"Ouch," Harry winced in sympathy as he watched the broomstick accident.
"Why did you think this would be a good idea?" Hermione asked. "He's never flown before now and you wanted him to try out for Quidditch in an hour?"
"I thought he might be a natural," Harry answered, getting up off the empty stands, keeping his right hand in his robe pocket. "Like I was."
"Why on earth did you think that?" Hermione joined her friend as they went off to assist the downed flyer.
"I dunno," Harry shrugged. "Instinct I guess."
As the two of them marched down to the dark haired boy currently groaning on the grass, holding half of a snapped broomstick, Harry thought to himself that he had been half right. During Danny's brief flight, the American had shown all the right instincts. The problem was that he couldn't move his broom and his body in accord.
It was almost like he was trying to fly without his broom...
"You okay mate?" Harry asked when reached the boy, kneeling down and hoisting him up by his shoulders.
Danny looked down at his hand, which now consisted of a great deal more wood.
"How about we go to the Hospital Wing so I can get all these splinters removed, and then we never try this again."
"Hurry up, you don't want to miss the tryouts," Hermione hissed as they hurried down the castle steps, Harry dressed in his Quidditch robes and carrying his broomstick on his shoulder, right hand carefully kept out of sight.
"I can afford to be a bit late," Harry replied. "We aren't doing tryouts for my position, and as long as I arrive before the candidates actually start flying, Angelina shouldn't get mad."
"That's not the point," Hermione hissed back. "We don't want to miss- oh never mind, you'll see."
"I'll see what?" Harry gave his friend a confused look.
Hermione didn't reply. She merely carried on in her usual brusque and bossy manner, forcing Harry to hurry along with sheer force of personality. They reached the Quidditch pitch in under ten minutes, just as Angelina was finishing her talk to the hopeful potential team members.
Harry caught a glimpse of red hair among the individuals trying out and suddenly realized why Hermione had wanted to hurry down. Ron was trying for the position of Keeper. Harry felt a stab of some unpleasant emotion in his stomach, guilt most likely. He really should have known before now.
"How did you know?" Harry asked his bushy haired friend.
"I looked at the little details," came Hermione's answer. "Now hurry over there."
Harry dashed to join the rest of the team, already lined up and looking the potential Keepers. Fred and George were busy boggling at Ron, surprised that he was among those waiting to try out.
Harry gave Ron a grin and a victory sign, feeling a nervousness that hadn't been there before he suddenly discovered that he had a stake in the outcome of the Keeper tryouts.
"You were bloody brilliant," Harry said to Ron in Gryffindor common room, as the trio relaxed in some plush armchairs. "Great to have you on the team."
"That was worse than any test," Ron sank a bit deeper into his chair. "Still, I'd do that a hundred times over to get on the team."
"My question is, why did they only hold Keeper tryouts?" Hermione asked. "I mean shouldn't they hold tryouts for every position, every year?"
"It's the team captain's prerogative," Harry answered. "In this case Angelina decided to stick with what worked for Wood for years."
Harry thought for a moment.
"Well, worked for one year," the boy-who-was-scarred corrected himself. "Though I maintain that if it wasn't for circumstances involving possessed teachers, a basilisk, and an international tournament, Gryffindor would have won the cup for four years in a row."
"Well, if your Quidditch schedules allow," Hermione sat up a little straighter as she addressed the two, "I thought that tomorrow we could begin the experiments on the pure ectoplasm that the Fentons provided."
Harry and Ron looked at each other and sighed.
"I've got a little free time tomorrow," Harry wearily answered, not wanting to add to his workload.
"If you demote me to a thug, would I still have to help?" Ron asked hopefully.
"Good and no. A thug would be useful for carrying heavy testing equipment." Hermione smirked. "Sorry."
"Curses. I've got no choice then."
"Don't worry, you can keep your rank of minion," Hermione reassured him. "I'll even give you more responsibility."
