As the edge of consciousness began to form, Danny burrowed further in his bed. He heard people talking around him, but he couldn't find it in himself to listen to their conversation. He was in a cloud of comfort and wanted to stay that way however long he could, which sadly wasn't very long. His head made itself known as a throbbing pain grew ever present. Groaning, he grabbed his head.
"Ugh, did anyone get the license plate of the truck that hit me?" he asked no one in particular.
"Sir Danny, I am glad to see you are awake," Dora replied. Opening his eyes, Danny saw golden hair and friendly ruby eyes. He sent her a smile which turned into a grimace as he sat up. He took in his surroundings and was surprised to find that he was not in a bed like he had previously thought, but on his living room couch. His friends and Jazz were spread around the room but frozen in mid-movement. A puzzling display, until he noticed a familiar medallion wrapped around his neck.
"So much for your hands-off policy, Clockwork which bites by the way," Danny grumbled, rubbing his face before turning to the Ghost of Time.
"On the contrary, Daniel, a clock's hand never bites, but remains vigilant in quantifying the persistent flow of time," Clockwork replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Ugh, too much talking," Danny groaned, shaking his muddled head.
"Perhaps it is one's tongue that should be bitten?" Clockwork asked with a raised brow and quirked lip. Danny cracked a smile and opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.
"That's enough," came a sharp voice. Danny's expression soured when he spotted Clockwork's short one-eyed companion. This ghost's temper matched his stature as his way of thinking matched his sight-line.
"What are you doing here?" Danny asked, annoyed. Seeing an oncoming argument, he attempted to stand, but fell back against the couch with a wince.
"Your injuries are still healing," Dora admonished, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You mustn't move too much."
Using the next best intimidation factor, Danny glared spitefully at the observant. He still didn't forgive them for ordering Clockwork to kill him. The small observant glared back at him with equal disdain.
"Daniel does have a point, though. It's high time we got to it," Clockwork commented absentmindedly, twisting a gear on his time staff. Danny gave Clockwork an unimpressed look which went ignored. He knew that Clockwork didn't like the observants either and had to reluctantly work with them to keep the time stream in tact, but Danny felt an unease settle in his stomach. Clockwork didn't usually use word play, and Danny couldn't help but feel that he was doing it now to keep Danny's guard down. While he was glad the old stopwatch was there to keep the observant at bay, he couldn't help but wonder why they were there. The last time he dealt with them was to protect the timeline.
The observant sent an irritated look at Clockwork, who ignored it in favor of tinkering with his staff, before straightening up in a pompous manner. In a regal voice, he stated, "Daniel James Fenton also known to some as Phantom or Inviso-"
"-Do not finish that sentence," Danny groaned.
Taken aback, the observant frowned before regaining his composure. "I would appreciate the lack of interruptions, thank you." Danny opened his mouth to retort, but the observant quickly forged on before he could get a word in. "It is my unfortunate pleasure to inform you that in accordance with the code of the knights of Breayanad and the ancient proclamation of the deity Osiris, who had once strung up the sun by fighting one thousand unicorns, taking a strand of hair from each one to weave a rope stronger than a flock of ferocious dragons; while carving a spear from a lone yew tree growing in the jagged cliffs of the Silver Chasm, and tying a feather from The Great Phoenix, said to be the father of fire, to initiate the first monarch in the Infinite Realms, that you have been placed in the ranks of the sovereignty."
Danny blinked before stating bluntly, "I have no idea what you just said."
Dora giggled in her hand. "Sir Danny, what he's trying to say is that you won. Pariah's gone. You defeated him in a fight for the crown."
Memories of the cold concrete floor and pouring rain came back to him.
Dread settled deep inside Danny from a single terrible thought. Did I kill him? Not willing to go down that road, but feeling bile rise up nonetheless, he struggled to keep his cool.
"The ring," he began. Dora reached in her pocket and handed him a folded handkerchief. Unfurling the contents revealed the remnants of what once had been the Ring of Rage.
The piercing red eyes of the skull were reduced to mere crumbs. Danny poked the small green shards as the memory of their power enveloped him. The desire to kill and destroy the ghost that dared try to subjugate mankind. The anger and retribution that came with the uncontrollable power. Panic began to surface and the weight of his memories was becoming unbearable. He had to ask, but dreaded to know.
As if reading his mind, Clockwork floated closer and put a hand on his shoulder. "The timing of death, like the ending of a story, offers new life a chance in the world. A chance to help it, change it."
"What happened to Pariah?" he asked, looking desperately at his mentor. He felt tears falling down his cheek.
"When the ring released its energy, Pariah was caught in the crossfire. He did not survive," Clockwork spoke calmly.
Danny sniffed as more tears fell. In his time as Phantom, he had promised to protect. To save and help wherever and whoever. He looked away from the old ghost, disgusted with himself. He felt just like the monsters his parents believed ghosts to be skewed understanding of ghosts. His core was dirty and there was blood on his hands. He was one step closer to becoming the being he feared most. His eyes found Jazz. She had been in the middle of braiding her hair while listening intently to what Tucker had been saying before time froze. Danny really wished she was unfrozen right now. She always knew the right things to say to him to make him feel better.
Glaring at the crying teen, the observant huffed impatiently. "Now, really!"
Dora sent him a dark look. "He's just a boy."
"One who is set to rule the Infinite Realms! We don't have time for this arbitrary foolishness." The one-eyed ghost shook his head in annoyance. "Never in my day would I have thought the throne of the Ghost King would be given to a snivelling child!"
"It is said that a great nation is ruled by a man who weeps for his enemies," Clockwork commented sagely.
