"Blimey, that's insane," Ron muttered, not touching his roasted potatoes. "I'm surprised Fenton is still here."

Harry turned towards the staff table, seeing the young professor eat his lunch. From the outset, it didn't look like he was worried at all. This, coupled with how murderous Umbridge looked, everyone could figure out that Danny was there to stay.

"How did he pull that off, though?" Hermione whispered questioningly. "Umbridge can sack any teacher she wants. And look at how angry she is."

"She is gonna begin croaking any time now," Ron cackled.

"Then she failed to fire him," concluded Harry. "Do you think it is something Dumbledore said?"

"Or maybe it was Fenton himself," Mumbled Hermione.

"You can't be serious, Hermione," the raven-haired teen said, "Look at him."

As he said it, Danny cheerfully emptied a goblet with pumpkin juice and wiped his mouth.

"Harry, we all know something is off about him."

"Come on, you don't believe those rumours about him are true, right?" Harry asked.

"About his crimes? After being wrong about our teachers three times out of four, I'm cautious about making claims. Something doesn't add up though."

"What do you mean?"

"His grades weren't better than yours. He was expelled. And yet, you see how Fenton teaches. What was he doing during the last five years to be an expert like this?"

Harry's expression suddenly gained clarity. "Ghosts."

"What?"

"It's obvious, isn't it? How they talk about him, why Peeves is afraid and why he knows so much about them."

"I don't get how that makes him so good."

"Honestly Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes, "He was involved in some dangerous activities. That's probably what made him strong."

"Nothing bad about it, though," said Harry.

"Yes, but how come nobody knows about him then? Shouldn't a man who has done so much be famous not only with ghosts?"

"Maybe he just doesn't like publicity."

"We should investigate."

"Hermione, we have homework," Ron deadpanned.

"You could have done it beforehand," Mumbled Hermione and sighed, "Yes, we should concentrate on studying for now."

"We would expect nothing else from you, prefect," said one George Weasley, emerging behind them alongside his inseparable brother.

"Always hard at work to keep us all safe and her mind filled," added Fred. "Don't be so hard on the teach. He is neat."

"A master we all can learn from," said George dramatically, putting a hand over his heart.

"Are you still trying to get him?" Ron asked.

"That we do, we aren't going to surrender that easily."

"Problem is, he is one step ahead."

"From that box he confiscated he knows all the tricks we have, so we need to come up with new ones. That's quite exciting, isn't it, brother?"

"Indeed it is. We are actually suspecting that he got Peeves involved."

"What makes you say this?"

"Fenton knows every nook and cranny we use. Aside from that little piece of paper Harry has, the only way he can learn about them is to talk with ghosts."

"But why Peeves?"

"I don't exactly think Nick or Baron would encourage this."

"Fair point. Have you noticed anything strange?"

"Hermione..."

"What? I'm trying to understand who we are dealing with."

"Nothing, really," answered Fred, "Aside from the fact that he is as sneaky as a gnome."

"As a ghost more like," Ron mumbled, stabbing a small potato with a fork. "He really likes playing the part."

Harry thought about it harder. From how Umbridge presented it, and what Danny was like, the teen could only guess that it was natural for the man to be this way. Yes, he was often polite, cheerful and friendly, but he probably wasn't always like this. He didn't look strong, he was a descendant of a mass murderer of wizard folk. It could be understood that he was probably bullied in school. Harry realised this because he and Dudley Dursley lived under the same roof. Before he got his wand and could bluff, his living arrangements were subpar. So, Danny probably had to be sneaky to avoid unwanted attention. And it probably was rubbing off on him even now. The thought made him sad for a moment, but after seeing him act so cheerful, it made him believe that the man was alright now. More or less.