Danny walked over as Ron groaned.
"So why exactly why were you planning on having me try out for Quidditch, competing against your best friend after my first time flying?" The secret halfa asked his wizarding associates.
Ron gaped at Harry.
"At the time I didn't know Ron was trying out," Harry informed Danny. "And I was thinking that you might be a natural."
"Why would you think that anyone who had just flown a broom for the first time could try out for a house team not even two hours later?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.
"Hey that's how I got on the team," Harry replied. He shrugged. "It was just a hunch."
"Well your hunch got me a couple hours in the Hospital wing and a handful of splinters," Danny shot a glance at Harry's hand. "Though at least mine isn't doing that weird thing yours is."
Harry's right hand was stuck in a slightly clawed position, twitching every now and then, one of his veins slowly throbbing. He drew it back a bit when Ron and Hermione's gaze shot over, but didn't hide it.
"Too many lines," Harry partially informed them. "It'll go away now that my detentions with Umbridge are over."
"Harry," Hermione leaned closer to him, her voice growing serious. "Stay away from her. Don't talk to her if you can avoid it. I don't know her game, but I know it can't lead to anything good for you."
"Too bad we don't have any Polyjuice Potion," Ron said. "Next time she's making you do lines I could fill in for you."
Harry felt his stomach fall out from under him at Ron's words. The thought of his friend having to go through one of Umbridge's detentions. The thought of them finding out what actually happened. Both possiblities were enough to make Harry pale.
"Harry," Hermione must have noticed him pale as her voice grew concerned. "Is something wrong?"
"Just the thought of him putting his foot in his mouth as me," Harry joked, trying to brush away his fear and his friend's concern.
"Hey!" Ron protested. "I'm not that tactless."
"Don't worry, I'm in the same boat," Danny patted Ron's shoulder. "One day we'll discover how to avoid offending people."
"Oh laugh it up," Ron huffed.
"Before I forget," Hermione said, "Danny I'm going to need to talk tomorrow. Be sure to stop by the common room after 9:00 at night."
"Alright," Danny replied. "What do you need?"
"I'll tell you tomorrow," Hermione answered. "There are some things I need to find out first."
She glanced at Harry's hand.
"Maybe more than I thought."
Harry bemoaned the loss of his hours silently as he pushed the last dragon blood candle into place. He had more anatomy to study, more assignments in other classes to complete, more Occulmency to practice, more fantasies of Umbridge, Voldemort, and Snappe suffering to have, more blasting spells to practice, and Quiditich to practice with Ron. The last place he wanted to be was in one of the dungeon labs, moving heavy spell apparatuses.
But Harry, the dutiful friend that he was, helped his red headed friend carry the heavy dragon blood candle to a chalk circle that was part of a much larger chalk diagram, all to please their mutual bushy-haired friend.
"That's good," Hermione noted. "We're almost done. We just need to sprinkle a bit of pixie dust mixed with pixie blood here and move the last water filled silver cauldron there."
"I know which one she's going to do," Harry muttered under his breath.
"Well, since we can't use magic to move these it does make sense for her to do the easy lifting," Ron replied, missing Harry's intent. Harry didn't bother to correct him. Instead he merely grabbed the cauldron and helped Ron carry it to the designated spot.
"Alright," Hermione clapped her hands together when they were done moving the heavy object for her. "So today we're going to be doing some comparative spectral analysis, looking closely at Keley's Third Rule regarding wavelengths of sustained exomagic reactions and substances."
Had it been night and had they been outside the only sound would have been the chirping of crickets. But alas, they were indoors during the day and thus silence was the only thing to greet Hermione, who seemed to deflate a little.
"Never mind then. Harry- just go stand in the center circle," Hermione pointed to the spot. "Ron, I need you to take the Fenton's container and be ready to pour some of the ectoplasm out onto the north spot on the outer circle."
"Why do you need me here?" Harry asked, indicating the center circle as he and Ron complied.