"Or a weak nation," the observant countered.
"Hold your tongue, Observant. Sir Danny is noble and helps all those in need. He will make a great king," Dora stated proudly.
"A what?" Danny croaked, having caught the last part of their conversation.
Dora's gaze softened. "You won the crown by right of conquest. You are the new Ghost King." She gave a low bow.
"Stop!" Danny yelled in a panic. "I'm not a king! I'm barely passing 7th grade!"
"What does your ability to pass a mundane human institution have to do with ruling a kingdom?" the observant scoffed.
"Everything!" Danny shook his head. "This is ridiculous."
The observant grumbled his agreement, causing Dora to send him a glare.
"Oh hush," Dora snapped at him, before turning to her friend. "Sir Danny, I have full confidence in you. You have what it takes to make a marvelous king. With you, the Infinite Realms will flourish. The people of Mattingly recognize your rule and will support you."
The one eyed ghost nodded morbidly. "As much as I hate agreeing with you, child, we have to face the gruesome truth," the observant began.
"No!" Danny shouted angrily. "I refuse to take the crown."
"You can't!"
Danny shot up and withheld a wince. Jabbing a finger in the ghost's chest, he said, "You listen here. When my brother moved to England I made it my business to learn everything I could about the place he now lives in, and one of those things I learned was that no matter how much pressure they're given, the royal family can abdicate. Well here's my abdication."
Clockwork stepped forward and gave him a sad look. "The Infinite Realms doesn't work that way, Daniel. They have already accepted your reign. If you transform, you'll see for yourself." Danny gave him a skeptical look but complied. A flash of light later and he was Phantom. Clockwork pointed to the top of his head and when Danny looked up, he saw the same crown that had once floated above Pariah. It was wrapped in emerald flames and flickered innocently.
Releasing a yelp, he tried to push the crown away only for it to pop back up in the same spot.
"How do I get rid of it?!" he yelled in alarm.
"You can't get rid of it," Clockwork stated before adding pensively, "Though I suppose you can will it to remain hidden."
"You heard him, go away!" Danny shouted at the crown. It merely flickered in response.
"Perhaps some practice is needed before it recognizes your authority," Clockwork mused.
"This can't be happening," Danny groaned, placing his head in his hands.
"Well it is," the observant replied harshly. "Now that you have awoken, we must form a new council and decide how we will bring the nations together. I'd say you should decide at your ghastly coronation, but seeing how the crown is sadly already on your head, why bother?" The ghost chuckled to himself. "I suppose if you really want something you can have some form of a reception."
During the small ghost's rant, something inside Danny snapped. "The Zone worked fine without a king for centuries. It doesn't need one and I won't become one. Figure it out yourselves, because I'm out." With that he disappeared.
Sick of looking at the glowing monstrosity above his head, Danny had ditched his ghostly half long ago for his human one. It was clear by the people milling about that Clockwork had restarted time. Danny knew it was only wishful thinking that his mentor would leave him alone, but he was glad for the break. He kicked a rock absentmindedly and grimaced. Signs of his fight were making themselves known through aches and pains, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It was just another thing to add to his list of churning emotions. His steps were heavy with the weight of his problems.
"Danny!" He heard a voice say before getting hit hard in the chest.
"I was so worried!" the lump that tried to take him out said.
"Owww," Danny complained, finally realizing who it was. "Geez, Jazz, if psychology doesn't work out for you, a career in bulldozing will."
She met his eyes with a watery glare. "Don't you ever scare me like that again."
"O-Okay," he mumbled, not used to seeing her raw display of emotions. They both knew he was lying, but no other response would be acceptable.
Jazz took a moment to regain her composure, analyzing her brother in the process. When she spotted him grimacing, she gently guided him over to a bus stop bench. The overhang was completely demolished, but the bench was thankfully untouched.
"We didn't know where you'd gone," she explained. She took a seat next to him. "We thought a ghost had needed you for something and we didn't realize you were still recovering. I left to look for you while Sam and Tucker stayed at the house to keep an eye on Mom and Dad." Danny could tell that last comment was a loaded statement, but couldn't bring himself to unpack it just yet. He had already reached his threshold of problems to deal with today. Jazz noticed his unusually quiet demeanor and asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Sore," Danny answered, knowing that wasn't what she was asking, but too stubborn to relent so quickly. It didn't take long. One firm grip on his shoulder and a pointed glare had him opening up.
Once he began, he couldn't stop. He hadn't talked to Jazz since before the town meeting, and recounting the recent events was comforting. It felt like he was Atlas unloading the weight of the world off of his bruised, tired shoulders. Jazz listened intently to what he had to say. She tightened her grip on his shoulder as he described the dementor's effect and didn't release her hold until he finished reliving his fight with Pariah. Before she could ask any questions on the topic, Danny pushed on by explaining his conversation with Clockwork after he had woken up. He knew he would need her wisdom if he wanted to figure out what he was going to do.
Jazz frowned in thought. "So you told Clockwork you abdicated?"
Danny nodded. "But he said that wasn't how things work. Him and that stupid one-eyed wart are just going to keep pestering me about it," he answered glumly.
Jazz hummed in thought. "Well, the best thing you can do is keep telling them no. They'll get the hint eventually." Gaze softening, she asked, "Do you want to talk about Pariah?"
Danny shrugged as if the question didn't dredge up self-deprecating thoughts. "What's there to talk about? He's gone and everyone is happy."
"But you aren't," she pressed gently.