Speaking of whom, the topic of the kids' conversation soon got up and set out of the Great Hall. His mind was in fact busy processing not the upcoming lesson, but the words he had heard when spying on his colleagues and his boss. To be frank, he was pissed at how distrustful most of them were. It wasn't anything new, they already were keeping him in the dark during the summer. But it wasn't just some small secret, was it? They now suspected him to be on Voldemort's side. Him, a muggle born wizard, for crying out loud. That double-faced, spectacle-wearing bastard in charge of school was toying with him. He thought that Danny would just sit around and let them spy on him. Fenton had prevented a scandal with a tiny exchange and the man just put a label of his own on him. The young professor sighed and leaned against a wall.

"Shouldn't have hired me in the first place," he whispered angrily. And if someone could see him, the ominous green, deathly glow would be seen emanating from his eyes. Suddenly he was at fault for everything. Again.

Was he really that scary? Was what he did unintentionally frightening? Danny protected not only himself, but potentially the school by having the Inquisitor in his pocket. It led him to make a simple decision. Shall someone from the actual staff get sacked, he won't raise a damn finger to stop a toad from having a fight with a viper. He was consumed by a well-conceived anger, and it killed even his nascent desire to assist the collective. His ghostly part had its say, and no matter how kind he could try to appear, the grudge-bearing nature of spectres prevented him from forgiving things on the next day.

Perhaps it was selfish, self-centred. They had their concerns. Dumbledore was worried about the Dark Lord, and Danny was a spammer in everyone's works. A secretive, unknown spammer that was also, apparently, dangerous with his level of knowledge. If they knew what the man was actually capable of, it would not alleviate any concerns. It would only increase them. It was also his fault to some extent, because it was Danny who kept those secrets. A very reasonable fear, it was. But, again, just fire him if you are so paranoid, then. Not that Danny wanted it, but that factor was still annoying. What was even more vexing, is that the young professor actually needed Snape's help. The young man knew that Severus was not going to come to him immediately, to avoid suspicion. Give him a week or so. But Danny did not intend to wait until some other incident occurred. Better milk that cow for all it was worth. Next time they met, Danny was going to ask him directly once again.

"Professor?"

Danny blinked and turned towards the source of the voice. There, a fourth year blonde girl was standing, wearing carton spectacles with red and blue lenses. An odd sight all round.

"Lovegood, was it? Is there something you need?"

"Our class is soon," she said dreamily as always, "Shouldn't you go there before it starts?"

"I was intending to," Danny grumbled softly. "And what are you doing here?"

"I heard there is a Crumple-Horned Snorkack nearby."

"I doubt it can get on school grounds."

"I know, but as I was going through the corridor anyways, I thought I could still check."

"Are you sure they weren't messing with you on purpose?" Asked Danny with concern.

"I'm not sure," Luna mumbled, "You sound like you have seen Snorkack before."

The professor smirked, "As a matter of fact, I have. It's not from Sweden, however. And they can become invisible, the buggers."

The girl's eyes widened, "You have actually met them."

"And I even caught a couple, believe it or not. But I always released dangerous things back to their habitats."

"Snorkacks aren't dangerous," Luna argued seriously. "They eat truffles and insects."

"They like coming where they don't belong. And when scared, they can react violently. That horn of theirs is not for show, I'm telling you," Danny looked at his wrist watch. "Yikes, we are being late. I think we should hurry."

Danny neglected to mention the part that Snorkacks did not belong not only to Sweden, but to this whole plane of existence. The world of the dead had a lot of bizarre inhabitants. They in particular were quite a bother, since they could sense the rifts between dimensions and just loved to cross over, much to the dismay of the one who had tasked himself with keeping such creatures inside their own place. Not just for the safety of others, but for their own, too. Wizarding kind was far from accepting, he had come to learn. They didn't always appreciate it, they resisted, but Danny was sure that he was doing the right thing. Normal poltergeists and incorporeal spirits were a common thing in England, so Danny wasn't concerned about them. In France, he had heard, the treatment was harsher. He would have to visit when he was done with his project. Being able to carve the path himself was making his job much easier.

