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Chapter Text

After it was revealed that Michael Weston had the inside scoop, the 3rd year Hufflepuff was enjoying the newfound popularity that came with it. Harry noticed him more often than not, he had a large following wherever he went. Since Danny still preferred to stay out of the limelight, the majority of Hogwarts begged Michael for any information they could get on Danny. Michael had convinced his cousin to send him copies of their town’s local newspaper so all of Hogwarts could stay caught up with Danny Phantom’s latest exploits. The Amity Park Angle was already more popular than The Quibbler, but was now even rivaling The Daily Prophet.

“Danny Phantom Fights Ember McLain After Crashing Dumpty Humpty Concert? Mikey, isn’t that the ghost you wanted to come here?” Harry overheard one of Michael’s friends say to him.

“Yeah, Phantom said he talked to her after they fought and she agreed to put on a concert here!”

That caught everyone’s attention in Dumbledore’s Army, Harry’s lesson was spiraling out of control.

“An evil ghost is coming to Hogwarts?”

“She’s not evil, she just occasionally tries to take over the world using mind control.”

Harry’s lesson was officially derailed.

“Were you going to tell us you were bringing an evil entity to Hogwarts?” Hermione yelled at Danny when they met up with him later that night.

“No, because I’m not,” Danny said smugly. “Ember isn’t evil, and she promised not to mind control anyone, or else.”

“And what’s this about mind control?”

“She can use her guitar to compel people to do whatever she says.”

Hermione threw her hands up in the air and gave an exasperated sigh.

“How did you get her to agree to this?” Ron asked.

“The concert, she gets to perform for an audience that will cheer for her and I won’t try to stop her. No mind control, I threatened her with soup time.” Danny wiggled his soup thermos. “Naughty ghosts get put in time out.”

“Are you serious?” Hermione deadpanned.

“Yeah, it’s a very good deterrent.” Danny clipped the thermos to his back. “If you’re really worried about being mind controlled, wear these.” Danny tossed them some green ear pieces. “They filter out spectral noise so you can enjoy the concert without having to worry. Now, can you help me set up for her concert? She’s coming tonight.”

“Tonight? How did you get Dumbledore to agree to that?” Ron asked.

“Oh please, Ronald,” Hermione said. “Dumbledore would be easy, what’s hard is Umbridge now that she’s made herself High Inquisitor.”

“Dumbledore agreed right away. He said something about cultural exchanges. As for Umbridge.” Danny smiled, his fangs on full display. “Let’s just say she is going to be very busy tonight.”

With the help of magic, it didn’t take long to set up for the concert. They just had to assemble the stage on the Quidditch pitch. Hermione charmed some lights to hover, Ron set up a few pyrotechnics using some prototypes from Fred and George, and Harry hung the decorations. The theme was very punk, it reminded him of when the Weird Sisters came to play at the Yule Ball. He wasn’t going to lie, the giant cardboard cutout of who he assumed was Ember was kind of creepy, but Danny said she insisted on having it as her backdrop. Either way, Hermione charmed it to be fireproof.
The sun was now setting and Danny dashed off to the portal under the Black Lake to bring their guest.

“I’m excited to meet another muggle ghost,” Hermione said. “I’ve been writing down my observations of Danny in the hopes of having enough research to write a paper on muggle ghosts and their characteristics. It would be nice to have more data points.”

Ron cleared his throat. “Please don’t call our friend a data point, especially not to his face.”

Harry briefly wondered if Hermione had a list of observations on him. It was pretty likely. He’d much rather have her write a book on him than someone like Rita Skeeter.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” A voice from behind them said. A fiery blue-haired girl with a guitar who looked just like the giant cardboard cutout. “A castle, neat.”

“Hello, I’m Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Prefect, welcome to our school!” Hermione said with a dazzling smile.

Ember shot Danny a look. “I thought you hated school, Babypop. Why do you stay here? It's not very punk rock.”

“The Fruitloop can’t get here,” Danny said. “Believe me, I checked.”

“Fair enough.” Ember shrugged. “Now who’s ready to rock!” She strummed out a loud chord.

“Doesn’t she know no one’s here yet?” Ron whispered to the trio.