Danny scowled. "I should be happy that he is gone. The world is safe, better without him." He looked into his hands. "But all I can think about is how I killed him. Took away his chance to move on. I destroyed the ring and I didn't even care that he died in the process." Clenching them, he added, "At one point, I even wanted it."
"Danny…"
He threw his hands in the air. "And what do we have to show for it? Now that the ghosts have attacked at such a grand scale, humans will never trust them. Everything will go back to normal like nothing happened. People will still hate ghosts and ghosts will still terrorize humans. It's an endless cycle of hatred." He met her eyes, his gaze never looking so lost. "I can't see how I can unite humans and ghosts after this. It's hopeless," he finished sullenly.
Danny let misery envelope him as his negative thoughts grew. Feeling a tug on his arm he looked at his sister.
She gave him a small smile and pulled him up. "Come with me," she said cryptically with a spark in her eye.
Given Danny's injuries, they took the path slowly. Danny would occasionally send her a puzzled look, but Jazz ignored them and forged on. Eventually, they rounded a corner to an even more decrepit street.
Groups of people were spread throughout the war-torn street. Emergency trucks were parked along the road assisting the injured, while volunteers passed out food under a makeshift canopy. People and ghosts busied themselves by moving rubble from the street.
Danny did a double take. Ghosts? Looking again, Danny saw what he thought his eyes had made up. The Box Ghost was stacking boxes of supplies for the medics, while a doctor stitched up Klemper. The Lunch Lady was passing grilled hot dogs to the Casper Elementary Lunch Lady who added ketchup and mustard before handing it to a hungry civilian. Danny watched in a daze as a group of yetis huddled around Linda and listened to her explain how to fix the broken cables. He finally snapped when he spotted Valerie and Kitty having lunch together.
"I'm dreaming," he concluded. It was the only logical explanation. "Or Pariah really did finish me off."
"Take it in, little brother," Jazz stated proudly.
"How did this happen?!" He flailed his arms in disbelief, only to hit a hard surface.
"Watch it!" a voice growled. Recognizing the accent, Danny spun sharply, withheld a wince, and took a defensive stance.
Walker lowered his frown in response. "Listen, punk. I don't care who you are now. You won't get any special treatment from me."
Danny dropped his fists. "Glad we're on the same page," he replied coolly as a feeling of relief went through him. There must be something wrong with him if he was comforted by the fact that his enemies still wanted to make his life miserable, despite his royal status. Jazz would say it had something to do with clinging to his old sense of normalcy, but Danny didn't care. "I wouldn't expect any differently from a ghost with a superiority complex," he retorted. Jazz gave him a warning look.
Walker narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists. He appeared to war with himself before storming away, throwing out orders at some unassuming ghosts as he went.
Bewildered and unsatisfied by the lack of banter, Danny frowned and followed him.
"That's it? No arrests? Or inane sentencings? Or long-winded spiels about breaking the rules?"
Walker huffed irritably. "Figures you wouldn't know, seeing how you never know the rules-"
"There it is!" Danny grinned.
Walker glared, "There's a temporary truce until everyone can get back to their lairs."
"Does the truce include humans?" Danny asked.
Walker was reluctant to respond which was enough for Danny. He couldn't keep a smile from forming on his face. The feeling of victory had finally taken root despite the weight of its costs. He took in the sight of accomplishment. Granted, everyone looked a bit rough and disheveled, they all had a spark of determination to help, regardless of who was next to them.
"How're the ghosts getting home?" he asked cheerfully. This only caused Walker to sour further.
"That mangy mutt of yours is using his infernal power," he grumbled.
"Cujo?" Danny asked in confusion.
Walker pinched his nose in irritation. "The other one."
"Wulf!" Danny exclaimed. Looking around, he asked, "Where is he?"
Walker, wanting nothing more than to lose Danny, jerked a thumb behind him. Danny looked in that direction and spotted a large group of transparent ghosts. Jazz, who had been watching the conversation with amusement, felt an arm pull her in the group's direction. She let herself get dragged across the street, content to see her brother cheering up.
Tapping one on the shoulder, Danny asked politely, "Excuse me. I am looking for a friend of mine. He's a giant glowing-" and that was as far as he got before the ghost widened his eyes and clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"Why, it's you!" he cried.
"Me?" Danny asked in confusion.
The ghost's companions all looked at Danny with awe. The man who had taken hold of him took a step back and bowed. "Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, at your service, your highness, and must I say, it is truly an honor."
Danny gave an uneasy glance to Jazz who was staring thoughtfully at the youngest ghost of the group. She was so preoccupied that she missed his nonverbal, sibling telepathic communication. Real help, Jazz.
"Please don't," Danny stated weakly, glancing around to make sure none of the other ghosts surrounding the group took notice. He felt himself turning red and briefly wondered how everyone seemed to know of his new status. Clearing his throat he continued, "I've, uh, actually abdicated so you don't have to act so formal."
Sir Nick gave him a funny look. "Sire, I don't think such a title can be relinquished…."
"You guys are English, right?" He was judging based on Nick's accent. "So you must know about abdication. It's a thing… so… yeah…" he trailed off lamely.
Sir Nick looked like he wanted to argue, but Danny turned promptly to the rest of the group. He winced when he recognized the shackled ghost from the battle, and remembered fighting him. "I think I broke your nose," he admitted apologetically. "It's, er, still bleeding," he added.
The ghost shrugged uncaringly. "What's a bit more, anyway?" he asked. Danny got a better look at the ghost and noticed he was covered in blood. Before he could panic, the ghost waved him off. "Relax, lad, it wasn't your hand that did this and no doc's gonna take a look at me. The blood's ancient, boy."