He really needed to talk with Severus afterwards.

And he found the Potions master quite soon, during lunch, when he was eating in a solitude of his little dungeon. Danny entered the classroom without knocking, getting himself an immediate scowl. Despite his grievance, the young professor smiled.

"I'm always surprised to see you indulge in humanly desires," he commented.

Snape kept glaring at his visitor. "What do you need, Fenton?"

"Straight to the point, huh? Well, I was wondering if you have reconsidered my offer. Remember that one?"

Snape's look softened, but it still was a glare. "What has brought this up all of a sudden?" He asked.

"Well, now that Umbridge is off my back, I am more than happy to go on with my work. So, what do you say?"

Severus was not dumb. At first he suspected that Danny knew something. A perk of always being gloomy is that at situations like this his face did not change, no matter what he thought. But how could Danny learn that? All Heads of houses were discreet and would not just blather it all. Could he eavesdrop on someone's conversation? That was certainly possible. Very well, Severus decided. He would take the bait. But not immediately.

"You are still on probation, Fenton. I wouldn't rely on your blackmail to last."

"Maybe," Danny shrugged. "Oh, what am I saying, she will find out that I'm bluffing eventually."

He was letting Snape in on the plan to lure him into a false sense of security.

"Bluffing?"

"Well," Danny rubbed the back of his neck. "I got her, but the warden never talked to me, actually. And he certainly won't testify as I said he would. I am hoping I pass the examination before she finds out so that she has less arguments to sack me by that time."

"She has already written to the Minister, no doubt. Fenton, you are walking on an awfully thin ice."

"I will never get tired of telling you: I've got it covered."

"How did you even get blackmail if the warden never even saw you?"

Danny hummed. "I have some acquaintances who have ways of extracting information. Legally, of course. I honour the book of law."

"Is this along the lines of 'I'm permitted to do it because nobody says otherwise?'"

"I'm glad we understand each other so well, Severus!" Danny lightly clapped. "So what do you say?"

Snape tapped on the table, "First I have to look at what you have already done."

"I keep a journal," Danny grinned. "I'll fetch it after the classes are over."

And the professor kept his promise. He had also checked if the information in it did not compromise his identity in any way. With how professional Danny tried to be, there were only necessary details. A couple of things could reveal the truth if you derailed from the original meanings and terms. In the evening Severus received a small notebook in the red leather cover, now having to spend the rest of it reading what his lesser liked colleague had scribbled over the ears. Luckily Severus was a hard-working man, he didn't have anything to check, because it had all been dealt with by then. Sitting in his office, under the light of a lit lamp, Severus first opened a random page just to understand what he was dealing with. At the top, there was a special line for writing down dates.

'12 April, 1994

Found a new supplier yesterday. For the time being the ectoplasm will be in abundance.

This is the attempt #123. Bezoar has shown to possess a volatile reaction when mixed in with ectoplasm. Its decomposition and latter mixing with Sulphur indicates the acidity of the liquid when in contact with Nitrogen in particular, abundant in each Bezoar. Tried to see if there is any way to negate the effect before I try anything else. I have resorted to the alkali in my disposal (note to self, find some limewater). Sodium hydroxide, lye, potassium hydroxide were tried alongside limewater. Only NaOH has shown potency. Decomposition was halted for the time of reaction. The experiments in that direction will have to be stopped for the time being. I don't see the potential of going there now.'

Snape hummed in thought. The boy had an interesting approach to Potions. It was like muggle chemistry more than anything. It is them who always looked at the components of periodic table. Snape himself was no stranger to the thing. Even if it was an uncharted territory for the Potions master. They always judged ingredients for their magical merits, and tried to bring out said merits. Those who walked the borderline were alchemists. It was very difficult, because it required knowledge of both aspects. Danny was somewhat amateur from what he could see, but Fenton was not on the level of Longbottom, that's for sure. Snape decided to look at the very start of the journal.