"I'm going to need you to cast your Patronus when I say so," Hermione informed him. "And if this test turns out like I think it will, then you're going to have to do it for a lot more experiments."
"Why?" Harry questioned.
"As I mentioned before, after looking at our other test results I noticed some similarities between the pure ectoplasm and Patronus residue during the first stage of decomposition-" Hermione began.
"Wait, Patronus leave residue?" Harry had never noticed that.
"Very small amounts that decompose very, very, quickly," Hermione answered before continuing, "-anyway, the similarities-"
"We're not going to understand and didn't you say that you didn't want to tell us so we wouldn't be biased when looking at the results?" Ron interjected.
"Right," Hermione flushed. "Sorry, I got a bit carried away. Let me just get my journal, there it is, and now we can start. Harry, if you will."
"Right," Harry drew his wand. Happy thoughts. "Here's to Voldemort and Umbridge having it out in the middle of a horde of ravenous dragons! Expecto Patronum!"
Nebulous silver mist flowed out of his wand instead of a silver stag erupting in a blaze of silver light.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Harry apologized instantly. "We don't have to set this all up again, do we?"
"No, I didn't start my spell yet," Hermione answered. "I thought you could do a corporal Patronus on demand now?"
"Guess my thoughts weren't happy enough. Though I can't think of what's happier than Voldemort and Umbridge being eaten by dragons." Harry smiled wanly, ignoring the sudden heavy numbness inside him. He knew how to do this charm. He had no problem with it anymore. This must have just been a fluke.
"Here's to- Malfoy the bouncing ferret! Expecto Patronum!" Even though the man responsible for that bit of merriment had been the man who brought back Voldemort.
More silver mist.
"Crabbe and Goyle running from a rat! Expecto Patronum!" Said rat had also helped return Voldemort to the living world.
Silver mist again.
"Umbridge being kissed by dementors! Expecto Patronum!" The last time he had seen dementors was when he had seen the human side of his cousin. And if she was kissed by dementors, then she could never become the person who would apologize for what she had done.
Mist once more.
"Winning the Quidditch cup! Expecto Patronum!" That year he had lost his chance at living his his godfather.
Nothing but mist.
"Harry, mate, what's wrong with you today?" Ron asked, looking concerned.
"Nothing, nothing, nothing," Harry replied hastily. "It's sometimes harder to do this on a whim." It wasn't a lie exactly. Being in the presence of an actual dementor helped, but he could normally do this charm outside of that condition.
Ron was worried. Ron was here, despite the persecution from Ministry and newspaper. His friends were here.
That was the only happy thought he'd ever need.
"Expecto Patronum!" This time a brillant silver stage erupted from his wand, the true form of his Patronus.
"Starting the experiment." Even as Hermione spoke candles lit themselves and the chalk lines began to glow. "Ron, pour the ectoplasm!"
The light from the glowing white ectoplasm was lost in the already present light as Ron poured a small amount out of the Fenton's high tech container. All of the light shone upward and began to form runes in the air. Hermione quickly jotted them down as they appeared, filling the room with the sound of her quill scratching on the pages of her journal.
A minute passed before Hermione spoke again.
"Alright Harry you can stop the spell now. The experiment is over." The candles went out and the chalk lines vanished. Harry let his spell end, leaving the room darker for it.
"Lumos." Hermione's wand lit up. "Harry, are you okay?"
"Course," Harry replied, honest for the moment. "The spell can be a bit finicky some times. What did you find out?"
"Nothing yet," Hermione told him glancing down at her book. "We should be able to start going over the results tomorrow."
"Well, I'm glad that's over with," Ron clapped his hands together. "Now I say that we should head off-"
"Nice try, but you've still got to help put all the equipment back, minion."
"Drat."
The last hours of the day were ticking away as Ron and Harry sat in the common room once more.