Danny looked unconvinced.
"A token of his misdeeds," the lady behind the ghost supplied.
The man did not deny it.
"R-Right," Danny replied shakily, stealing another glance at Jazz. She was still gazing intently at the young ghost, who, unnerved by the behavior, was actively trying to avoid her gaze. Guess I'll have to get us out of this one… he thought sullenly. "W-Well, we should probab-"
"You're from Harry's school!" Jazz blurted, snapping her fingers with realization.
"What?" the ghost girl sputtered.
Danny took in the familiar school robes and grinned. "Hogwarts, right?"
"How do you know?" the girl asked.
"Your majesty, are you a wizard, too?" Sir Nick asked hopefully. Danny laughed.
"Sorry to disappoint, Sir Nicholas, but I'm a muggle through and through. And please, call me Danny."
The ghost bowed lowly. "As you wish, Danny, but I ask that you return the gesture and call me Nick."
A small portly ghost snickered in his hand. Danny recognized him as the ghost standing next to the Box Ghost on the front lines before the battle. "Nearly Headless Nick! That's what the wee students call 'im," the ghost cackled. "Poor ickle Nick, can't ever join the headless hunt."
"Thank you, Peeves, for that lovely reminder," Nick stated hotly, his pearly hue turning more opaque.
Jazz frowned. "Well, that isn't a very nice thing to call you," she commented to make the ghost feel better.
"The words of children are but a grain of sand against a mighty fortress," Nick shrugged, regaining his composure.
"What do two American children know about our humble school?" the monk of the group asked.
"Our brother, Harry Potter, goes there," Jazz answered.
A silence fell amongst the group.
"Come on, he can't be that bad," Danny chuckled. The bloody ghost let out a boisterous laugh.
"Aye, lad," he agreed. "Bit of a rascal that one."
"Harry Potter is a noble student!" Nick argued, shaken from his stupor.
"We shared a toilet together all last year," the young girl added fondly. Danny and Jazz gave her a funny look.
"Woulda been better in my House if you ask me," the bloody ghost stated.
"I daresay you are wrong, Baron, he's right where he belongs," Nick stated proudly, puffing out his chest.
"Bah, you get all the bleeding hearts," Baron grumped.
Danny felt a smile grow on his face. Despite Harry's attitude at home, he was still the kind brother he knew.
"Do you think you can give him a letter from- oh," Jazz had tried to put a hand on the friar's shoulder but shivered as her hand went through.
"My apologies, child, we are but shades," the ghost explained. "The only things we can touch are from the Infinite Realms."
Unfazed, Jazz smiled, "How about a message then?" The monk nodded, and she proceeded to whisper in his ear.
Once they were finished, Danny shifted uneasily. "Um, when you do tell Harry, could you not mention my involvement with ghosts?" he asked. "He doesn't know anything yet, and I kinda want to be the one to tell him."
Jazz raised a brow at him skeptically.
"Of course," the friar replied.
Satisfied, Danny looked around at the milling ghosts. "How are you guys getting home?"
"There's a ghost that can create a portal to anywhere," Nick answered.
"Wulf," Danny smiled.
Nick nodded. "He's been taking groups one at a time, but it's the quickest way. We're not sure when he'll take us so we've been waiting here."
"Why don't you guys use our portal? Or Vlad's?" Danny asked.
"The public doesn't know Vlad has a portal, and a suspicious amount of ghosts leaving from there would raise questions," Jazz explained. She hesitated. "As for Mom and Dad, they haven't been quite on board with letting the ghosts use the portal."
Oh.
The pieces were slowly falling into place as an uneasy feeling began to grow.
The lady of the ghost group spoke before Danny could dwell further. "Sir Nicholas, I think you've successfully talked the boy's ear off. Now let's leave them be," she snapped.
The friar nodded. "I'm sure you have much to orchestrate with your new duties, Danny."
"I abdicated," Danny refuted stubbornly. Nick gave him a pitiful smile before bowing respectfully.
As the group turned to leave, the lady lingered. In her eyes was harsh judgment. "You're denying your role like a child."
"I am a child," Danny replied bluntly.
She narrowed her eyes. "I expected better from Pariah's Bane. Deny it all you want, but you can never run from what you did. You killed the man and now his responsibilities are yours." She stalked away before Danny could reply, not that he knew what he'd say.
Instead, he watched her go with a sinking feeling. His light mood had been snuffed out and was quickly being replaced with darker thoughts.
"Danny, she was out of line to tell you what to do. It's okay to say you are not ready to rule an entire dimension, especially at your age," Jazz reasoned. "You and Pariah…. You were just doing what you had to to survive."
Danny sighed and turned to his sister. "Jazz, you've been skirting the topic of Mom and Dad all day, just tell me what's going on."
She looked at her brother, unsure. She wanted him to bask in the joys of his success for as long as possible, but reality kept creeping back, begging to be revealed. "Perhaps this would be better to discuss after you've rested a bit more. You look exhausted," she commented with concern.
Danny looked at her squarely. "I can handle it, Jazz. If you don't tell me I'll just expect the worst."
Seeing that he wasn't going to back down, she relented. "Fine, but let's talk on our way home."
As the pair made their way, Jazz hesitated and said, "Mom and Dad haven't been taking this whole human-ghost truce very well."
Danny could already tell where this was going. "They're still adamant that ghosts are the spawn of the devil?" he asked humorlessly.
Jazz gave him a sad look. "Yes."
Figures. "How's everyone else handling them?"
"So far, they have just been ignoring them."
Danny raised a brow. "And what have they been doing to retaliate against being ignored?"