“Just wait.”

“It was, it was September,” Ember sang.

Harry spotted Michael Weston sprinting out of Hogwarts castle.

“She’s here! She’s here!” he yelled. “You actually did it!”

Danny laughed. “Of course I did. You better hold up your end of the deal.”

“After this, I’ll do anything, just ask.” Michael said. “Ember I love you!”

“Winds blow, the dead leaves fall.” A ghost band appeared behind Ember adding in bass and drums.

Students slowly poured out of the great door of Hogwarts and made their way to the concert stage. Some seemed apprehensive, Harry could understand, the flaming hair was weird, but by far not the strangest thing this school had seen, but the news that Ember was one of Danny’s enemies made most students uneasy.

“To you, I did surrender.”

A few students started subtling dancing to the music, bobbing their heads along to the beat. Harry saw Luna and Ginny standing together, Luna dancing with large flowing movements.

“Two weeks, you didn’t call.”

A few students closer to Michael Weston were encouraged by his consistent cheering and joined in in jumping around.

“Your life, goes on without me.” Ember’s hair started to flare up more. “How are you so calm with one of your foes here?” Harry asked Danny. “Aren’t you worried she’ll try something?”

Danny shot Harry a bewildered look. “Forget what’s in the papers or what Weston says, most of the ghost ‘enemies’ they talk about aren’t that bad.” He used air quotes.

“My life, a losing game.”

“Sure, Ember and I have had a few spats in the past, but she hasn’t tried to take over the world in a while,” Danny said. “She gets bored sometimes and likes to perform. We have an understanding.”

“But you should, you should not doubt me!”

“Really?” Hermione questioned. “So it was a misunderstanding that she mind controlled all the news stations into broadcasting her and only her?”

“Okay, she’ll take it too far occasionally and she’s obsess-“ Danny cut himself off and took a breath. “She loves to have an audience, but you have to understand, the living realm is a lot more interesting than the Ghost Zone.”

“You will remember my name!”

The trio had more questions but Danny waved them off.

“You can’t miss this, this is the best part!”

“Oh, Ember, you will remember,” Ember sang.

“Ember, one thing remains,” Danny sang along.

“Oh, Ember, so warm and tender!”

Michael Weston scream sang along.

Ember pointed out to the crowd. “You will remember my name!”

The crowd cheered.

“Say my name!” Ember egged the crowd on.

“Ember! Ember! Ember!” The crowd chanted while Ember played a guitar riff.

Ember’s hair flame grew larger.

“Should we be concerned?” Hermione asked.

Danny shrugged. “The chanting does make her more powerful, but she promised. We should be fine.”

“Your heart, your heart has rendered.”

The crowd quieted down to hear the next verse.

“Your walls, now bear the shame.”

Harry spotted Dumbledore and Hagrid in the crowd. Dumbledore was politely clapping while Hagrid was hooting and hollering.

“Like dead trees, in cold December.”

There were a few other professors that could be seen in the crowd. Professor Hooch could be seen bobbing her head, and Professor Flitwick was in the middle of a dance circle.

“Nothing but ashes remain!”

“Oh, Ember!” The crowd sang. “You will remember!”

Someone picked up Professor Flitwick and started crowd surfing him.

“Ember, one thing remains.”

Harry saw Professor Trelawney nervously singing along. Harry hoped she wouldn’t have any visions during the concert, that would be a bummer.

“Ember, so warm and tender! You will remember by name!” Ember belted. With the last note, the pyrotechnics Ron set up went off.

Blue fire lit up the front of the stage while fireworks burst behind the giant cardboard Ember.

The rest of the band dropped out leaving only Ember, her guitar and vocals. “You will remember my name!”

The crowd cheered and chanted her name.

“That’s my name, you better remember it!”

The crowd went wild as she started her next song in the set. There were a few more people crowd surfing. Harry saw Draco get swept away in the push and pull of the crowd.

“My father will hear about this!” He yelled and Harry lost his face in the sea of people.

The crowd chanted louder and louder and her hair flame grew bigger and brighter.

Danny flew further away, unnoticed by most of the crowd, except the trio.