"You know I don't think we appreciate just how comfy these chairs are," Harry said.
"Sure we do mate," Ron replied. "Think of all the times we've come back from some ordeal and plopped down in these chairs and let them take care of our aching bodies."
"I honestly thought more of our ordeals ended up with us in the Hospital Wing rather than here." Harry slumped down a little more into the chair and sighed contentedly.
"Usually that's you," Ron reminded him. "I get the chairs instead."
"And you get jealous of me when you get these comfy chairs and I get the hospital beds." Harry tutted. "Strange. So why do you think Hermione wanted us here when she talks to Danny?"
"The only clue I ever have with that girl is that it's going to involve extra work." Ron answered. "And she's always so bloody eager to get at it too. It drives me bonkers sometimes."
"Regretting knocking out that troll?" Harry asked, not at all serious.
"Not in a million years," Ron's reply was anything but joking.
They sat in comfortable silence for a minute or so before Hermione dragged Danny over. Hermione instinctively grabbed the last comfy chair, leaving Danny to drag over another chair, clearly inferior to the trio's chairs in terms of comfort, on which he'd have to suffer through the conversation.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Danny asked, refraining from rolling his eyes. He had enough experience with bossy people (i.e. Jazz) to know that doing so would lead to nothing good.
"It concerns how Defense Against the Dark Arts will be handled this year," Hermione informed him.
"I thought it wasn't," Danny fidgeted a little.
"It's not going to be handled by Umbridge," Hermione corrected. "But there are others who can handle it."
Harry and Ron sat up a little.
"Alright, here's my idea," Hermione began. "The Death Eaters are trying to use Umbridge and the Ministry to divide us over DADA lessons. So why don't we all come together, all the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and the Slytherins who don't have Death Eater connections, everyone in the school who won't be receiving DADA lessons, and we can teach each other. Harry, I know you're at least as good as a sixth year when it comes to most of the Defense curriculum, probably as good as a seventh year or better when it comes to some practical aspects, you could teach most of us. And the seventh years and the sixth years could teach you and you could help them teach us everything else."
"Use them as a common enemy to rally against," Ron said. "Make their attempt to divide us into something that unites us. Maybe even make us stronger that we would have been if they hadn't done anything. And Harry does all the work. I like it-"
"Sorry Ron, but you've been in enough trouble that you'd have to help teach," Hermione grinned wickedly. "Remember all that studying you did to help Harry with the last task of the Triwizard Tournament?"
"I knew that'd come back to bit me in the arse."
"Anyway, the reason I wanted you here Danny," Hermione said, "was so you wouldn't have to worry about learning how to defend yourself this year and so you could tell Sam about this."
"Seems reasonable," Danny shrugged his acceptance.
"And to use you as a teaching guinea pig."
"And there's the catch."
"Well we've already been doing that during the holidays," Hermione explained. "Which helped me come up with this idea in the first place. But when we're not doing full sessions, we could practice with you since you have trouble with the practical stuff."
"I swear my wand's defective," Danny grumbled.
"And we'll teach Sam as well. Then you two could go over what you've learned together, alone, in whatever secluded place we decide to practice," Harry said, grinning and dangling a metaphorical carrot in front of Danny.
The secret halfa blushed a brilliant scarlet.
"Though, when you say I'll be teaching everyone," Harry turned back to Hermione, "you mean you'll be coming up with the lesson plan, I do a practical demonstration when needed, and then go around helping people individually, right?"
"Uh, actually, I was thinking that'd you come up with the lesson plan," Hermione admitted, "as well as do all the other things you mentioned."
"Oh get off it," Harry retorted sharply. "I'm good for my year, but I'm not that good. Hermione you always beat me in tests-"
"No," Hermione shook her head. "You beat me our third year. The only year where we had both a competent teacher and a test."
"And let's not forget all the other things you did," Ron added. "You stopped You-Know-You from getting the Philosopher's Stone."