'21 May, 1993

So, I bought a journal. Not sure how I should start this thing. My parents' work is all gone, so I am planning on putting down my own research down to...maybe compensate it. Somehow. It will be hard, I'll need decades to replace everything they wrote. Stupid me, I should have taken at least a couple of tubes with blueprints. I think a good start to that will be retracing Mom and Dad's... and Vlad's footsteps. It will be difficult, I'm aware. But if I succeed, I get free ectoplasm for my future plans and experiments, as well as much needed contacts. That's the best plan for the future I've got. It took them five years to create a prototype, so I guess it will take quite a while for me as well.'

This part confused Severus. Fenton's parents were muggles, he did not deny that. What in the world were they researching that involved ectoplasm? It was a material found only among ghosts, and those were kept in check by the Ministry. In hopes for an answer, Snape looked through the yellowish pages, but right from the next one, there were only research notes up until the very end. Fenton's commitment was undeniable, he had been at work for two years by then. This plan of his, however, was not his only focus. Occasionally Danny had been distracted by side-projects, some of which baffled the professor with their bizarre nature. Why would a research journal be riddled with notes about a 'Fenton thermos' or, heaven-forbid, 'Boo-merang'. That's got to be a joke. Otherwise, Snape could only reason that the boy had an inflated ego. And was very unimaginative with names. Severus was obviously not getting much vital information from that little red book. Danny wouldn't have given it if the journal was not safe. But some interesting words did occasionally come up. There were other letters written over them to make the words impossible to decipher.

But he got a basic understanding of what the boy had been doing so far. Danny had narrowed the search over the years, and he was still following the basic procedures of coming up with new potions. A greater question was whether or not he should actually assist the young man in creating...something. Snape didn't read everything, and he certainly took notice of a couple of ripped out pages. Danny certainly had things to hide. But there were also no indications that whatever the young man was doing posed danger to anyone. Snape ultimately decided that he would make an actual input. Lest the boy blew something up. Having made up his mind, Severus met with Danny the following morning at the nexus of all life in the school.

Having taken a seat at the Staff table, Snape began stating his condition for assistance. The experiments were to be conducted in a safe environment, which meant relocating the equipment to the dungeons, closer to the dwelling of 'the greasy bat'. Snape chose to neglect the jabs at his expense. If ignored, he might just stop this. Hopefully. Danny was obviously perplexed at the idea, and didn't like leaving his toys to be fiddled with by a person he secretly distrusted, but eventually conceded. Danny's own inventions were left where they were, however. Snape, however, made it clear that their first shared experiment couldn't take place earlier than the weekend. Danny was fine with that, he too had a job, as well as certain preparations for the exam.

Speaking of which, neither of the two knew just how the rumour of him being scrutinised got out, but that's what happened. The students themselves were now aware that the one preparing them also needed to go through the same thing. It was, to some extent, a growing sense of kinship. Some students liked him more because of that, of how he needed to go through the same thing they did here and then. Hardly everyone reached such thought, but those who did, had some increased sympathies for the young teacher. It was also a test of his teaching methods. If he himself passed, it would mean his methods too worked. Umbridge didn't wait long to contact the Ministry and arrange everything. Apparently, the High Inquisitor had a lot of spare time. However, some things just didn't bode well.

"This Friday?" McGonagall asked, hardly hiding her surprise amidst another staff meeting. These were becoming too much of a hurdle for her liking.

"Indeed, Minerva," the Inquisitor smiled. "Better resolve this matter as quickly as possible. Before the problem properly takes roots."

Her gaze turned towards Danny, who so far had been leaning against the wall with crossed hands.

"I see no problem. What exactly do you plan, Dolores?" He asked.

"Both theoretical and practical parts."

"He doesn't have a wand," Flitwick argued, "I don't think it is possible to..."

"I am aware, Filius," Dolores grumbled. "That's why we will keep it simple."