Harry followed him. “Is everything okay?”

Danny nodded. “All is well. That’s my favorite song of hers, so I wanted to stay for that, but I have a few things to take care of tonight.”

“Are you certain we shouldn’t be worried about the ghost who can mind control people through music who is putting on a concert?” Hermione asked. “She’s not going to double cross you or anything?”

“Nah, most of the time she just likes to perform for people. It’s like enrichment or something,” Danny said. “Enjoy the rest of the concert!” He zipped off to the Forbidden Forest.

“Wonder where he’s off to,” Ron said.

Elsewhere

Deep in a forest Delores Umbridge was wandless and lost. She had been walking aimlessly for hours ever since waking up in the middle of the forest. The last thing she remembered was eating some sweets that filthy squib caretaker had left her. Surely someone would notice she’s been missing this whole time?

Chapter Text

“I am the Box Ghost! Beware!”

That was the first time that week they saw what they would soon learn to be the most annoying ghost they had ever met.

The Box Ghost had apparently been summoned to Professor McGonagall’s classroom because of the sheer amount of boxes she had for one of her lessons, turning bats into boxes. Not the most fun of lessons given that Lavender Brown had burst into tears due to being terrified of bats. Professor McGonagall offered the sobbing girl a tissue out of a box that Harry desperately hoped hadn’t previously been a living animal.

When the Box Ghost appeared and tried to intimidate the 5th years, he was met with blank stares and a condescending eyebrow from Professor McGonagall.

“You should be trembling in terror from my powers over rectangular shaped objects!”

Someone coughed.

“Beware!”

“And why should we beware, Mr?” Professor McGonagall asked, unperturbed by the disruption.

“I am the Box Ghost! Beware!” The Box Ghost lifted his hands and the bats-turned-boxes began to flutter menacingly around the room.

The boxes chased the students around the room. Any spells just seemed to bounce right off of them. Only Professor McGonagall stood still in the center of the classroom, barely managing to hold off and wayward boxes sent floating her way, but even her spells had no effect on the Box Ghost.

“It’s like Sir Nicholas said,” Hermione began. “Magic is weaker around ghosts like Danny because ectoplasm and magic don’t mix.”

“So you’re saying this is one of Danny’s friends?” Ron pointed to the box ghost. “I’m honestly insulted to be lumped in the same category.”

“No, Ronald. I’m saying we need to do this the muggle way!” Hermione said. “If our spells won’t work, we have to take matters into our own hands, literally.”

Ron shrugged. “Fine by me.” He decked a nearby box, punching a hole into it.

“Noooo!” The Box Ghost wailed. “You’ve ruined the cardboard perfection of the most efficient packaging container!”

“This guy has an unhealthy obsession with boxes,” Ron said.

Harry nodded. “He sure does.”

“Beware!” The Box Ghost sent a large box to Ron. Before he had time to react, the box closed itself over him and sealed itself up with packing tape.

“No! Ron!” Harry yelled.

“Mr. Weasley!” Professor McGonagal exclaimed. “You will release my student at once!”

“Beware!” The Box Ghost cackled.

“I have run out of patience. I will not tolerate this anymore.” Professor McGonagall waved her wand and all the boxes in the room were transfigured into bats.

It was hard to hear what happened next over all of Lavender Brown’s shrieking, but after she fainted Harry could catch the tail-end of Professor McGonagall’s lecture and saw the Box Ghost floating, ashamed.

“Now release my student this instant.”

The box opened and Ron tumbled out, unharmed, if a little red with embarrassment.

"Beware!” The Box Ghost zipped down the hall.

“Now that the interruption is over, let’s continue with our lesson.”

Danny Phantom floated in through the window “Was that the Box Ghost I just saw?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll handle it.”

The class could hear the Box Ghost from down the hall. “Your cylindrical container cannot hold me, for it is inferior to the cardboard rectangular-”

Danny walked back into the class holding a soup thermos, which he placed on Professor McGonagal’s desk. “You can let him out when you think he’s learned his lesson.”