Jazz let out a defeated sigh. She hated that their parents were so set in their violent ways that there wasn't any doubt that they would fight back. "What they think is right. They attacked one of the yetis who was giving first aid to Dash. The people in the encampment ran them out, but many were hurt in the process. The police wanted to arrest Mom and Dad, but we told them we'd keep an eye on them in case they get trigger happy again. That's why Sam and Tucker are home; they're making sure they don't leave again."
Danny felt the uneven concrete below him as he took in the information. Finally, he let out a breath of air. "Sounds about right," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry, Danny."
"They're your parents, too," he deflected. Scoffing, he added, "Did they even notice I was dying on the couch?"
The silent frown was enough of a response.
"So, you're telling me, that for how ever many days I was out-"
"Three days."
"Thre-Wait, seriously?"
"I repeat, never scare me like that again."
"They didn't even notice I was there ?!" he yelled in frustration. "They had to have passed the couch, what, twenty times? When they were preparing weapons, planning the attack or even moping when they had failed? How could they not have noticed?"
"Danny…"
"They didn't use to be this way," he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Jazz gave him a skeptical look. "Didn't they?"
"Sure they were absentminded and forgetful, but they still cared about us. Now we're just an afterthought. Once the portal turned on, we no longer existed." He kicked a rock miserably. The pain in his leg dulled the one in his heart. "Our family's broken, Jazz."
"It's broken," she agreed. "But not lost. It can be fixed."
He stopped abruptly and gave her the most unconvinced glare. His voice exuded contempt when he said, "You think so? Then tell me, what are their thoughts on Phantom?"
He didn't take any pleasure in watching her shoulders slump. "You already know their thoughts, Danny," she replied tiredly.
"If they had an ounce of humility, they would see they were wrong."
"They won't see what they don't want to see," she tried to reason.
"Harry had the right idea when he left. Who needs family when this is what we got?"
Jazz frowned. "Harry's coming back, Danny. His year is ending in a week or so, and he'll be here for the whole summer."
"He's only coming back because he has to, not because he wants to. How are we going to explain all this?" He waved emphatically at an upturned car. "How is he going to react when we tell him that the king of ghosts and his army attacked this backwater town? Would he even believe us?"
"Look around Danny. How could he not? How could he deny it when you show him Phantom?"
Danny looked away. "I don't know if I want Harry to know anymore," he admitted softly.
Jazz deadpanned. "What?"
He avoided her penetrating gaze. "I just… It's just….. Look, he left because we weren't magic enough for him. I don't want him to take an interest in us again because of Phantom. I-I just want Fenton to be enough for him." He let out the breath he had been holding. He had thought that saying his thoughts out loud would make him feel better, but it only made him feel worse.
An arm wrapped around his shoulder. "He's enough for me," Jazz said, giving him a squeeze.
"Maybe too much," Danny grumbled, before giving her a serious look. Jazz was better at hiding her emotions, but he knew she was dealing with her own frustrations. "Thanks for trying," he began. Jazz sent him a perplexed look. "Last ni-well I, uh, guess it was a few nights ago at this point, hmm this is weird," he said, shaking his head to get his thoughts in order. "What I'm trying to say is thanks for trying to talk them off the ledge. Even though they didn't listen."
Jazz's eyes lit with recognition as they both revisited the night Maddie and Jack had a bazooka trained on Danny's face while hatred covered theirs.
Her face was unreadable until she broke into a wry smile. "What is this? I thought I was the sappy one."
Danny hummed. "Must run in the family. Dad still chokes up when he watches that movie about the three-legged dog."
"Ugh, don't remind me. The first five needlepoints of 'Trike' were bad enough," she grimaced.
Danny chuckled. "Seriously, Jazz. Our family may be broken, but at least we have each other."
She lightly bumped his shoulder only to apologize profusely when he fell, wincing into the brink wall next to them. He let a pained sigh and laid his head against the cool mortar to ground himself.
Seeing that he was alright, Jazz laughed. "Man, for a king you sure are delicate," she teased.
"Not a king," came a disgruntled response.
"Excuse me?" The pair looked up to see a woman in a loud Hawaiian shirt. The shirt would not have been as noticeable if it wasn't accompanied by a clashing tie and plaid pencil skirt. To finish the bizarre ensemble were a pair of steel-toed boots on her feet and a carpet bag on her arm.
"Can we help you?" Jazz asked, debating whether she should risk elbowing her brother again, if only to stop his ill-concealed laughter.
"I believe you can," the woman replied in a sharp, proper voice. No woman with that kind of voice would have been caught dead in that kind of outfit. "My name is Jenny and I work for the Federal Bureaucrats of Investigation. We got some strange readings of a substance called ectoplasm in this area. Judging by the looks of the town, I can't help but think something happened here that might have been the cause of such readings."
Danny exchanged a look with Jazz before giving the woman a skeptical look. "Don't you already have the GiW stationed here? Aren't they in charge of paranormal activities?"
Jenny let out a laugh that sounded fake. "That's not how the government works, son."
Jazz frowned. "But it is how the government works. I used to volunteer at City Hall and each branch is given special funding for their field. It wouldn't make sense for a branch that works with law enforcement to involve themselves in something as ridiculous as ghosts readings in town. They would've passed the information on to the agency that is responsible, and let them handle it."
"Good old 'public servants,'" he drawled sarcastically. "If they can dump it on someone else, they wouldn't spare it a second glance."
Jazz pressed on. "It doesn't seem like you understand the inner workings of your own government and your clear lack of common acronyms only confirms that you're not from the FBI."