"I've heard about you defeating that basilisk in second grade," Danny jumped in. "Sorry, second year."
"Scared off hundreds of dementors your third year," Hermione said.
"Survived the Triwizard Tournament and You-Know-Who in that graveyard," Ron finished. "Face it mate-"
"I've always been scared and lucky all of those times," Harry glared at his friends and Danny. "Every time I've been as bloody incompetent as Fudge. I just did whatever I could think of and I always had help-"
"Like the other guys haven't," Danny retorted, smirking in a way that made him resemble Phantom a great deal more than usual. If Harry's temper hadn't been flaring up the boy-who-lived might have been curious about that. But at that time he only wanted to shout at people.
"Those hundreds of dementors had to have been helping each other," Ron was also grinning.
"What do you call Quirell and Crouch if not help?" Hermione joined the other two in grinning.
"You two don't know," Harry struggled to stop himself from shouting. "You two were never there to face him. It's not memorizing spells to throw at him; he'd just laugh them off. When he's there, not even doing anything, just standing around like he's waiting for tea, you know the whole time that there's nothing between you and death except guts and luck, and forget brains because they'll be pre-occupied by the thought of how you and your friends are seconds away from torture and death- that's something they don't teach in class. And you three grinning there, like I survived because I was special or clever, and Diggory died because he was stupid or something- Voldemort needed me or he'd have killed me too-"
"But you did survive," Danny quit grinning. "The world felt like it should've ended several times; you were hurting in places you didn't even know you had, you weren't sure what happened it was all just a blur, but you were alive and your friends were all right and you managed to get help just in time. And even though you know you shouldn't have done it the first time you managed to do it again."
Harry regarded Danny with a level gaze.
"From when you were helping Phantom?" Harry asked coolly and calmly.
"Or when I was trying to find him to get help," Danny's voice was level as well. "There was plenty of ghost stuff happening in Amity Park and that's not even counting the big events like Pariah Dark, or the times with the Wisconsin Ghost, or the evil future Phantom. I didn't start as young as you and the dangers we faced were different, but I can understand what you went through."
"Then you agree that the idea of me teaching their class is bonkers."
"No, I sorta get where they're coming from," Danny told Harry. "You know what it's like and no other student does. You know what's useful and what's not. You know which crazy ideas work and which good idea don't."
"Oh and what do you know about crazy ideas?" Harry asked, temper starting to grow again.
"Every tried slapping a belt meant to keep ghosts from touching you on a ghost?" Danny grinned again. "Didn't need Phantom's help that time."
"And how is that supposed to help me teach a class?"
"What two spells were the most useful last year in the graveyard?" Danny asked.
"Accio," Harry answered automatically. "And then Stupefy and Expelliarmus were tied for second."
"How were they useful?" Danny continued questioning.
"Got me the portkey out of the graveyard, stunned a mind controlled Krum, fought off a giant spider, and then Expelliarmus got me out of the grip of that spider." Harry didn't mention that he used it against Voldemort's Greater Killing Curse; it didn't matter what spell he used then, only that he had fought back.
"And then you can use that for a lesson plan," Hermione spoke up. "Expelliarmus and its uses. See, it's not as hard as you think."
"I still think the idea's barmey," Harry crossed his arms and huffed. "But I'll think about it." He'd probably write his godfather later asking for advice.
For a moment he didn't know who or what he was, or that he even existed. He was only aware of a strange pulling at the edge of his existence. And then Harry woke up a bit more and realized that something was attempting to intrude on his mind. Harry called upon his Occulemency training and repelled the invasion.
The presence recoiled and vanished. Harry murmured and then slipped back into the oblivion of sleep to remember nothing of the night's incidents by the next morning.
Most of the students at Hogwarts awoke late that Sunday as they always did. It was their last chance to sleep in and the homework could wait until after the evening meal. Out the few early risers most were up only for Hogwart's excellent breakfast and intended to return to a motionless existence once they had filled their stomachs.
