"At last, we can begin our experimental shenanigans," Danny grinned from ear to ear, his words mixing with the sounds of bubbling water.

Snape wasn't as enthusiastic as his colleague. The young man's optimism was contagious, but the Potions professor had long since built up an immunity towards everything positive. However, too focused on how pestering Daniel was, he didn't notice probably the biggest thing — Fenton knew everything about what the professor was intending to achieve here. It was always a good distraction, Danny had come to notice long ago. There was also nothing harmful in letting Snape assist in the research. And after it was over, Danny's opportunities would simply be endless. The ends justified all means of attaining them.

"You've read my journals, right?"

"I did," mumbled Severus. "To me it appeared like you are too wasteful."

Danny winced. "Did it?"

"Indeed. I will not have you destroy all our stocks. Especially since you don't pay for them," Snape scolded him like a student, earning himself a nervous chuckle. "You are aware of general research process. However, potion-making is a fine art, and it has a lot of nuances you omit due to your obliviousness."

"That's why you are here," Danny shrugged. "Where do you think we should start?"

"Several substances have similar properties to ectoplasm. You neglect the importance of the directions you mix, which is a mistake of the first-year student."

"I spent only four years there," Danny mumbled mostly to himself.

"I said 'first year', Fenton. Go fetch the agrippa, I'll prepare the cauldron."

Danny nodded and approached one of the shelves, arranged in alphabetical order. As he did so, he kept the conversation going.

"Say, Severus. How long have you been around here?"

"Since 1981."

Danny blinked and looked at the greasy man. "How old are you?"

"It's thirty four. I know what you are about to insinuate."

"I am not going to insinuate. I will say it bluntly: you were twenty one when you started! I'm just one year younger."

"The circumstances were different back then."

"It wasn't the Dark Age, you weren't about to kick the bucket the next day."

"I said: circumstances were different, Fenton, go back to searching."

Danny grumbled quietly, fishing out a small vial with the word "agrippa" written on a glued slip of paper. "Understand my accusations, Severus. You appear hypocritical. I know my onions as much as you do yours. I even have the experience to boot, as I won't stop reminding you guys."

Snape took the vial, and poured some of its contents in the cauldron. Danny then hummed.

"We should probably add a bit of dittany. And water."

Severus was about to dismiss the remark, but then realised that the criticism held some merit to it.

"A pinch and a full measuring glass."

Danny moved his finger a bit and the glass flew right under the opened tap. In the meantime, as Snape was setting the heat, Fenton went back to checking the shelves, so abundant in that classroom.

"So, I simply can't understand why you were so adamant about not letting me teach."

Snape sighed internally. Fenton obviously was not about to drop the subject.

"The Headmaster knew me. And he knew about my talents. You were an unknown, Fenton. A random vagabond, whose true skills we could not ascertain."

"Then you should have put more accent on that. Perhaps we could have avoided having to sit an exam halfway into the first month. Still, I proved myself, didn't I?"

"You are adequate enough to fill the role for a year."

Danny rolled his eyes, letting the glass fly near the cauldron, slowly pouring the water inside. Then, after a twirl of the mixing spoon, the young man added dittany. Snape noticed that Danny's journal was also floating nearby, and a muggle ball pen was scribbling there.

"What?" Asked Fenton, noticing the glance, "Quills are too messy to keep journals."

"This is a strange level of levitation."

Both knew where the conversation had arrived awfully quickly. The personal matters.

"I honestly had a hard time learning that. It also takes enormous concentration. And since I write, I have to clearly imagine the letters."

"I don't imagine you had a mentor."

"Well yeah," Danny shrugged, "I am self-taught. It's not the stuff they show you at Ilvermony. That's why they were such pricks about it," he muttered, glancing at the concoction. "What about you, though? You must have been really exceptional if Dumbledore let you teach. Despite the impression you leave."

A glare was thrown Danny's way, and the young man grew apprehensive. "What? I am not the one calling you a greasy bat. At the moment, at least. And it is not out of sympathy the students call you this."

"Oh, so you don't harbour any as well. Perhaps I should leave?"

"I respect you and your skills, while I may not show it. Besides, you won't leave and waste the ingredients just like this. I know you well enough to understand this part."

Snape hummed, mixing the concoction.

