. It was weird – he had come to the Ghost Zone countless times, but until now, his first time anywhere was a confrontation. Here, he would not only meet ghosts who liked him, but ghosts who were willing to help him use his ice powers.

At the lowest floor of the ice cave, Danny and Vlad were approached by two yeti-like ghosts. "The Great One is here! You have fulfilled your promise, Plasmius." Vlad noticed the people of the Far Frozen had gone into ecstasy over meeting Daniel, though they were still cool to him. Sugar plums! Well, at least they weren't calling him 'Tormentor' anymore.

Trumpets were blown to herald their arrival. Danny murmured, "I've never had a real fanfare before."

Vlad sighed. In the distance, he could see Frostbite. "That one with the translucent arm is the ruler of these people, Frostbite."

"What's wrong, Pápa?"

Vlad grimaced. "Let's just say these people don't like me very much."

The yeti ghosts were big and closed the distance rapidly. "Welcome, Great One. It is a pleasure to receive you in our homeland, Danny Phantom."

"Uh… thanks?"

Bowing deeply, the leader said, "I am Frostbite, ruler of the Far Frozen."

"Hi." Funny thing – he never asked Dora how to act when introduced as royalty to royalty.

Vlad looked at his awkward son and realized he was going to have to get things started. Rolling his eyes, he took a breath. "Oh, Great Ruler, Daniel is as of yet unfamiliar with courtly ways."

"Ah, never fear. Not a problem. Would you care to see the humble shrine we have built, to honor you and your defeat of the Ghost King?"

Danny gasped. "Professor Binns told me… Um, that sounds cool. What do you say, Pápa?"

Frostbite was taken aback. "Why do you call your tormentor by this name?" Vlad huffed.

"My… Vlad said as much. Yeah. Well, since July, when… my family was killed, Vlad agreed to be my guardian. We've had a few bumps in the road, but since he's done such a good job, I asked him to adopt me. He agreed." He smiled at Vlad, who smiled back, proudly and possessively.

"But why would you agree to such a thing?"

Danny's awkwardness returned. "Because, Mr. Frostbite, Vlad's only asked me this since we discovered we were half-ghosts. He's been teaching me all kinds of things, and we've grown to love each other like father and son. So… Vlad asked me to call him Pápa, and so I do. (It still sounds weird, but he asked me to, so I'm working on it.)"

"You are a fortunate man and ghost, Vlad Plasmius."

"I know I am."

Frostbite nodded. "Very good, then. We will take the skiffs to the shrine, and then to the palace for refreshments. Later, we look forward to helping to train you in your ice powers, Great One."

As they rode, Vlad noticed Danny, who sat seriously disconcerted as they traveled over the ice and snow. "What's wrong, little badger? You had no problem at Aragon."

Danny grimaced. "That's different. There, it's more like play-acting. It's cool to pretend to be a knight in the Dark Ages, and then Dora made me one. But the only ones who really care about it are Dora and her mindless ghost servants. Here, this is real. The Far Frozen are real people who are treating me like a king or a prince. It's not that Dora isn't real. She is. But she treats me like we're the same. This is…" Danny spread his arms, making small circles to emphasize that the concept was bigger than his emotional vocabulary. Vlad put an arm around his shoulder.

"Modesty is a virtue, Great One." Danny whipped his head in Frostbite's direction. "We will try not to overwhelm you. But we truly are grateful to you for the heroics you've performed, and the many deeds of goodness and valor you keep doing."

"Mr. Frostbite, I've been away from heroic activity for months."

Frostbite smiled. "Perhaps. But ghosts have long memories, and we do not forget. Not that your efforts on our behalf were all that long ago…"

Vlad raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Get used to it, Daniel. Where is your Slytherin cunning? There are so many ways to use this to your advantage…"

"Pápa!"

Vlad laughed to put his son at ease. However, he stored this information and Daniel's reaction to it away for better use. He could work with this.

Danny was at once fascinated and humbled by the care and consideration the people of the Far Frozen put into this shrine dedicated to him. The cave paintings depicted the Awakening of Pariah Dark (Vlad was truly thankful there was no picture of him in the midst of the biggest gaffe in recent history), the Fright Knight with his sword in the high school football field, the ghost shield around Amity Park in the Ghost Zone, and a depiction of Danny battling the Ghost King, wearing the Ecto-skeleton. The graphic pictures were amazingly accurate, if somewhat crude, especially for people who weren't even there.