Danny wished that he could count himself in their numbers as he wolfed down his breakfast. But no, he had to meet with Dumbledore today and continue helping the Order with minor tasks. The strain of sustaining multiple duplicates, a strain that he had hoped he wouldn't have to deal with during the school year, was starting to get to him as it had during the summer. He had to keep it up, people were depending on him.
It was somewhat harder now that he couldn't get as much help from Tucker; they didn't know who might be listening in on the other ends so they couldn't talk business. Sam was preoccupied by classes and her new House that he hadn't seen her for more than a few minutes at a time. But at least he could talk to Tucker again and he at least saw Sam for those few minutes.
He finished his breakfast without really tasting it and then slipped away so that he could go ghost and duplicate himself. He'd only need one duplicate to talk to Dumbledore while his other self worked on homework. This presented him with a small dilemma.
If he used the method of duplication that designated an 'original' (though 'prime' might have been a better word as Danny could change which him was the 'original') he would remember the conversation pretty well but he'd also have to deal with the memories of doing homework and one duplicate would have to be weaker than the 'prime'. On the other hand a different method would lead to less clear memories, but both of him would be at the same strength. This would come in handy in case he had to do anything strenuous.
But he wanted to spend time with Sam today and he wanted to keep those memories. So he made it so that the Danny in human form was the prime/original. Phantom flew away to see Dumbledore and Danny went to rush through his homework so he could see Sam.
"Lemon drop?"
"Do you always offer those things?" Danny Phantom asked as he politely hovered over a chair.
"I find it to be the polite thing to do," Dumbledore answered, eyes twinkling. "Tea?"
"No thanks," Danny waved away the offer. "So why did you want to talk to me?"
"Mainly to see how you are settling in after your first week at the castle with all of the students and to see if we need to make any accommodations," Dumbledore told him. "Seeing how we're asking you to spend so much time in a new environment. Do you have any questions or concerns that I could address?"
"Sort of," Danny said hesitantly. "That Umbridge woman that's teaching DADA..." He didn't know if it was really his place to bring up the topic, but after listening to Harry, Ron, and Hermione talking about what to do about her Danny wanted to get some information from another perspective. "... are you really alright with her not teaching most of the students?"
"I'm afraid my hands are tied," Dumbledore sighed, feeling the weight of his years, and the burdens of his self-appointed position as the leader of the opposition to the Dark. "There were no other candidates who could take the job whom I could risk. With the war going on my time is greatly restricted and running Hogwarts takes up a great deal of it even in times of peace. The amount of time I have to deal with the machinations of the Ministry is even less."
"However," Dumbledore continued, brightening slightly, "if I know my students as I think I do, I doubt they'll take the situation lying down."
"Yeah, they aren't," Danny said, thinking of what he had heard from Hermione earlier.
"If I had to guess, I would say you have been talking to Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore brightened up a bit more. "If I had to speculate further I'd say that they've taken the burden of ensuring that their classmates know how to defend themselves upon their own young shoulders."
"Pretty much. Are you sure there's nothing else you can do to help them?" Danny asked. "It just seems... unfair that they have to teach themselves this stuff."
"The world is unfair," Dumbledore folded his hands together on his desk, "but you are right. They should not have to teach themselves. But they should only have to put up with it for a year before getting a new professor."
"Why a year?"
"That's how long those who teach Defense Against the Dark Arts last," Dumbledore explained, leaning forward. "It's been a trend that's plagued my tenure as headmaster. Coincidentally it started after a Mister Tom Riddle, who would be later known as Voldemort, applied for the position and was refused."
Danny's eyes widened as he realized something.
"That's your plan isn't," the halfa also leaned forward, lowering his voice a little, like they were a pair of conspirators. "You're just going to let the curse get Umbridge and hope that Fudge is collateral damage."