"You haven't answered."

"In my school years I have created several potent potions from scratch. All my grades were also exceptional, which cannot be said about you."

"Was the last part necessary?" Danny whined. "Cannot say I relate... so, were you popular back then?"

"How does one thought of yours correlate with another?"

"I'd say it is a stereotype that smartness and popularity in school don't relate. It comes down to being able to interact with others."

"No, as a matter of fact I was not "popular". I don't want to be distracted by such childish topics."

"They aren't childish. Things such as these leave a lasting impact. My former bully is currently working as a loader. Had to save him from a poltergeist obsessed with boxes, and I was honestly shocked to see him there of all places. Still, he is clinging to our shared past, as he was unable to even thank me. Those years were his prime, realising that the only way for you to go is down is quite depressing. It works the other way, too. Some sad things cling to you as well. Luckily, all those memories, too good and too bad, won't bother you if you just let go. I did just that. What happened before isn't really important. I am an adult and I make my own life."

Snape remained quiet, which Danny mistakenly took as a permission to go on.

"I am good at reading people, Severus. Obviously something burdens YOU."

Severus was now actually concerned if the boy was strong enough in Legilimency. No, he would have felt it if the boy was trying to get inside his head.

"This doesn't concern you. Stop your attempts at appearing adult."

Perhaps, he was appearing too rude. For a moment Severus was concerned that eventually Fenton was going to stop shaking off everything the Potions professor said. On the other hand, being accommodating at this point was just as ruinous for the cover.

"I am an adult, how many times do I have to tell you?" Asked Danny. "Is the potion supposed to be this colour?"

Snape noticed that the concoction assumed the colour of vomit. "Yes...It is also the basis for the Draught of living death. Colour is the most solid indicator of the potion's condition. For each stage it is specific," Snape lectured. "I believe we should add ectoplasm now."

Rome was not built in a day, they say. And neither was the active ectoplasm created. The researchers tried several ways of reaching the desired effect, but none was successful. Several hours passed in vain attempts at recreating the elder Fentons' achievement, as well as building a sympathetic conversation. Danny was honestly frustrated at how unapproachable Snape was. Wasn't that guy supposed to spy on him? Apparently, opening up for Snape was a humongous price he wasn't willing to pay. Danny did thus discover a pressure point, but pressing it would alienate the professor in an instant, the young man was certain of it. Perhaps he should have called out the vain attempts at fishing information out of him. But that would also leave Snape with no incentive to continue the research. With such considerations in mind, Danny eventually' left the professor to do his own things, a notebook with new additions in his hand. He would have to reconsider some concepts of his, as his mind was flooded with new ideas.

The next day was bound to be interesting. True to his idea of aiding S.P.E.W. in its goals, Danny asked Hermione to bring the members of this organisation to the yard on Saturday morning, without specifying the time. Perhaps that was a mistake, because the ever-diligent girl chose to arrange everything quite early. Thankfully, years of sleepless nights caused Danny to sleep only for a couple of hours and still remain fresh. Which honestly could not be said about the people Hermione brought along. It wasn't surprising for Danny to see sleepy Potter or disgruntled Weasley. Or sad Longbottom. This group really was lacking members, it appeared.

"Professor Fenton?" Asked Harry and yawned. "What are you doing here?"

Danny smiled. "Good morning, kids. I am actually the newest member of the..." He fished out a badge out of his pants. "SPEW. Granger, that's one silly name."

"Don't tell me she got you into this," Ron moaned.

"She got you, though," commented Danny with confusion, looking at the sheepish founder. "Well, anyways. If we are here, then we probably share some thoughts about the current state of wizarding society."

Ron seemed hesitant to answer, while Harry looked curious. Not as much as in the activity, but rather the teacher. He was honestly intrigued by what Fenton was like.

"Elves in particular."

"This again?" Ron moaned and rubbed his eyes. "Professor, don't tell me you believe the same thing she does?"

Danny raised an eyebrow, as they all sat on the grass.

"So you don't think we should do something about the elves?"

"They aren't bothered by their job, professor Fenton. Why should we give them something they don't want?"

Phantom hummed. Apparently, Weasley was in it only because his friends were here. Be it the desire not to be a white raven or the wish to stop Hermione from nagging him, he did not know. Fenton's attention was turned to Harry.