"It's 'Federal Bureau of Investigation,'" Danny smirked. "And who even says the full name?"
"And judging by your oddly put together outfit-"
"-And poorly concealed wand-"
"-You're clearly a witch trying to discreetly discover what happened here to see if magic intervention is needed."
"Which it isn't," Danny finished, crossing his arms.
The witch began to sputter, her eyes moving from one sibling to the other. "You know?"
"A word of advice, do your research before taking a cover. And pick a better disguise," Danny smirked.
The lady looked down at her outfit, baffled that the clothing did not properly disguise her. Through her puzzlement, Jazz decided to throw her a bone. "Harry Potter is our brother."
As she spoke, Jenny's face soured. "Great," the witch muttered. "Celebrities."
"Rude," Danny pointed out. "Harry's influence has never gone to my head." He then sent a grin at Jazz. "Our mayor on the other hand…" Jazz rolled her eyes in response.
"What my brother is trying to say is that Harry may be our brother, but he is not as well known in these parts. No one knows who he really is."
"Hmm…" The lady looked at the pair and seemed to think for a moment before coming to a decision. "You'll work perfectly then." She opened her carpet bag and began rifling through it. "I still can't believe they called me down here." Without looking at the Fenton siblings, she asked, "Has anything strange happened here in town recently?"
The pair watched the lady as her arm went deeper and deeper in her bag. "Something like a ghost talking to people?" Danny asked, not taking his eyes off the disappearing arm.
The woman nodded, hand briefly pulling out a piece of parchment before going back into her bag. "Yes, something like that should be reported."
"How about a herd of ectopuses floating down main street?" Jazz chimed in.
"Hmm… never heard of those, are they related to grindylows?" Jenny asked absentmindedly. The bag appeared to be a miniature TARDIS, if the missing arm was anything to go by. It was clearly larger on the inside.
Danny had planned to exchange a questioning look with Jazz at the bizarre name, only to find she knew what the lady was talking about. She shrugged.
"What about a portal opening without warning?" Danny asked, returning to the task at hand.
"Oh that wouldn't be too bad; most no-majs tend not to notice natural portals forming," Jenny's muffled voice stated. Her faint voice could be attributed to her head going into the bag as well. "Oh, I know I brought one with me!"
"But what if ghosts started coming out of the portal?" Jazz asked the distracted witch.
"That wouldn't be very good, especially if a no-maj saw them," she answered absentmindedly.
"What if they were running from a giant ghost army that decided to subjugate mankind?" Danny offered.
"Oh dear. That would be dreadful," she hummed.
"And then some hare-brained dufus accidently surrendered, causing the whole town to be transported to the Ghost Zone," Jazz sent Danny a glare.
"Hey!-" Danny tried to protest, but Jazz wouldn't let him have it.
"-Which caused an all-out war where ghosts and humans fought for their lives-"
"-Uniting the two groups into a friendly truce," Danny beamed proudly.
"By the skin of our teeth," Jazz inputted, not relenting on her glare. Danny gave a sheepish smile.
"Aha!" Jenny exclaimed, retracting her arm and drawing the pair's attention. They spotted delicate feathers with a pointed tip. She gave a small laugh. "You know, I could have just found the blasted thing with a quick summoning spell, but what kind of an example would I be setting in doing magic in front of a no-maj. Even if you are in the know…" Holding the quill and parchment, she began writing. "Now then. Anything you said would be something that we'd need to look into. With readings this high I might need to send in the recovery team. They might need to do a mass memory charm and that always causes problems for us."
"For you ?" Danny sputtered, before receiving an elbow to the ribs.
The witch missed the exchange as she was distracted by her notepad. Looking up, she pleasantly asked, "So, has anything happened recently involving ghosts, goblins- god forbid giants or werewolves- Anything remotely magical?"
Jazz and Danny met the witch's eye. "Nope," they both said in unison.
"Nothing strange at all," Jazz stated.
"Just boring old Amity Park," Danny added.
"Your readings must have been faulty," Jazz supplied.
"Cause nothing ever happens here," Danny finished.
"Are you sure? Something must have happened…" Jenny commented, looking at the upturned car.
"An Earthquake hit a little over a week ago," Jazz supplied. She gestured at the car. "As you can see, we are still recovering," she gave a sad sigh, garnering some sympathy from the gullible witch. "It hasn't been easy for us and repairs have been slow."
Danny watched Jenny fall for Jazz's explanation with envy. Sure he had gotten better at lying, but Jazz was on a whole other level.
"I recommend coming back in a couple of weeks and checking with the local seismologist. They'll be able to confirm with you the readings."
"Regardless, there was no magic involved and there's no need to 'send a team'," Danny added quickly. He did not want to deal with self-righteous wizards erasing the town's memory to 'preserve order'.
Jenny finished writing her notes and gave Jazz a smile. "That is an excellent suggestion, young lady. I am truly sorry that you and your town are going through some difficult times, but at least you still have your lives.
"Or half of one," Danny muttered under his breath.
"Thank you for checking in. If you have any more questions, you can send me an owl," Jazz offered.
"Well aren't you helpful," the witch commented pleasantly. "Thank you very much."
The woman quickly packed her notes and shook their hands. With a pop she was gone. The siblings stared at the place she had been.
"All that schmoozing makes me want to barf," Danny commented.
Jazz rolled her eyes and resumed their walk home.
"And the owl comment?" Danny asked, matching her pace.
"It didn't seem like she really wanted to be here so she'll probably just check in with the earthquake people and let it go," she said offhandedly. "But if she gets more interested, I want to control the information she gets. If she's asking me the questions, I can direct away from the true causes."