"That was my idea!" Danny raised his hand proudly, making Dolores's expression even sourer.

"Fenton will be tested by one of our best aurors. If he doesn't lose in a duel, we will consider that part acceptable."

"Are you sure this will be..."

"I don't see any other option," shrugged the young man. "Thank you for your assistance, Dolores. This wouldn't be possible without you."

Her face was slowly becoming red from seething anger. She didn't say anything as she stormed out.

"Am I the only one seeing patterns for each of our talks?" Danny asked.

-Linebreak-

During the next days, people didn't see Fenton do anything to prepare for the exam on Friday. Some were naturally concerned. Some were sceptic and some were frustrated with his irresponsibility. In truth Danny did practice and studied theory for quite some time. To brush up his memory. After all, it would do him good even afterwards. However, he did so in a very secluded place — the Forbidden Forest. There he could be sure that nobody interrupted him. And nobody saw him perform the best tricks. In all honesty, he would prefer to use his other form during the exam, but that would entail too many questions. And legal processes.

At this thought, Danny huffed, as between his fingers jumped a tiny green spark. He flicked his hand, and a burst of green light was launched forward with a loud wheezing noise. It flew a distance of twenty feet and hit the first tree in its way, blowing it up to embers and splinters with yet another thunderous sound. The young man winced, turning intangible in the face of the projectiles.

"When did it get so strong?" He asked himself quietly, picking up a piece of scorched wood lying at his legs.

It was true that he hadn't fought anyone for quite some time, hence his obliviousness to the level of his own power. Curious, Danny continued, concentrating the energy more carefully and then swiping his palm horizontally. A crescent of green light flew forward and hit another tree, this time only cutting it like no lumberjack ever could. As it fell, Danny examined his hand. Yes, he was just a bit rusty, he could work on that. After all, he wasn't letting the fate of the first tree to befall on the unlucky auror. And to be honest, the second trunk wasn't doing much better.

His exercise was cut short when he heard a distant sound of many hard objects hitting the ground. It was almost as if there was a herd of some ungulates. And from the increasing loudness, Danny knew that whoever was making those sounds was coming closer. He prepared himself for what was going to happen. Soon, it turned out that the noise was in fact made by a herd of centaurs. All armed with bows and looking very angry.

"Oh, wonderful," Danny muttered, slowly raising his hands. "Look, guys, I don't want any troubles."

"You have a lot of nerve coming here," one of them said and stepped forward, "A creature with doomed future."

The young man pouted. "Hey, it is not me who is doomed. It's the rest of world that is screwed. Didn't the prophecy change over the years?"

"You appear to be aware of it," the centaur huffed.

"And so do you. Doesn't surprise me, you guys are all seers. In case the stars did not tell you this, Clockwork and I are in cahoots. You know him, right?"

"We do not accept his authority, hybrid."

"He is the Time Master, pal," Danny sighed. "You don't get to choose. Are we done?"

"Leave immediately. We won't stand for your presence."

"But you tolerate some pretty indecent creatures."

"You are the filthiest of all, a human who lingers even after his death."

Danny clicked his tongue, "You are awfully foul-mouthed in front of a walking doomsday clock."

"Leave. At. Once," the main centaur warned, and Danny could hear the strings of bows being pulled.

The young man's eyes turned neon green.

"I will. When I am done. We can still resolve our differences peacefully. Am I disrupting your sleep or something? It is quite late. If you would..."

Danny heard a string being released, instantly he raised his hand and caught an arrow flying into his temple.

"I get it, in your society of pricks I am ostracised. Fine, I'll find another place to practice."

"If you show up in our forest..."

"You will what?" The glow in Danny's eyes was not ceasing. "Tickle me with these things?" He snapped the arrow and tossed the pieces away. "Don't make threats you can't fulfil, pal. I'm leaving because my boss will scold me if I harmed anyone in this wonderful national reserve."