"Can I ask a question?"

Frostbite smiled. "Always, Great One."

"Well… I realize that a ghost taking over the world is bad news. Tyrants don't serve the world for the better, as far as the ruled are concerned. But – dude – why was this so very important?"

"Ah, young Danny. You have seen that different ghosts have different specialties. There is the odd one who chooses to be overly ambitious, but for the most part, ghosts like to be left alone, to their assorted interests. With a few exceptions, ghosts don't specifically use their powers against each other, as it is largely a 'live and let live' society in the Ghost Zone. Or, what passes for living.

"If a random ghost is powerful enough to take advantage of other ghosts, it is usually a matter of minor importance to stop the nuisance." Danny thought the ghosts locked in Walker's prison, or were held captive by Prince Aragon might feel differently about the matter, but Danny couldn't deny that these situations did seem out of the ordinary.

Frostbite continued, "Most ghosts are more powerful outside the Ghost Zone, not because of great power, but because they have powers that humans don't.

"Then, there are ghosts who are much more powerful or have specialized talents and knowledge such that they could easily hurt other ghosts. Elsewhere in our realm, we have a medical facility. We've spent thousands of years learning, exploring, and working with ghost biology, human biology, and other biology. I believe our technology would rival that of your parents, Danny, or even your own, Vlad. While the things in your assorted labs are quite advanced and have weaponized possibilities heretofore undreamed of in the Ghost Zone, we have developed medicinal treatments and medical procedures for ghosts just as unknown in the human world. If we chose to use our knowledge against ghosts, they would be mostly helpless before us. But we choose to use our resources to our benefit, and the benefit of our friends and allies."

Frostbite looked grim. "And then there is Plasmius. He is one of the most powerful ghosts in existence, lesser only to the Ghost King, Clockwork, and the Observants. Perhaps Vortex too, but we would have to see." He privately kept the idea that perhaps the Fright Knight was equal to him, or with a concerted effort, the people of the Far Frozen could over come him if necessary. Directing his gaze to Danny, Frostbite said, "He's been known to use his powers for self-serving ends. We're just glad he doesn't seem to care about the affairs of ghosts."

Frostbite smiled and put a hand on Danny's back. "And then, there you are, Great One. With time and practice, you will surpass even your guardian in power. And all of us know that in your encounters with your adversaries, you only use enough force to subdue your antagonists. Though you could probably do a great deal of damage if you chose, you only use your power for what you perceive to be the greatest good. But the absolute mark of your greatness, Danny, is that in any number of situations where you could have chosen not to act, you take it upon yourself to protect whom you perceive needs to be protected, even when it is detrimental to yourself or your image. You keep doing the right thing."

Danny murmured, "I do what's right, rather than what's easy."

Vlad smiled proudly. "Exactly."

Frostbite nodded. "Indeed. And you fought and defeated Pariah Dark, who is otherwise undefeatable. The Ancients managed it, but they caught him by surprise. You ended what could have been a reign of terror and destruction of any who did not bow to his will. He could have destroyed you and Vlad, and then I shudder to think where we would be. But you, Danny, went above and beyond the call of duty. That is why we, here in the Far Frozen, revere you as the Great One." He bowed his head in respect.

Danny's eyes went wide. "Dude…" He was officially overwhelmed.

Vlad gave him about one full minute, and then rescued his son. "Now that we've all acknowledged my son's greatness, who's up for some hot chocolate?"

They headed back to the palace, enjoying refreshments and a bit of warmth. Over the course of the next few days, they tested Danny, marveling at how far he had come, and set in for serious training in ways that Vlad could only admire as he watched. The things these yetis could demonstrate were truly amazing, and they made sure Daniel could do them, too.

They took a tour of the medical facilities, and Danny and Vlad were blown away by what appeared to be a top of the line hospital that was fully functional. Students observed as doctors were trained. There were lots of things Danny recognized, but there were several clear tubes that had purposes Danny couldn't begin to guess.

"What are those for?"

Frostbite smiled. "These are chambers used to normalize body temperature. This is the Far Frozen, but if a creature came into our realm, and could not stand the cold… The creature's body would be immersed in warm water until its temperature had normalized to a healthy range. It also helps to cool a body with a dangerous fever."

Vlad said, "I've seen a similar apparatus to normalize pressure for deep sea divers."

"It is based on a similar principle."

While many things, machines, and other equipment puzzled Danny, he imagined that someone unfamiliar with normative human biology might be equally puzzled by equipment NASA would use to get astronauts ready for space travel.