"I hope that Fudge comes to his senses or that evidence of Voldemort's return is revealed to the public," Dumbledore answered. "I hope that all this trouble with the Ministry is resolved before the year is out and the students may receive some actual lesson from their teacher before their Ordinary Wizarding Levels."
"But if none of that happens?" Danny asked.
"Then Fudge can share the headache that the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher gives me," Dumbledore sighed. "If he wishes to play politics at Hogwarts, then he must learn to deal with the consequences."
"Oh."
"Are there any other questions or concerns?" Dumbledore leaned back in his chair.
"Well there's one thing I'm curious about," Danny said, also leaning back, realizing that he want to lean back further than the chair would allow, and then levitating himself so that he was floating over the chair. "How come Slytherin House is so bad?"
"There are several ways to interpret that question," Dumbledore didn't bother moving to levitate the chair under Danny and force the halfa to sit up. "You might be asking about their attitudes. You might be asking about their interactions with other students. You might be asking about why all the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort came from that house. "
"Uhh... yes?" Danny was slightly confused as he settled into the floating chair.
"To answer your question quickly and succinctly, the current state of Slytherin is due to the fact that a majority of the children of the Death Eaters are currently passing through it," Dumbledore's eyes quit twinkling. "Before the current surge of the offspring of the followers of Voldemort, Slytherin used to be a normal house. The Death Eaters' arrival is what changed the house and it is not only hurting the other houses, but everyone who isn't a Death Eater within their own house as well." The old man sighed.
"You will find some Slytherins that complain that they are discriminated against, that I and all the other teachers favor the other houses," Dumbledore continued. "Interestingly enough many of these Slytherins are the ones who go around calling muggle-borns mudbloods, threaten other students, curse, hex, and pick fights with their peers. Obviously, this costs their house points and reflects badly on the members of their house who don't participate in these activities. Of course when the malignant group complains about discrimination, they are often complaining that I do not cater to their prejudices, that they are punished for their wrong doings, and that I let their enemies succeed."
"But make no mistake," the twinkle was gone from the old wizard's eyes, "there is an undercurrent of resentment against the Slytherin house. Students from the other three houses are starting to unite against them. And it will only get worse as the war against Voldemort rages." Albus closed his eyes briefly. "The greatest victims of the malignant behavior might just be the innocent Slytherins who suffer for the actions of their peers."
Dumbledore was silent for a while as Danny took in everything Dumbledore had told him.
In a way Danny could relate to the Slytherins. It would be too easy to imagine his parents complaining about how the town treated them when it was their own strange behavior that caused it and made him and Jazz suffer. Of course his parents had never complained about that and Danny wasn't even sure if they had noticed how the town had treated them before he had become Danny Phantom.
"As to why the Death Eaters all come from that house," Dumbledore eventually continued, "it is simply because Voldemort decided to establish his power base there. The pre-existing culture was the best for him to co-opt and twist into the form you see today. It has happened before; previous dark lords have taken followers from different houses."
"Finally, as to why Voldemort is from this house," Dumbledore stood up and walked over to a window to gaze out on the castle grounds. "Well, he was an unstable brilliant student with family issues whom I was unable to help. But as for why Riddle became Lord Voldemort instead of Lord Riddle... that is most likely a result of the great question of our time."
"Great question?" Danny was starting to get annoyed at how the answer to his seemingly simple question had transformed into a lecture.
"Do you know the real prize awaiting the winners of this war?" Dumbledore glanced back at the halfa. "Other than for pride, do you know why Voldemort wanted to kill the Fentons?"
Danny shook his head.
"The world is changing. Our world and the muggle world both seemed so static once upon a time. But that's no longer true." Dumbledore's gaze went out to the grounds once more. "In the last couple of centuries the muggle world has changed drastically. I myself was born a little after the invention of the telephone, before the invention of the automobile, and before the flight of the Wright brothers. Tom Riddle grew up during the London Blitz. The muggle world has changed so much and so fast that our own world almost seems to be standing still. And they are growing in strength and knowledge. The status quo cannot last. We cannot hide forever."