"Who are you talking about?"

Danny sighed, and after the next blink, the glow was gone. "The stars are quite picky about the knowledge they give you, aren't they? Dumbledore is the boss. I am a teacher. I thought they are allowed to come here."

"But not to destroy everything around it, impudent child!"

"Finally!" Danny exclaimed. "Wasn't so hard to give me an explanation, was it?"

His snark was not appreciated by the centaurs, but there was admittedly little they could do. Danny was usually very considerate of half-breeds, being one himself. He respected them, he pitied werewolves. However, it didn't excuse the arrogant behaviour of the half-horses in front of him. It largely explained why the wizards were hesitant to raise their status. The former were bigots, sure, but the tiniest bits of sympathy were often squished beneath their hooves.

"I guess I will just go and find some other place," Danny grumbled. "Admittedly, I am taking out some frustrations here."

"We are not interested in your reasons. Get lost."

Danny gave him a small glare, before turning around to leave. He was half-tempted to give them a scare out of spite, and a little devilish Danny on his shoulder was whispering to kick the bastard, but he decided to let it slide. He was, after all, a person that chose to avoid conflict. Granted, he failed most of the times. He and his mouth that never shut up. And yet, he regretted absolutely nothing, aye.

A bit sore about the encounter, Danny returned to the castle grounds, muttering some unsavoury words under his breath. The hours were late, so he didn't meet any students on his way. However, the ones unbothered by the need to rest were ghosts. Fat Friar emerged from around the corner, having triggered Danny's ghost sense.

"Oh, Daniel! Fancy meeting you here... why the long face?"

"Hello, Friar," Danny waved. "Just had a run-in with centaurs. The pricks chased me away."

"I understand that their attitudes are not the most approachable..."

"I know you will try to give it a positive spin. Somehow. But don't bother, I've made up my mind."

"Very well... if you don't mind me asking, what were you doing there?"

"Training. I can't just fire blasts in the hall."

"Yes, that would be unwise," Friar muttered thoughtfully.

"Do you know any place for me to practice?"

"Not sure that I... wait. I think I know of a place!"

"You do?" Danny brightened up.

"Indeed. Follow me... you can fly while like this, right? As a human."

"I am floating right now," Danny smirked, demonstratively tapping on the ground without making a sound. "Lead the way, just don't be too quick. I can't fly fast while like this."

Friar gave a small laugh and nodded. The ghost and the half-human made their way through the walls and the ceilings of the castle, careful not to get spotted. They stopped in an empty corridor. Danny dropped invisibility and started looking around curiously.

"Are you suggesting that I train here?" Danny rubbed his temple.

"Heavens, no. But. Hogwarts is a place of many secrets. Here we can find another one of those. I remember hiding some things here. Back when I was alive."

Danny raised an eyebrow. At his stare, the Friar began looking around. And if he was still alive, he would have blushed.

"I... chose to hide food there. If I brought it to the dorm, they would have laughed at me."

Danny chuckled and shook his head. "Hey, we all have our passions. So, what's with the secret and why haven't I heard anything about it?"

"Not every professor knows about it. And for me to tell about it, you have to ask first. And I, admittedly, can't tell this to everyone, Dumbledore asked us not to. But I know who you are, Daniel. You are a hero!"

"I... wouldn't be so extreme..."

"It's not extreme. I really admire you, boy. For your age you have faced so many challenges and saved us all from certain doom. I think I owe you at least this bit of information for all you did."

Danny couldn't resist a smile. "Thank you, Friar. But you don't owe me anything."

"About the Room of Requirements. It always appears at the time of your need in this very corridor. For instance, I told you that I stored my lunch there. Imagine that you need a place to store your things. Then, with that thought, pace three times, back and forward, right there."

Danny felt a bit dumb for following the silly instructions. But. What did he have to lose? The young professor walked from one spot to another three times, just as he was told, and then something stopped him. There, in the wall, appeared a door that definitely hadn't been there before. Wide-eyed, Danny turned to Friar.