Frostbite longed to share the secret of the Infi-Map with his hero, but he did not trust Vlad. Danny would use it; Vlad would abuse it. But now that Danny was the son of Plasmius… Danny was still trustworthy, but if there was a hint it would get back to Vlad, it was better to let Danny remain ignorant.

The five days flew by, where Danny was trained (he couldn't wait to show Professor Flitwick what he could do now!), and the people of the Far Frozen worked to temper the disparity in how they treated the two half-ghosts. They still didn't trust Plasmius, but it was obvious that he cared for, and even loved the boy he now called his son. Further, Danny seemed to love him in return. Very few things among ghosts change (besides skill and technological development), but Danny and Vlad were not just ghosts; they were also human, and humans can change. It wasn't often that even humans changed from arch-nemeses to a loving parent/child relationship, but it was possible.

Early on December 31, the people of the Far Frozen gave a royal send-off to the Great One, Danny Phantom, and Vlad Plasmius, Father of the Great One. They only had love for Danny, but they had considerably more good will for Vlad than they did when they first came.

---

On December 31, at about five o'clock, there was a knock on the Weasleys' front door. Harry grinned. "Oh, it's them."

Mrs. Weasley, Professor Snape, and Harry came to the door. Mrs. Weasley asked, "Who is it?"

"Professor Masters and Daniel."

Molly reached to open it, but Arthur said, "Remember the security questions."

Molly groused, but capitulated. "Yes, dear. Danny, dear, what book did you last discuss with Harry?"

Startled by the personal nature of the question, Danny answered, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The science is supposed to be bad, but when I read far enough into the series, I'll figure out why 'Be afraid. Be very afraid,' is supposed to be funny."

Harry smiled. "Yup. That's Danny."

Professor Snape smirked. "And now for the Professor. Vlad, when was the first time you met Daniel?"

Vlad sighed. "It will be two years this Martin Luther King Day celebration. I planned a holiday weekend for my 20th year college reunion, so that the Fentons could have sufficient travel time."

Danny looked up at Vlad. "That's really the reason?"

"Of course it was. How else could I get Jack to bring your family to my home in the middle of a school year, leaving a day and a half travel time each way?"

The door opened, and Danny and Vlad's world turned red. Molly Weasley greeted them warmly. "Danny! Professor Masters! It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Come in and get warm."

The two half-ghosts entered what appeared to be an eclectic collection of building styles that managed to stay solid and vertical because magic held it together. Inside, the house exuded 'home and comfort.'

Vlad noted the many Weasleys behind the matron. Danny saw the twins and smiled. He didn't know everyone, but he could be at home here. Vlad said, "The pleasure is all ours, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for inviting us with such little notice." He kissed her hand, and she blushed.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley."

Molly held both of Danny's hands. "Danny. You look almost exactly like Harry. Well, my boys, Harry, and Professor Snape have only glowing things to say about you."

"Thank you for saying so." He looked at Harry and Ron, who smiled at him. Professor Snape smiled proudly at his prized pupil.

Danny looked uncertainly about him. He recognized Harry and Professor Snape, the two dark-haired islands in the sea of redheads. He knew Ron, Ginny, and the twins. And now he met Mrs. Weasley. There was Remus Lupin, two more large redheaded men to meet, and a very pretty blonde woman near the one with an earring. Was that a fang?

Molly said, "This is my husband, Arthur."

Arthur smiled at both Vlad and Danny. "Welcome, Professor. Welcome, Danny." Mr. Weasley shook both of their hands firmly.

"Thank you, sir." The Christmas party was bigger, but it felt like there were more people here in a smaller space.

Ron nudged Harry. "We've had our share of insanity around her. Let's see what Danny makes of Fleur when he meets her." Harry looked sympathetically at Danny and the professor, who were about to meet Bill and Fleur. Even part Veelas had a weird effect on men.

Mrs. Weasley beamed. "And this is Bill, my oldest, and his fiancée Fleur Delacour."

Bill shook hands with Vlad, while Danny greeted Fleur, taking her hands. "It's nice to meet you, Fleur."

The twins held themselves from laughing as they watched Harry's interested gaze and Ron's gobsmacked expression. Ron blurted, "That's it?"

Danny looked at Ron. "Is what it?"

"But… but…"

Fred grinned wickedly. "We'll settle up later, Ron. Good call, Harry."