"And you, Harry? Neville?"

"I am not sure..." began Harry. "I mean, Ron and Neville have been living with knowledge of elves."

"I think Hermione's grades are better than theirs. No offence. And I too am a muggleborn."

"None taken, sir," Ron yawned, still disinterested. "Why are YOU so adamant about this?"

"Recently I've had a discussion with one man who knows me too well. He told me to take more active part in what is happening around. Admittedly, I do have my critique of how this world functions. And what I would like to change, starting with elves, yes. Because the weakest deserve help more than others."

"They never say they want it. In fact, because Hermione took to liberating them, the elves stopped cleaning our dorms. Because she apparently insulted them."

Danny broke into laughter, only then noticing Hermione's red face. Whether it was embarrassment or anger with Ron, he didn't care.

"That's one way of going about it. A very crude, but well-intended way. Hermione, you shouldn't force anything on anybody. Even freedom. Because to some extent you are right, Ron. They do not want it now. We should let them make choice, unlike Hermione. That's why I think that the first step would be to campaign for paying them wages. Hogwarts would be a good start."

"Are you sure it is wise? Wouldn't they just... spend them on something excessive?"

"Yeah, bet Winky would spend everything on booze."

"Ron," Danny's voice turned accusatory. "She has a crippling depression. Because her only life goal has been ripped away from her."

"You have met her, sir?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. I took visits to the kitchen quite often back in summer. Still do. If only she listened, it's hard not to catch her drunk. I still think that the elves should have money. This alone will help a lot, but that's up for debates. Think about it. Would a person who invested so much money into an elf mount their head on the wall? It will at least make them think twice before harming their servants. Money do not automatically liberate elves, so it's a good compromise for now."

"I don't think it is a good time for that, professor," Harry scratched his chin. "The Ministry is not going to give anything. Especially for something like this."

Danny pointed a finger at him. "That's precisely why we are doing it now. The wizarding world is a bigoted and an unjust one. These customs and neglect are the main reason each half a century people have to deal with another dark lord. First it's the refusal of rights to the elves, then goblins, recently they forbade the werewolves from getting normal jobs. Try to guess who those desperate people are going to join. The Ministry is a self-destructive mess that keeps making everything worse. It's not the problem of Fudge or Dolores. It's the problem with public outlook. Ron is a testament to that. He means nothing ill, but some things simply don't appear to him as such."

Everyone stared at the professor's small rant that even made him get up and pace around. Everyone suspected the pent-up frustrations to be the cause.

"What's the difference between Voldemort and the people in charge now? They don't wear creepy masks for one. And how long will it take for them to consider us muggleborns as someone on the level of magical creatures? If Voldemort was to come in charge tomorrow, few things would change. It's not about him, he is not the cause, he is the result."

"You are really... riled up, sir."

"Is it that visible?" Danny huffed. "Sorry, guys. I don't want to pull you into anything deeper than the elves. We'll work with what we can, if you are willing."

"But what would you have us do? We have exams and tons of homework."

"Yeah, I am at fault here, too," Danny winced just a bit. "I'll make the brochures we'll be distributing. With all my living needs catered for, I can afford those. I hope you can remember what's in there and sway the doubtful. We will omit the ministry part, though. We are not revolutionaries. I will also add a couple of house points for activity outside of classes," he added to sway even the most doubtful.

After looking at each other, the teens shrugged. Perhaps he didn't convince Ron, but he could see that Harry was thinking heavily about this. The boy in turn thought that this was a chance to get to know the new professor more. Danny never hid his distaste for how things were run around there, which was a huge plus in the boy's eyes. And his words really got him thinking. He glanced at Neville, who by then had fallen asleep again on the grass. He would need some extra convincing, too, but, admittedly, with his lack of solid backbone it wasn't going to be hard.

Danny sighed, letting the kids go for breakfast. He could see that Hermione took a liking to him because of his enthusiasm. He didn't have any illusions that the Ministry was going to do anything positive. He really got himself winded up with those tirades. The conversation reminded Phantom that he could do more than simple petitioning, just like Clockwork had said. Unlike the kids he was more powerful than any wizard in his wake. The young professor once again told himself that he was only going to bring more troubles upon his head. It really was a cliché struggle. A retired hero who didn't want to be one anymore. In any case, he was making others' lives better without sabotaging his secret identity, a boon to be sure.