Danny whistled in amazement. "Has anyone told you you'd be a great spy?"
Jazz smiled. "I would at least get my names right."
"Wait! So you don't belong to the Central Iguana Agency?" he asked in shock.
"No, sad, misinformed citizen, it's the Center for Intelligent Arachnids."
Danny grinned. "Ooooh! You guys are the Spy-ders! Spinning webs of lies and deceit for unassuming villains who claim they're doing the world good."
Jazz laughed, "You're ridiculous."
The heavy conversations of the day were buried as the pair continued to banter back and forth. They weren't gone for good, and would resurface later that night, but now was not the time for it. Now was the time for stupid puns and acronyms that made no sense as the siblings reconnected using any small comfort they could take.
"Cheer up, Harry! We've passed all our classes!" Ron exclaimed. He had a point, too. Harry didn't need divinations to know that Snape had it out for him. Despite his week-long determination to make Harry's life extra miserable, the potions teacher still had some dignity as an educator. He was probably avoiding the headmaster banging on his office door for failing a student out of spite, but the point stood. He had passed potions, not with flying colors, but by enough to go without remedial potions next year.
"Yippee," Harry muttered sarcastically. His friends didn't deserve his less than cheerful mood, but he couldn't help it. He was still bothered by the results of last week's adventure. He had foolishly chosen to save Pettigrew only for him to slip away to join Voldemort. With no proof of innocence, Sirius had been forced to flee in the night with Buckbeak, and Harry hadn't heard anything since. He supposed, much to his dismay, that that was a good thing. If the authorities had caught the man it would have been all over The Prophet.
Lupin had fled the following morning. Harry wasn't the only person to suffer from Snape's ire; he had exposed Lupin's werewolf status to the entire student body. Instead of realizing that the teacher they had all come to love was going through trying times and needed their support, the student body acted as though he was a stranger. All loyalties were forgotten in favor of spouting lies about the man. Even now Harry could still hear people talking about it.
"I went to see him once during office hours, and I swear I saw fangs."
"He once snarled at Neville when he got too close to him."
"Who knows what meat he was eating at the staff table. I bet it was one of the students who failed his class."
"Last week they were raving about how Lupin was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they've ever had," Harry growled.
"They're vile," Hermione agreed, glaring at the snickering Lavender and Parvati.
They were in the Great Hall for their final feast before going home the following morning. The Hall was decorated in red and gold to celebrate Gryffindor's win in the House Championship.
"Not you too," Ron complained. He was struggling to have fun despite his friends' gloomy vibes. "You both should be celebrating more than anyone else!" In a lower voice he added, "You saved Buckbeak and Sirius! They're both alive because of you."
"Doesn't change what happened to Pettigrew and Lupin," Harry responded glumly. "Doesn't change the fact that I'll still have to endure the summer without magic and," he released a shudder, "go to muggle summer school." It had been nice imagining time with Sirius and seeing Ron and Hermione throughout the summer.
"Well the world cup will be in England this year. Dad's going to try to get us some tickets. I'll try to convince him to let you come. You've never seen a real quidditch match until you've watched the pros."
Harry perked up. Jack and Maddie were pretty caught up with ghosts right now. He could see them letting him go. Just as he was going to voice this, a large green swirl opened up in the middle of the Great Hall.
Recognizing the mysterious glow, McGonagall stood up and pointed. "Albus, that's-"
A giant furry creature dropped onto Hufflepuff's table causing several students to jump up and stumble backward.
"It's Lupin! He's back for revenge!" a student shouted. Harry scoffed, but took a closer look. Disregarding the ominous glow surrounding the creature, it did look like Lupin when he was a werewolf. The creature wore a large hoodie over his head, but his long doglike snout and sharp claws gave himself away. With his glowing pair of green eyes he looked around the room before stopping and glaring at McGonagall's outstretched wand. He released a dangerous growl.
Before anyone could move, Nearly Headless Nick poked his head out of the green swirl. "Fantastic, Wulf! You are certainly good at what you do," he exclaimed, before noticing the tense air. Seeing the Transfigurations professor ready to duke it out with the ghost wolf, Nick waved his hands frantically. "That won't be necessary, Minerva. Wulf here was just bringing us home." To prove his point, more Hogwarts' ghosts floated out of the swirl. They smiled as they joined their house tables while others flew out to reconnect with their haunts. Nick gave the wolf a disarming pat on the head, but the wolf kept his narrowed eyes on McGonagall's lowering wand.
Ron let out a disappointed breath of air. "I would have paid money to see that fight," he whispered to Harry. Harry smirked in agreement.
"Splendid!' Dumbledore clapped. "What better way to celebrate tonight than with the return of our most cherished ghosts."
The students gave mixed responses. Some clapped boisterously, where others gave half-hearted cheers. Ron, however, released a derisive snort. Harry couldn't help but agree with him; Peeves was anything but cherished.
"You must regale me with your adventures but for now, you and your guest are welcome to join in on our House Championship celebrations."
The students near the ghosts shifted away while the rest murmured dissent.
"What is he doing asking that thing to sit with us?"
"We just got rid of one werewolf; doesn't he know how dangerous they are?"
"He probably hired Lupin knowing he's a werewolf."
Nick bowed lowly. "Thank you, Dumbledore, but I'm afraid my friend has other ghosts to tend to." Turning to the wolf he smiled. "Wulf, I don't know how we can ever repay you. You have my utmost thanks." He gave another bow and added, "And please give Phantom my thanks as well when you get back to Amity. God knows where we'd be without him." The wolf nodded, licked Nick's face, and disappeared in the green swirl. The swirl dissipated behind him and dinner slowly resumed its course.