“So, muggles use these things called thermoses to trap ghosts?” Ron asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny scolded her brother. “Most muggles don’t believe in the type of ghost that Danny and his friends are. Clearly they’re used for more minor spirits. Like muggle doxies.”

“They are for food!” Hermione emphasized.

The four of them were eating lunch in the Great Hall during one of their breaks. It was a busy day, lots of conversations floated by, including the Thermos Argument. The Thermos Argument had been

going on for several days now ever since Ginny asked if all muggles had ghostbusting equipment. She had been genuinely concerned for the welfare of muggle ghosts. Ever since then, it had been an ongoing battle between the Weasleys and Hermione over what the purpose of a thermos was. Harry was sure Fred and George actually believed Hermione, but were egging her on for their own amusement.

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Ron said. “Why would muggles use a thermos for food, when you told me they use tubberware.”

“It’s Tupperware, Ron, tup, with a ‘p’.” Hermione was continuously getting more and more exasperated.

“Again, that doesn’t make any sense,” Ginny said. “You can put things in a tub, not whatever a tup is.”

Harry had long since given up on trying to explain muggle concepts to the Weasleys. He spent far too long trying to tell Mr. Weasley that rubber ducks don’t have to have a use, they’re allowed to just exist and be cute and fun.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t long until Hogwarts encountered the Box Ghost again. Why Professor McGonagall let him out of the thermos so soon, Harry will never know.

“I am the Box Ghost! Beware my rectangular wrath!” The Box Ghost yelled. “That inferior cylindrical container couldn’t hold me for long!”

“Again?” Harry groaned. He was far too used to being attacked while at Hogwarts.

There weren’t enough screams of terror to satisfy the Box Ghost, or any screams at all since most of Hogwarts had learned how pathetic the Box Ghost was to Amity Parkers by now.

“Beware!” The Box Ghost yelled and cardboard boxes flew into the Great Hall. Harry had no clue where the boxes came from, as far as he was aware, cardboard boxes didn’t fit Hogwarts’ aesthetic.

Most students were sheltering behind protego. After some trial and error, Dumbledore’s Army had discovered that the shield charm resisted ghosts. If only for a little bit, but if you had enough people, say, an entire Great Hall, casting overlapping charms, it worked very well. That was, until the megabox formed.

Frustrated at the thwarting of his attacks, the Box Ghost coalesced all the boxes into one giant, vaguely robot looking box that he was piloting. “Beware! Try to stop me now!”

The megabox stomped through the shield charms. The students beneath scattered. One small Gryffindor boy attempted to light the megabox on fire with incendio. It didn’t work.

“Beware!”

The megabox kept storming around the room, knocking some candles around and scattering dishes, but doing no real damage.

A Ravenclaw girl, inspired by the Gryffindor, lit the megabox on fire. This time using a lighter.

“Nooo!” The Box Ghost yelled as his megabox crumbled to ash. “You will beware!”

“Nah, I think it’s soup time for you.” With a flash, the Box Ghost was sucked into the thermos and Danny took off as quickly as he appeared.

“See, Hermione,” Ginny said. “If it wasn’t for catching ghosts, how would Danny be able to catch ghosts with it?”

When it first started, it was hard to notice. Harry would feel something hit the back of his head, he would turn around, and there would be no one there, only what looked like a styrofoam packing peanut. Then he would hear a quiet “beware!” whispered in his ear. He tried not to call attention to it. People already thought he was crazy and a liar, no need to give them more ammunition. It started out when Harry was alone. When he was walking in the corridors after hours, or even a few times in detention with Umbridge when she decided talking to her portrait of Fudge was more important than babysitting him. His pockets were filled with the styrofoam pieces when he walked out.

Then it progressed to walking in the halls and at Quidditch practices. Fred and George would give him weird looks when he stopped chasing the snitch midair to swat at something that wasn’t there.

“You alright there, Harry?” Fred asked.

“We didn’t hit you too hard with the bludger, eh?” George followed.

“Thought you would dodge, serious!” Fred said.

“I’m fine, just thought I felt something,” Harry said.

The twins exchanged looks.