Annoyed, Danny asked Fleur, "Do you know what their problem is?"

She smiled kindly at him. "You are charming, Danny. They are puzzled because you act like a gentleman."

Danny glared at Ron. "And why wouldn't I?" It's true, he went a little bonkers about Paulina, but she was not only gorgeous, she was his age and available. But dude – as pretty as Fleur was, she was introduced as Bill's fiancée. What did they think he'd do?

Bill put a hand on his shoulder. "It's nothing personal, Danny. Fleur is part Veela, and she often has an interesting effect on men."

Danny frowned and crossed his arms. "An interesting effect? I mean no offense, but it's not like I've never seen a pretty girl before." Fleur laughed lightly and kissed his cheek.

Harry sighed. "That's not it, Danny. It's… Well, when Fleur was one of the Tri-Wizard Champions," Danny looked up at her again. "Most of the blokes from school tried crazy stunts to impress her. It's part of the magic of the Veela. It…" Harry blushed. "Unsuspecting fellows are often enchanted and entranced."

Danny shrugged. "I'm sure you're enchanting, Fleur, but I don't see what everyone's going nuts about." He blushed. "I mean, I'm sure you're worth it, but I don't see why as big a fuss isn't made over Ginny. She's pretty, too. Besides the fact that almost everyone here's related to her."

Fleur laughed again. "You are so sweet, Danny. It is a pleasure to have met you."

Ginny, who sat as far away from Fleur as it was possible to be without being rude, smiled to herself. Danny compared her beauty to Fleur's. If she wasn't as interested in Harry as she was, she might have kissed him.

Severus smiled from the other side of the room. 'He really doesn't see it. Interesting. Being a half-ghost cancels the effect of a part-Veela. I'll be sure to make a note of it.'

Vlad was amused by the stir being made. He made mention of Veelas in class, but it was not as in depth as the other humanoids discussed in class. Veelas were not considered Dark creatures.

George noticed that Danny was a good kid, and didn't appreciate the intrigue being had at his expense. He decided to lighten Danny's mood. "So you think our esteemed sister is pretty, do you?"

Ginny moved into position to kick George's shin, if necessary.

"I do. My sister also had red hair."

George directed Danny to a chair. The mood had indeed changed, but this was an unexpected direction. "I haven't heard of your siblings before."

Danny gave a sad smile. "There was only me and my older sister, Jazz. She was a lot like my mother."

Ginny perched on the arm of a nearby couch. "What was your sister like?"

"Well… She would have been about the twins' age. She was smart. My parents were geniuses, and so was she. It was kinda hard to grow up in their shadow, but she took being an older sibling very seriously. She was always very protective. Usually over-protective, and sometimes a little stuck-up, but she always meant well."

Danny didn't notice the audience gathering around him. "There was one time a ghost decided to pester me. At home, that was nothing new, but this one used his powers to be invisible to adults, or anyone who thought like an adult. Jazz was only two years older than me, but she always acted more mature. (Unless she won a game. Really – don't ask.) Because no one but me could see it, she thought I was nuts. She arranged a family trip to get away from the insanity of pressures from school and life in general."

Danny sighed. "The lengths she went to so she could protect me from myself were not to be believed. I did trick her into an immature frame of mind, but it worked – she saw the ghost and realized what danger it presented. Together, we captured it and we… rendered it harmless. But I couldn't have done it without her. I miss Jazz."

Harry stood close and put an arm around his shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Looking up, Danny gave Harry a half-smile. "Thanks."

Vlad said, "Indeed. Jasmine was growing to be very much like your mother. Also, your sister was a fair hand at psychology."

"I know, Pápa."

Ron and Ginny stared at Danny. Harry smiled; the way their relationship was growing, getting that far was only a matter of time. Fleur practically glowed. "You called the professeur Papá."

"He asked me to."

Professor Snape eyed Vlad distrustfully. "What is this?"

Vlad stood on Danny's other side, putting a hand on Danny's back and smiled down at him. "My Christmas present. Daniel asked me to formally adopt him."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Interesting. Remember what I said in October, Vlad."

Rolling his eyes, Vlad said, "Of course I do, Severus. Daniel surprised me." He put a hand on Danny's head. Danny sighed – he imagined he should have let the professor know ahead of time, but he didn't see how. Danny realized that Vlad touched him a lot more often than Dad did.