The following weekend was largely spent in preparation. With plenty of free time Danny managed to make several brochures and posters. Or, rather, ask a master in Hogsmeade to make some. The content of said brochures and posters earned several raised eyebrows, but Fenton remained convinced that what he was doing was right. Danny even tried to spread the message to the locals, off-handedly, of course. Being too pushy was going to push people in only one direction — away. Sadly, it also brought little result. The wizards really saw nothing bad about slavery, and it was, admittedly, disheartening. Perhaps, it would work better with teenagers — by definition a category more inclined to bringing change, whether good or bad.

The posters were small, about the size of those widely utilised in Hogwarts for making announcements. If such posters were pinned in every common room, it would do a good service in making their intentions known. One of them held two images, separated by a white line, of a child and a house elf, both wearing rags, wiping the floor while looking malnourished. "THE THIN BORDERLINE" the poster said. The child was there on purpose, to make the message resonate. Another poster was directed at making people more accepting of the idea that magical beings were all equal, with equal rights and responsibilities. The approach was very careful this time, because unlike elves, the "beings" category was less concrete. Vampires, hags, giants — they could be very harmful. So it wasn't much of acceptance matter, more like to not be prejudiced. Werewolves, on the other hand, were normal people most of their lives. And this matter, stated in brochures, was very critical and solid. Everything Danny told the original members found its place on those small pages. The Ministry was forcing them to walk a very dangerous and malicious path. And while remaining critical of those actions, the language that was utilised was quite reserved and pragmatic. They consciously put the wizards at danger, creating a whole group of people that was hostile. Right out of thin air.

Hermione, having done all the homework at an instant, was eager to spend her weekend assisting him in propagating their goals. She put the posters in her dorm, calling for the people to join the recently reformed "M.A.N.A." Better than "S.P.E.W." "Mutual Assistance against Non-Acceptance" sounded more respectable, not like a purposeful caricature. The newly minted badges with the new name were distributed with no extra charge. The girl was full of the newly-found enthusiasm. However, with her was associated some unpleasant experience, so she probably was not the best candidate for the job. After having pestered everyone, she needed to change approach. Danny, who hadn't missed the fact that she forced her friends into this, instructed her on what she should and should not do.

On Sunday morning Hermione went to join the professor near the Main Hall. There she saw Fenton conversing with a small group of Hufflepuff students. Since they had badges in their hands, she could only assume that he got them hooked. It made the girl feel slightly offended that he accomplished in a couple of days more than she had done in the last two years. But she was glad that the man sympathised with her ideas. Maybe it was the authority of the teacher that gave some sort of credibility to the group. After all, all proper clubs had their curators among the staff. Hermione blinked and shook her head, and, as she approached Fenton, the other students left, carrying some brochures and posters with them. Danny saw the girl and beamed.

"Good morning, Hermione. Glad you made it. I just had a nice talk with the badgers here."

"I'm… honestly impressed, sir."

Danny flushed a bit. "That's nothing big, really. Badgers are our main allies in all this. Being compassionate is their main shtick."

Hermione chuckled lightly. "I guess you are right. You wanted to see me?"

"Yep. If we want our campaign to succeed, we need to get those we campaign for on our side."

The girl froze. "And you… wanted to bring me along?"

"Got that right, kiddo," Danny smirked, "I know that what you did antagonised them. That's why you should come along. If you apologise, we can begin anew and move forward."

Hermione nodded slowly. "If you say so. I… probably should have asked them first."

"Well, trading is one of the steps to acceptance," Huffed Fenton and outstretched his hand to her. "Wanna see a trick?"

Confused, the girl took it, and several seconds later she was startled by the fact that they were in fact sinking through the floor.

"Calm down. It's all in order," he said, before she went completely under the floor.

Softly they landed on the ground right under, and her eyes went wide in wonder.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

Danny kept smirking as he approached one of the food-themed pictures on the walls. "Trade secret, Hermione. Can't have you kids running through the walls. And no, your responsibility is not enough to convince me."