Then it started happening during class.Harry refrained from whipping his head around trying to catch a glimpse in vain, and he was already accustomed to the whispering that he didn’t jolt whenever he heard “beware!” Instead, he opted to scratch the back of his head. Very mindful, very subtle, not paranoid Potter at all.

It wasn’t until later that Harry noticed others were facing his same dilemma. He overheard some third years talking about it in the Gryffindor common room.

“I keep hearing things, do you think I should go to Madame Pomfrey?”

“You’re not supposed to have a stress related breakdown until our 5th year.”

Then he heard others in class yelp out of nowhere. Malfoy had screeched and fell out of his seat.

It wasn’t until Hermione addressed the situation that he put it all together.

“We’re being haunted,” Hermione announced to their section of the breakfast table.

“Uh, duh,” Ron said, gesturing to all the ghosts. “Do you think they’re here for show?”

“Other than them.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Who here has felt like they’ve been hit with things or have been hearing voices saying beware? Raise your hands.”

Most of the Gryffindors within hearing range and a few in other houses listening in raised their hands.

“Thank you. You’re not going crazy, I promise,” Hermione said.

“Not yet,” A Ravenclaw said, downing the rest of her energy drink. Harry had no idea how she managed to get a Redbull at Hogwarts. Her poor owl.

“How, we know it’s not any of the Hogwarts ghosts, because they know better, and it’s not Peeves.”

Seamus interrupted Hermione. “How do we know it’s not Peeves.”

“If it was him, do you really think he would keep quiet about it?” Ron said.

“It must be some other ghost that is haunting us.”

“Can we do something about it?” A first year pleaded. “I don’t know what to do with all of these!” He said holding out a hand of packing peanuts. “My cat keeps trying to eat them!”

“Oh, you’re being haunted?” Danny floated in, poking his head through the table next to Harry. Luckily for Danny, not many saw him.

“Yeah, where were you a week ago when this started?” Harry asked.

“I’m busy. I can’t hang out at magic school all the time. Danny shrugged. “Don’t worry about the haunting, I’ll take care of it.” Then he went invisible.

Harry had no more issues. Not with packing peanuts anymore at least.

Harry walked over to the large group huddled in the middle of the seventh floor corridor.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “We should be heading in by now. Don’t want anyone to catch on to the DA.”

“It’s the wrong room,” Colin Creevy explained. “It keeps opening into a room full of junk. Not our practice room.”

“Someone else must be using it, we should go before they see us here,” Harry said. “We’ll meet here again tomorrow night instead.”

“But I have Advanced Astronomy tomorrow night,” Marietta Edgecomb complained.

“Then have Cho catch you up,” he snapped.

The next night, the room still looked like an abandoned storage container. Harry decided to see who was hanging out.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Harry poked his head in with the rest of the DA curiously watching behind him.

“Beware!”

Ron groaned. “Not this guy again.”

“I see you have found my cardboard fortress.” The Box Ghost materialized. “So many boxes!”

Harry sighed. “Can you leave? We need this room.”

“Face my cube-shaped wrath!”

Harry didn’t think that was going to work.

Not just boxes were thrown at the gathered students, the contents were thrown at them too.

A few bird cages were tossed. Broken jewelry and chipped teacups flew out. Even a baseball bat and baseballs. Which was weird because Michael Weston was the only American student Harry was aware of.

Hermione caught an old-looking copy of Hogwarts, A History. “It’s a first edition!” she gasped.

Fred and George grabbed the baseball bat and alternated hitting boxes with it.

A tiara flew by Harry, narrowly avoiding scratching his face. He winced, clutching his scar. There were some very bad vibes coming off that tiara.

“Practice using expelliarmus, it knocks them off their trajectory,” Harry told the DA. They had to get some practice somehow.

“Someone’s coming!” A first year Slytherin yelled. “Scatter!”

“It’s Dumbledore! We’re saved!” A third year Ravenclaw said.

With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore halted all projectiles.

“Uh, beware?” The Box Ghost said.

“I suggest you leave, unless you want me to call on our mutual friend Mr. Phantom,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I’m certain he will be thrilled to learn you are causing trouble again.

“Beware!” The Box Ghost sped off.