"The winners of this war will be in charge of magical Britain when the magical world becomes known to the muggle one," Dumbledore's blue eyes met Danny's green. "They will decide what the country will do when that time comes."
"This is big," Danny blinked. "This is really big."
"You saved the world once already," Dumbledore reassured the halfa. "You're simply helping to do so in another way now. But be warned, this isn't the only conflict of this nature. Other countries are starting to feel the tension. On the other hand, winning England may be enough. Britain, you see, is special due to the timing of the current conflict. One side will dominate the other well in advance and may well end up leading the world."
"Don't really care," Danny held up a hand. "I was going to help you win anyway. All this other stuff really isn't going to motivate me any more."
"I felt that, as long as we were on the topic I should cover it," the twinkle had returned to Dumbledore's eyes.
"Oh." Danny rubbed the back of his head. "I see, I think."
"Do you have any other questions?"
"I'm good for now," Danny answered.
"Well that's all I wanted to talk about," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Oh and I do suppose there was one other thing. We've got a lead on our next target."
Danny sat up ramrod straight.
"Finally," Danny settled back against the hill, enjoying the warmth of the person that he had his arm around and was cuddling to his chest. All the rushing and frantic work on his assignments had been worth it for this bit of free time.
"Yeah it's been a busy week," Sam agreed, resting her head on his shoulder, and enjoying the nice bit of autumn weather.
The two were silent for several minutes as they lay there basking in each other's company. But soon they began to chat about their time at Hogwarts. What classes they were taking. How they were enjoying them. What their houses were like. What people they had met. How it was different from America. And what was bothering them.
"I don't like what they do with animals," Sam admitted. "Why do so many Transfiguration lessons involve animal cruelty? I might have to establish a wizarding animal rights group one of these days. And then there's that Umbridge woman..."
"Actually I was told to pass on a message about her," Danny interrupted, before going on to explain Hermione's plan.
Sam's violet eyes shone with excitement as she listened.
"I'm getting in on this," Sam exclaimed, sitting up and pumping her fist. "This is definitely my thing."
"Thought you might like the extra lessons," Danny also sat up.
"Those are nice, but it's a chance to get active, to do the right thing," Sam turned to Danny. "What's going on now isn't right, and it's more than that Voldemort guy. People are scared and trying to hide their heads in the sand. They're not just ignoring Voldemort, they're ignoring all the other bad guys."
"Isn't that true about everywhere?" Danny asked, remembering everything she had done back home as well.
"Yes, but I'm here now," Sam replied. "And this is my chance to help out here."
Just as Danny couldn't resist engaging in combat to save the day in the magical world, Sam couldn't resist fighting in her own way. Danny was somewhat relieved that someone he knew would be helping Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Of course he was a bit disappointed as well.
"I guess they'll be glad to have the help," Danny said a bit reluctantly.
"Don't worry," Sam told him, bringing her face closer to his. "I'm got some other things to take care of first."
AN: There was no inspiration for this chapter. There was inspiration for the next chapter, or inspiration for the next chapter of my other story. But none for this.
Still it's been hectic, but that excuse is starting to get old. Of course, unlike my car, the excuse won't suddenly start billowing smoke on the highway. That was a fun day.
Remember to review. Tell me what I did wrong. I need to know so that I can improve. Right now I'm my own harshest critic and I'd like to fob the job off to someone else. Why? 'Cause I'm lazy.
(And god do those line breaks give me a headache. Chapter 10 of Symbiosis is currently missing all of it's line breaks because I tried to correct some errors and now reads horribly. Damnit FFN, do the lines better! You went out of your way to make it so we couldn't highlight text, which I took ten minutes to get around, instead of getting those to work? Really?)
REVIEW. Seriously, just REVIEW. :AN