"I could just phase inside."

"No, child. You could not. This wall appears hollow if you just do this. But, if you go through the door, the effect will be quite different. Come, open it."

Danny approached it and put his hand on the handle. Swinging the door open, he remained at his spot, gobsmacked at what he saw. The insides of the room, right from the outset, were enormous. The ceiling was nowhere to be seen, and the other end of the room could not be found either. But that was largely due to the huge mountains of junk. There were tons of them. Wardrobes, scrolls, globes. All possible pieces of furniture could be found if you looked carefully. It truly was a storage place. Danny entered the room, guided by his curious mind. Friar followed close second, reminding the young man to close the door.

"This is incredible!" Danny said breathlessly. "Still not as littered as my Dad's garage, but still."

"It truly is, right? You can exit and repeat the process, imagining a place fit for you to train."

"That's great..." Danny suddenly perked up.

"What is it?" The ghost asked.

"I think I'm sensing something. You said that no ghost could get here?"

"Yes, the door doesn't appear near the ghosts. I figured it would work for you and turned out to be right."

"Then why am I picking up a signature?" The question Danny asked was mostly for himself.

He set off in seemingly random direction. Now it was Friar who had to keep up with his companion. This trip lasted for ten whole minutes of going in a straight line through the pillars of junk. Soon, Friar caught up with Danny, who was holding a strange object in his right hand. A discoloured, old tiara.

"Daniel, what is this about?" Friar asked worriedly.

"That's what I want to find out," Danny muttered, his free palm igniting with green light. "This thing is obviously ancient. And it is the source of some strange ecto-energy. Something is written here, a bit hard to make out, but I think I get it: 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'."

Friar gasped: "This is Ravenclaw's motto. And it is also a diadem...it can't be!"

"What is it?" Asked Danny.

"It is the diadem of Ravenclaw! It belonged to her when she was alive, and was lost...and yet it is here!" Friar rambled. "Oh, this is so exciting!"

"Friar," Danny interrupted seriously. "You are forgetting that this thing reeks. And I don't like this one bit."

"But... what do you reckon is it?"

The young professor's face turned grim. "The substance of the dead stuck to an inanimate object. Corrupted substance, might I add. I am actually holding a Horcrux. Ancients, what a find," he muttered.

"I am not sure I follow."

"And you shouldn't. Luckily," Danny smirked. "I have just the way of handling these. Un momento."

His hand turned intangible. He wrapped it around the diadem, actually being able to grab SOMETHING, his face contorting in displeasure. It was like he was touching pieces of wet food in a kitchen sink. Not without effort, but Danny ripped out an object of sorts. His palm was covered in black, thick smoke. Danny balled a fist, engulfed in green light of his own and squashed it. Like a tomato it popped, dissolving in the air.

"Well, I sure did something."

At this moment, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Man-Who-Died-From-the-Boy-Who-Lived screamed in agony.

"Daniel... What did you do?"

"A piece of soul bound to an inanimate object is basically possessing it. I have an experience of exorcising ghosts by enforcing my own presence. Besides, I had a run-in with Herpo the Foul at some point. I don't know to whom this Horcrux belonged."

"Herpo?" Friar scratched his temple, "He has been dead for millennia."

"Now he is," Danny smirked.

"I think we should tell Dumbledore," Friar said carefully, seeing the young man's expression sour. "Daniel. I don't know what it was, but it IS a diadem of Ravenclaw. A find of a century!"

"You are right," Danny sighed. "We'll bring it to him. Can we omit the Horcrux part?"

"I am not sure... this is very concerning. I am sure Dumbledore will know what to do."

"He leaves an impression of someone who knows everything, eh?" Danny muttered bitterly. "On one hand, I'm happy to dump this stuff on him. I don't have the time to solve another case of a wannabe-leech. On the other," he sighed and looked at the ghost. "Dumbledore doesn't trust me, Friar. How can I trust him?"