“I also suggest that students make their way back to their respective common rooms. It will be after hours soon, and we don’t want Professor Umbridge to stumble upon anything she isn’t supposed to.”

“Goodnight Headmaster!” The crowd dispersed, clearing out fairly quickly. Ron and Hermione gave Harry a look, quietly asking if he was joining them.

He shook his head no. Not yet.

“Dumbledore?” Harry paused. Dumbledore hadn’t spent much time with him this year, and although Harry knew the life of a headmaster must be very busy, he couldn’t help but feel like he had done something wrong.

“Yes, my boy?” Dumbledore asked.

“When the Box Ghost was throwing random items in boxes at me, there was a tiara, and it made my scar hurt just like Voldemort does,” Harry said. He hoped it didn’t make him sound too crazy.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Did it, perhaps, feel the same as Tom Riddle’s Diary?”

“Yes.” Harry had no clue where Dumbledore was going with this, but at least he wasn’t being outright dismissed.

“I have a theory.”

Harry waited for Dumbledore to elaborate on said theory. He didn’t.

“I will look into it.”

The Box Ghost had been making frequent trips to Hogwarts. It seemed he was there every other day now.

Harry had talked to Danny about it who had apologized profusely.

“I don’t know how he keeps getting over here, I only know the portal’s location because I have a map that tells me when it changes location.”

He also had told the trio that he wouldn’t be able to come to Hogwarts for a while, something about being busy. Harry wondered what commitments a ghost would have, but he didn’t want to come across as rude. However, Hermione had no such qualms.

“Oh I’m seeing Nunya,” Danny said nonchalantly.

“What’s a Nunya?” Ron asked.

“Nunya business!” Danny cackled and flew off.

“I don’t get it.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ronald,” Hermione said.

The Box Ghost burst into Charms class. “Beware!”

Flitwick readied his wand. Harry would not want to be on the other side of his wand. Flitwick was very good at dueling. Flitwick wasted no time in rattling off spells that the Box Ghost either dodged, or let pass through him.

The door slammed open.

It was Michael Weston holding a thermos.

“Don’t worry! I got this!” Michael yelled as he threw the thermos.

The thermos passed harmlessly through the Box Ghost and smashed a window.

“That was not me,” the Box Ghost said. “I don’t do windows. They can’t fit in boxes very well. Unless you have a really large box.”

Then he left.

Flitwick cleared his throat. “Mr. Weston, I don’t believe that’s how you use it.”

Later that day, the Box Ghost appeared in the Great Hall.

Michael wasted no time in using the thermos. This time turning it on and pointing it at the ghost, not throwing it. Except his aim was off and the Bloody Baron was sucked into the thermos instead.

The Box Ghost snuck off while Michael was panicking trying to figure out how to release the Baron. When Harry left for bed Michael was apologizing to the Baron who glowered menacingly at the 3rd year Hufflepuff.

The next day the Box Ghost appeared in Potions. Harry wasn’t actually present for that one. Ginny told him the story later.

The Box Ghost levitated the cauldrons, all full of half completed potions and went on a rant about the inferiority of sphere shaped containers.

“These are terrible boxes, where are the corners?” the Box Ghost yelled.

“Corners are impractical for potions,” Snape sneered. “Just like your ridiculous cardboard.”

“If looks could kill,” Ginny said, “the Box Ghost would be dead twice over.”

That was when Michael got there.

He rushed in yelling “I’ve got this handled!” Then he tripped. The thermos flew out of his hands and hit Snape square on the head.

Snape issued a detention and took 50 points from Hufflepuff, but Michael won the respect of most students.

It was Care of Magical Creatures when the Box Ghost popped up next.

“These pens are large boxes and are therefore under my control,” the Box Ghost said and the doors all swung open, letting loose a bunch of nifflers. Could be worse, at least it wasn’t the blast-ended skrewts from last year.

Michael was there in a few minutes. It was honestly impressive how fast he got there.

“Are you sure you should be doing this?” Hermione asked.

“Come on, show some faith, I got this!” Michael aimed the thermos, steadied himself on his feet, and pressed the button.

The Box Ghost was sucked into the thermos.

Everyone looked surprised, Michael included.