Vlad maneuvered behind him and dropped both hands on Danny's shoulders. "At first, I didn't dare believe it. But after many assurances, Daniel told me that he honestly wanted me to adopt him. It's almost too good to be true." He massaged Danny's back with his thumbs. Oh, Vlad could definitely get used to this! When Danny sighed again, Vlad realized that Daniel could also get used to this.

"Vlad, do you mind?" Or not.

While Danny was getting used to Vlad's much more tactile affection, a massage in front of other people was too much.

Stowing his thumbs for a simple grip, Vlad winced. "Yes, of course." He liked the term of endearment, and when Daniel didn't use it, Vlad realized he overstepped a boundary.

Severus was quietly amused, as were the many adults in the room. This fledgling parent/child relationship would be interesting to watch as it developed.

Molly invited them to dinner, and Danny found himself between Vlad and Remus. As food was passed around and Vlad spoke to whoever was on his other side, Danny asked, "Mr. Lupin?"

He smiled. "Please call me Remus, Danny. But what can I do for you?"

Danny held onto a roll for a second and then asked quietly, "How do wizards celebrate New Year's? I mean, I just don't see anyone watching Dick Clark and the ball falling in Time Square."

Remus smiled. He heard of Time Square. Dick Clark was beyond him. "It's different per family. Usually, after dinner, there are light family entertainments. Many families spell a bell to ring in the New Year at midnight. Then, people often make resolutions, and drink champagne to help forget them." Danny snickered.

"With a few technical details, it doesn't sound all that different from a Muggle New Year's Eve party."

"A party is a party, and a gentle family gathering can be quite pleasant."

That gave Danny something to think about.

---

After midnight, the Weasleys and Fleur turned in. Vlad, Danny, Remus, Severus, and Harry had not yet moved because of inertia. Enjoying an extra round or two of tea, they sat around the otherwise cleared kitchen table. Harry and Danny already volunteered to wash up afterwards.

"I've been meaning to ask, but I was afraid of being rude." Danny observed, "I've noticed there's nothing like a star or angel, or something on top of the tree. How come?"

Harry grinned. "Well… When Fred picked carrots from the garden on Christmas Eve, a gnome bit his finger. Fred…" Harry had to fight down a giggle. "Fred Stunned the gnome, trussed it up, dressed it in a tutu, painted it gold, and stuck it on top of the tree. I was the only one to mention it, but after two days, Severus released it. Gnomes might be annoying, but two days was more than sufficient to punish it for the bite. After that, no one was interested enough to find a replacement ornament."

Vlad said, "Ah, so it's 'Severus,' now?"

Professor Snape responded, "Interesting that it happened around the time you became 'Pápa,' isn't it?"

Danny and Harry blushed in unison. Remus rescued them. "It is a testament to the developments of your relationships. If you don't mind my saying so, I think it's beautiful, and they should both continue to grow."

"Hmm." Vlad murmured.

Severus put a finger to his lips. "Until romance wings its way into the scenario, I suppose the family circle is complete for now."

Harry and Remus jerked their heads. Danny looked thoughtful, and Vlad smirked, and said, "I thought as much."

This unexpected mention of family helped Harry pluck up his Gryffindor courage (it had been a week since the last time he gave it a major workout), and he took a breath. "Professor Masters?"

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry gulped. "Since Danny isn't using the name anymore, and he's more like a real cousin to me than Dudley is," Danny started. He'd been thinking that, but this was the first time anyone put it into words. "Would it be okay if I… called you Uncle Vlad?"

Vlad studied the young wizard. He believed that Daniel was, in fact, thinking of this type of family bonding with Harry and Severus, but Harry was bold enough and coherent enough to articulate it first. "A son and a nephew in one holiday season? I would be honored to have you call me thus. However, you may feel more comfortable with this while amongst just us, or your more intimate friends. Regardless, I think I like the sound of that, from you."

Danny stared at his teacup. He wasn't sure…

"Daniel." Danny looked up at Professor Snape. "Since you are the one who decided that Harry and I…" Severus turned to see Lupin and scowled when the wolf smiled. "And, I suppose Remus, by extension, are your family, it would be perfectly reasonable and acceptable for you to call me Uncle Severus."

The young Slytherin smiled shyly. "Thanks. I've been thinking about this for a while, but I couldn't… Just thanks."

Remus Lupin looked at the four of them. "But…"

Harry smiled. "It took all of us months to figure this out. You were one of my Dad's best mates. We'll figure out a name for you soon enough, Moony."

Remus was comforted.

51