"What brought this up?" The spectre asked, sounding surprised.

"I overheard him talking. The guy thinks I'm a death eater, no doubt."

"Don't be like this, Daniel. It doesn't mean he is going to ignore a matter such as this."

"But won't that make me appear strange? I just waltzed in and slaughtered a piece of someone's corrupted soul. Again, Friar. He is already suspecting me. This," he raised the diadem, "Won't help my reputation."

"I guess you are correct," Friar mumbled.

"I'll bring it eventually. Just not now. After I am fired, maybe," Danny said with a smirk. "This obviously means that we don't disclose what happened here to anyone yet. Can you promise me that?"

"Daniel. You know that I don't approve of all these secrets between you all. I could try speaking to Dumbledore on your behalf..."

"I appreciate it, Friar, but no. He will ask too many questions to you then. Besides, it will make me look and feel bad if I send you instead. Let's leave it at that."

"If you say so," Friar mumbled. "You can't leave it lying around here, though."

"Surely. I'll hide it in another place. Maybe I could sell it."

"DANIEL!"

"What? I need money!" Danny then smiled. "I'm just kidding, pal. I get it, the thing is important."

As he was going to the exit, twirling the diadem around his finger, Danny got an idea to whom this Horcrux belonged.

-Linebreak-

Located in Wiltshire, England, the manor of a rich wizarding family was tucked away from any muggle. It was the residence of Malfoy house. And it also was the place that the Dark Lord had taken residence in for the time being. For his plans to come into fruition, he needed discretion, so he couldn't remain there for long. But, by the force of chance, it was in that manor where the agonising scream was heard in the middle of the night. Lucius Malfoy, the patriarch of the house, usually reserved and aristocratic, was unkempt and shaky, because he had no clue what caused such reaction from their lord. And he prayed that it wasn't because of him. He went to check on him, as did every Death Eater in the building. However, Voldemort did not grant anyone audience until an hour later. And it just so happened that the owner of the house was to face the Dark Lord's reaction.

In the dining room he sat, his skin pale as a paper-sheet, his head not having a single hair or a nose for that matter. His scarlet eyes bore into the host, who was still dressed in his nightwear. Voldemort himself, it appeared, did not sleep at all, seeing him dressed in his black robes as always. Lucius saw the man's pet — a gigantic snake, slither past his legs.

"Lucius," Voldemort greeted.

"My Lord," Lucius bowed. "What..."

"That's what I wish to know," the Dark Lord said with cold collectedness. "Something precious was stolen from me today, Lucius."

Malfoy looked at him in shock. "Nobody entered or exited this place, we would have known, I specifically put the people on guard..."

"No, you are not to blame here, Lucius. There is nothing you could have done to stop this. However," the sinister undertones in Voldemort's voice became more noticeable as he rose from his seat at the head of the table. "I wish to know something. I hope you will indulge me."

"I will try to answer."

"Has anyone entered the Lestrange vault?"

"No, nobody entered there for a while."

"It will not hurt to check," the statement sounded like an order. "Coincidences like this are impossible."

"Milord, if I may ask..."

"No you may not," Voldemort hissed. "I understand what you wish to know as is. Check there, Lucius."

"It shall be done," Lucius bowed again.

"If you would still humour me," continued Voldemort, "You told me about that new teacher in Hogwarts."

"That insolent boy? Yes, Draco described him perfectly. And he is also a muggleborn of all things...My Lord, are you suggesting that he is behind it?"

"I have the reasons to suspect him. One of my prised possessions was right in front of Dumbledore's eyes for years, and not even one month in, it gets destroyed. The only thing that changed is the professor that teaches Defence. And if he remained in his post despite what fools at the Ministry say, there is something that old man is plotting. We must understand what it is before we execute our plan. You are free to leave now."