“You try it! It’s a lot harder than it looks,” Michael grumbled.

Michael Weston finally caught the Box Ghost. After parading the thermos around, he had been unsure of what to do with it. He didn’t want to bother Danny Phantom, the ghost boy had given him the thermos and told him to take care of Hogwarts while he was busy the next week. So he went to the next best option. Fred and George Weasley. Not only have they worked with Phantom before, they were fellow redheads.

Michael placed the thermos in front of the three of them. “What should we do with him?” he asked. “I feel bad about leaving him in there, it’s been a few days already.”

Fred, or maybe George, thought for a moment. “Other than boxes, he likes causing chaos.”

“Just like us,” George, or maybe Fred added.

“What if we direct that chaos in a more deserving place?” Fred said.

“Like Umbridge.” George finished the thought.

“How are we going to do that?” Michael asked.

“He just needs,” George began.

“The proper motivation.” Fred finished. “Release him.”

Michael was unsure of how this would turn out, but he hit the release button anyways.

“Beware! I am the Box Ghost!” The Box Ghost yelled.

“We’re big fans of your work,” Fred said.

“We love boxes. All sorts of things can fit in them,” followed George.

“Oh.” The Box Ghost was caught off guard. “Do you want to hear about all the things I can fit in boxes?”

“Maybe later.”

“We thought you should know Professor Umbridge hates boxes.”

Michael was perplexed. This was their plan? There was no way this would work.

“Really?” The Box Ghost was offended.

“Yeah, she said their boxy shape looks stupid.”

Maybe this would work.

“I need to show her the might of boxes!” The Box Ghost flew out of the room, only to fly back in and ask where her classroom was.

Michael hoped he didn’t regret this.

The Box Ghost wasted no time in ransacking Umbridge’s classroom.

“You will learn to respect the resourcefulness of boxes, cardboard and other materials!” the Box Ghost yelled.

All desks and classroom materials were put into boxes. Flying boxes chased around Draco Malfoy and the Inquisitorial Squad. They were also being pelted with packing peanuts. Umbridge herself was wrapped in bubble wrap and was levitated above the classroom looking downward at the mess.

“You will let me go this instant you dim-witted-” Umbridge was cut off by packing tape taped across her mouth.

“I might need a bigger piece,” the Box Ghost pondered.

The best part was when McGonagal walked by, looked at the one-sided fight, and kept walking.

The Box Ghost eventually caught the entire Inquisitorial Squad and put them in boxes, though McGonagal did come by later and made him release them, since they were just students. He bubble wrapped the entire classroom. Every inch was covered in “the bubble wrap of doom!” He filled the entire classroom with packing peanuts, then sealed it shut with packing tape, with Umbridge still inside of course. The room was essentially one big box.

Chapter Text

Danny popped into the Gryffindor common room, as he normally did on many afternoons, looking very frazzled.

“What’s wrong with you?” Ron asked.

“Do you know a dog sitter?” Danny’s voice was weak. “I need a break.”

“You have a dog?” Ginny asked. “Can I pet it?” She liked dogs, especially Fang, but there weren’t that many for her to pet since Hogwarts only had cats, owls, or toads as acceptable pets for students. She had begged her mom for a dog when she was little, but they already had Errol and Scabbers. When Scabbers turned out to be a man, she asked again, but then Pigwidgeon arrived. It was more practical, her mom argued. Ginny was disappointed, but at least she got to name the new owl.

Danny shrugged and whistled.

Crashing sounds and a few screams gradually drew near. Bursting through the portrait door was a small dog. Luckily, the Fat Lady was unharmed as the dog had decided to phase through at the last second.

“Ginny, this is Cujo. Cujo, this is Ginny. Be good.” Danny introduced them to each other.

Cujo barked.

Cujo was one of the cutest dogs Ginny had ever seen. How could Danny need a break from this sweet puppy?

“Cujo? Really?” Hermione asked.

Danny held his hands up in defense. “He was already named when I found him.”

“You’re such a sweet boy!” Ginny scratched behind his ears. “Such a good boy!”

“Can you watch him? Just for a few days? Please?”