Harry furrowed his brow. Nick couldn't have meant Amity Park… right? He couldn't help but think that the name 'Phantom' sounded familiar, too.
"Classic Hogwarts, just when you think it's winding down, some crazy ghosts jump out of a- whatever that was," Ron stated as they returned to their seats.
"It was a portal," Hermione commented. "Into the Infinite Realms. They must have come from there."
"Well Wulf can only create portals to and from the Realms, so of course we had to go through there first," Friar commented next to them. Harry jumped and Ron unintentionally sprayed his drink through the ghost.
Hermione, who had seen the ghost coming, ignored the boys and asked, "If he's a ghost, how can he create portals but you cannot?"
"Shades are made with less ectoplasm. We are merely echoes of our previous lives, doomed to watch but never interfere with the physical world," he replied with a sad smile.
"Well words can brighten someone's day, or give guidance in decision making," Hermione reasoned, trying to cheer the ghost up.
"Thank you for your kind words," Friar said. Turning to Harry, he added, "We can also carry messages for those who do not have an owl. Harry, someone wants me to tell you to, pardon my French, but to 'get your butt over here to celebrate our graduation into high school.' I'm not sure what high school is, Potter, but congratulations on your grand accomplishment."
"Thanks," Harry replied flatly, "But I'm not going to high school. Hogwarts doesn't have a high school."
"Jazz probably doesn't know that," Hermione commented, correctly guessing who sent the message.
"Just another thing I'll have to explain when I don't go home with Sirius," he grumbled.
Hermione frowned, but before she could say anything, Dean Thomas leaned over and asked, "Did you say Sirius? As in Sirius Black? I heard he was spotted near Hogsmeade last week. It explains why the dementors haven't been seen since then."
"Really?" Friar asked, showing an uncharacteristic amount of curiosity. "You said they left last week?"
Dean nodded and Friar scratched his beard in thought.
Leaving him to his musings, Harry turned to Ron. "If your Dad is thinking of buying World Cup tickets, I can help pay. Seriously, I don't know what I'd do if I have to spend a whole summer without magic again."
Ron gave a food-filled response that no one understood.
Hermione gave them both a disapproving look, then turned back to Fat Friar. "If you talked to Jazz, then you must have come from Amity Park," she surmised, drawing the ghost out of his musings.
"Yes, that's correct," Nick answered, coming up and sitting next to Friar. "You are very clever!"
"Why were you over there?"
"Well I won't go into too much detail, I want to talk to Dumbledore first you see, but something terrible befell many ghosts, until a young ghost by the name Phantom," he gave Harry a wink, much to his confusion, "risked his li-afterlife to save us."
Harry snapped his fingers as recognition hit. "Oh, I know who you're talking about!" Friar beamed proudly. "My parents hate that ghost! All I ever hear from them is how he terrorized the town and cause mayhem left and right. It's always, 'that ghost scum needs to learn that no one wants him here,' or 'Jack, I can't wait to see what's inside that ghost menace,'" Harry scoffed, "Even the mayor said he wants him gone."
As Harry talked, the smile slid from Friar's face and horror grew. "His parents?" he asked.
Nick looked furious. "You listen here, Harry," he spat, gray particles flying through the air, though hitting no one, "Phantom is a hero. The fact that someone says otherwise is just despicable."
"They're my parents, you git!" Harry yelled. Sure he felt the same way sometimes, but that didn't excuse someone else saying it.
Nick stood abruptly. "You and your parents clearly need a lesson in manners." Sticking his nose up in the air, he stormed off to the other side of the table. With his mind clearly elsewhere, Friar followed him.
"Harry, you were just saying how terrible the person that had saved them was. I think Nick defending him was a natural reaction," Hermione commented.
"I don't care. Just thinking about my parents and going back there makes me sick. You know, if they spent an ounce of their time outside of themselves, I might actually want to go home. Instead I get 'Sorry we missed your birthday Harry, but now we can spend it with someone you hate,' or 'we're too busy arguing with each other or ranting about ghosts to notice you're even home, Harry.' Well I'm sick of it."
Ron laughed shakily. "I'm not sure what an ounce is, mate."
Harry glared at him before grumbling incoherently in his arms. "This all wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't let Pettigrew go."
"Showing mercy is never something to regret, Harry," Hermione stated. "It's what makes you a good person."
"I just don't want to go home," he grumbled.
Hermione hesitated. It was a good indication that he wouldn't like what she was going to say next. "I didn't want to say it before, but going to live with Sirius wasn't a practical solution. I really doubt Dumbledore or any other adult would have let you go with him." Yep, there it was.
"I get it, Hermione. Nothing is going to save me from going home."
"It's only for a couple of months. And they might not show it very often, but your parents do love you. Danny and Jazz love you."
Tired of the feast, Harry stood up. "Ron, you'll let me know about the tickets, yeah?"
Mouth full of pudding, Ron spouted, "O' corsh!"
"Right. Well I'll see you guys tomorrow." He left before they could say anything else.
Hermione looked at Ron. "Living with muggles is not as bad as Harry seems to have it."
Ron swallowed thickly. "If you say so."
A/N - Welp, here's the conclusion to my Pariah Dark arc. I'm currently working through their summer together which spans a few chapters. As many of you are surmising, it'll be a crucial part of this fic and I want to make it as believable as possible. That being said, and the end of school year quickly approaching, I will be taking my time editing this section. I hope this longer chapter can stave your hunger until then;)