He tickled a pear on a painting of a bowl with food. The pear then giggled and turned into a large green door handle. Danny pressed on it, and the entrance was before them. He went in first.

Inside the kitchen Danny threw occasional greetings, calling most of the elves by names. Although he did mistake a couple.

"Greetings, Mr.Fenton!" Many of them called back. Those who did not were too preoccupied with cooking or cleaning the dishes.

"Good day to you, folks."

"Did you need anything, sir?" Asked a short, plump elf.

"Yes, Pitts, several things. I actually brought someone."

Danny gestured towards the entrance, and the shy Hermione received some unkind glances. Not hostile, as they were incapable of being this way towards students, but there wasn't much sympathy in there.

"Uhm… Good morning," she began.

"That's the girl who kept giving clothes away," one of the elves whispered.

"What is she here for?" Asked another.

"I… I wanted to apologise."

Hermione may not have held that idea when she woke up that day, but she understood the need when Danny pointed it out. She may not have completely thought that what she did was wrong, but it was probably for the better. She would have to trust the young professor on that. Fenton in the meantime reached for an apple and began munching on it with the permission of the one preparing that fruit bowl.

"I learned that what I did was insulting to many of you. I should have thought more about the implications and what those clothes must have meant for you. I didn't mean anything bad, so I ask for your forgiveness. And if you accept those socks and hats as a simple gratitude, I would be glad, too. But that's for you to decide!" She quickly corrected herself. Which, admittedly, wasn't that noticeable in the end of her general rambling.

There were some mumbles among the elves. After some consideration, one of them stepped forward.

"We accept your apology, Gryffindor girl," he said, smiling lightly. "But Grimpy suspects that the professor told you about this."

"Guilty as charged," Danny shrugged. "We all need a nudge in the right direction. The apology was her own volition, though."

"Sir, can Pitts ask a question?"

"Go ahead, pal."

"What is this badge?" He pointed his finger at the green badge on Danny's shirt.

"Oh, that's actually another thing I was meaning to discuss. Basically, I think that Hermione's idea was not a malicious one. But she didn't take your interests in mind, and that's her mistake she has just apologised for."

"But sir, we already told everyone that everything is good. We don't need anything," the house elf tried to be polite, although he was obviously displeased with the direction of this conversation.

Danny sighed. "YOU may be satisfied. And that is true, after all, you have jobs you love, your master is a kind and understanding man. Am I right?"

The elves looked at each other, and Danny received several nods.

"But that's not the case for everyone. How many of your people have to suffer and endure? Look at poor Winky, at fortunate Dobby. They may not be the exemplary cases for your people, anomalies, even. But ask yourself simple questions. What is better? When your master beats you up or when they don't?"

"Sir, we need to go back to work."

An excuse to dismiss him. That much was obvious. Danny needed to simplify things as much as possible to coincide with the elven outlook on the world.

"Look, you guys cannot deny that being hurt is something nobody wants. That's what me, Hermione and other students want. Pitts, admit this, pally. You were happy when your old master sold you to Hogwarts. Because he used to beat you up. You started eating a lot here because he used to force you to starve for weeks. Don't you want others to be as happy as you were?"

The named elf lowered the fruit he was just about to eat.

"But sir… we are just elves."

Danny sat on the knee and lowered himself to his eye level.

"You are not "just elves". You are your own beings, who can be hurt, who will hurt themselves as a form of punishment because you are so responsible and loyal. Not every human can claim that they are the same way. I repeat my question, don't you want other elves to be properly taken care of just like they care for their masters? I don't ask you to revolt, Ancients forbid. You are content, and that is enough, it means that we don't need to change anything here. But there is a larger world out there. And I ask you, do you want what I offer to your fellow elves? So that they all have a master that cares for them?"

There was a strange silence in the air. Danny and Hermione were growing worried that the elves were going to disagree. Pitts was the one to respond.

"Pitts wants other elves to be happy, too. Pitts knows Dobby thinks so, too."

Danny grinned. "That alone is enough, everyone. The desire to make things better. Knowing that this is what you want, too, we will try to make such thing true. With your support. Well, I won't be interrupting you from your work. By the way, Krafty! That cheesecake you made yesterday was amazing!"

Hermione could see the named house elf glowing with joy. It was that simple to get on their good side, apparently. And even that she did miss, which made her feel embarrassed. She was too on the nose. She was quiet as they left the kitchen, and then she noticed the enthusiasm and glee on the professor's face. Hermione couldn't help but make her final conclusion about the compassion Fenton could show. And unlike her she had the strength and… experience. And that made her wonder even more, so much in fact, that she voiced her confusion.

"Well," Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I used to have a friend back at school," he chuckled. "She campaigned for making the food there completely meat-free. She did enlist me, too. Sam had a way of bringing people into her endeavours. That's where I learned the basics of this stuff."

"So… did you succeed?"

"Nope. There was a poltergeist that got very angry with that idea. So we had to scrap it," laughed Danny and put hands in his pockets.

Although… Hermione could see that he wasn't happy talking about that girl. Come to think of it, he didn't appear to interact with many people. Did his false conviction and expulsion cause a rift between them? Hermione decided to change the topic.

"What's our next step, sir?"

Danny smirked again. "You are the leader of this group, are you not?"

Her eyes widened. "But…Wait, I thought that you are the leader now. You did all of this."

"That was just a suggestion you agreed with," Fenton shrugged. "I am here only for a year."

Although that thought created a whole new concept within the young man's mind. About the fight for equal rights at the scale much larger. The magical beings needed someone powerful enough to stand up for them. Here, Dumbledore was a strong-enough backing. Out in the world there was the need of something much larger than a Headmaster and a… Supreme Mugwump. Whatever that was.

"Well… I am not sure what we should do next. I suppose we could just continue giving away the brochures and bringing new members."

"Sound enough," responded Danny.

That was bound to happen, Danny guessed. Nothing escaped the watchful eye of the High Inquisitor.

"I can tolerate many things, Mr. Fenton…"

"Professor Fenton, Dolores," Danny leaned back in his chair and sipped on his tea.

Dumbledore in the meantime was growing immensely tired with those two. Well, as long as Dolores was too busy pestering Fenton, she would not pay attention to the truly important things.

"And so far you have thrown a tantrum about each my breath."

"Political campaigning must not be allowed within the school, Fenton!" The cardigan-wearing inquisitor raised her voice.

"I don't recall you having a post here. I assure you, Dolores. Our intentions are peaceful, we simply want greater rights for magical beings, is all."

"Preposterous! I know that this is all a ploy to harass the Ministry!"

"Hm, and why so? Maybe because you are a part of the problem?" Danny kept calmly drinking his tea. "I remind you that M.A.N.A. was founded one year ago. I am just enthusiastic, so I proposed a little rebranding. Because circumstances have changed, and it's becoming increasingly obvious that you, Dolores, really want chaos in this land."

"The claims you are making…" She was gaining the colour of her clothes.

"You are the one who blocked werewolves from getting jobs. Joblessness is the first step towards radicalism. Dolores, do you really not realise that what you are doing is only creating more problems? Are you just that incompetent?"

"I have graduated! Unlike you, brat," she hissed.

"Professor Dumbledore," Danny turned towards the Headmaster. "You have to agree that Voldemort is the one they will turn to."

The face of the inquisitor contorted quite comically at this dismissal.

"That is sadly true."

Dumbledore had to admit. He did enjoy this quite a bit.

"This is rubbish. The Dark Lord has NOT come back from the dead. Werewolves are a danger to all proper humans no matter what you do. In fact, one of your predecessors was one."

"True. And he was very good at his job. The students' grades show this well. They know the material from two years ago better than anything. And they don't remember a single thing you taught them. Now poor Lupin is probably begging on the street because of you," Danny sighed, and Dumbledore noticed a clenched fist the young man was trying to hide. "I will be brief, Dolores. You are bigoted, short-sighted, and incompetent. At least try to pretend that you are keeping order. Don't antagonise whole groups of people and make them ready to revolt. I know you will relay this to your boss, so I'm trying to make our job easier."

"If you think that I will go back on what has been done just because a couple of students organised near a delusional teacher, you are mistaken, Fenton."

"Common sense is on my side. That's quite enough. It would be a shame if our group expanded outside of this school in a couple of days, right?"

Dumbledore could see it in that boy's smile and look. The wickedness and glee worthy of Tom. Just what was he planning?