“Of course! Hagrid can keep an eye on him while I’m in class,” Ginny said. “I’m sure Fang won’t mind the company.”

“I owe you,” Danny said. “I mean it. I owe you a favor, and I don’t give those out lightly.”

Maybe Ginny should have been worried about what that meant, but she was too preoccupied with scratching behind Cujo’s ears.

“Alright, I’ll be back in three days. Cujo, stay here. Don’t follow me, I mean it.” Danny’s eyes glowed brighter than normal. “Be good.” Then he zipped out the window attending to whatever ghost business he normally does.

“We’re going to have a great time, aren’t we, Cujo?”

And that was true, until it was time to go to sleep. Ginny and Cujo spent the rest of the day playing fetch, going on walks, and getting belly rubs. Cujo kept up with Ginny on her broom and flew alongside her as she practiced her tricks. All in all, a good day. That night however.

“Cujo, it’s time for bed. We’re not playing fetch,” Ginny groaned and covered her head with her pillow.

Cujo whined and tugged on Ginny’s blanket.

“Go to sleep.” Ginny pulled her blanket back.

Cujo whined and pulled her blanket again.

Her curtains opened, it was Adrianne, one of her roommates. “Ginny, if you don’t keep that dog quiet, I’ll do it for you.”

“Please, Cujo, go to sleep.”

Cujo whined.

The next day, Ginny was tired. She had dropped Cujo off with Hagrid that morning. He was a great dog, but Ginny was falling asleep in her classes. She understood why Danny needed a few days off.

“You look unwell,” Luna said to her in charms class.

“I’m dog sitting for Phantom,” Ginny said. “His dog kept me up all night.”

“Makes sense, I suppose,” Luna said. “Given that ghosts don’t need to sleep.”

Ginny groaned, putting her head down on the table. “I forgot about that.” No wonder Cujo begged to play all night.

Luna hummed. “I wonder what Phantom does at night. He must have some trick to keep restless spirits at peace.” Luna pulled out one of her personal books and started writing in it. “This calls for some research.

Ginny spent the rest of the day trying not to doze off. When classes ended, she met with Hagrid.

“How was he?” Ginny asked.

“Just a happy pup,” Hagrid said. “Bit unnerving watching him go through walls while playing fetch, but he didn’t knock anything over. I still need to meet this Phantom fella you keep telling me about.”

“He’s great when you’re paying attention to him.” Ginny scratched behind Cujo’s ears. “But he’s so needy the moment you can’t.”

Fang whined in jealousy so Ginny pet him with her other hand.

“He needs ta be trained ta be happy on his own. See Fang ‘ere?” Hagrid gestured to Fang. “He’s happy when I’m ‘ere. He misses me when I’m gone, but he’s content to lay in the sun and chew on a bone.”

“Do you think there’s such a thing as a ghost bone?” Ginny asked.

Hagrid chuckled. “Cujo has more energy than Fang. He seems like the type that would want a job ta do.”

“What type of job?”

“The Blast-ended skrewts got out earlier so I had Cujo round them up back in their pen,” Hagrid said. “He can’t get hurt from them, and he got to chase them around.”

Ginny considered asking Danny if she could bring Cujo to the Burrow. Cujo would have a blast de-gnoming the garden.

“He just needs something ta do. I bet he would enjoy a long walk in the Forbidden Forest. Maybe he would enjoy meeting Gwampy,” Hagrid mused before realizing he still had company. “I shouldn’ta said that. Forget I said that. There’s nothing in the Forbidden Forest you should concern yourself with.

Ginny had no desire to go into the Forbidden Forest. She would stick to the Quidditch Pitch. She may be desperate for a good night of sleep, but not that desperate.

She met up with Luna next in the courtyard. They normally studied together in the library, but the weather was nice and it didn’t seem wise to bring Cujo into the library.

Luna cut right to the chase. “I did some research and I believe it’s the nargles that are keeping Cujo from resting at night,” she said. “Ghost nargles are very elusive.”

Despite not fully believing in nargles, Ginny went with it. She would try anything. “Great, how do we get rid of them?”

“I brought supplies.” Luna held out a box containing radishes, a few chimes, and mostly other vegetables. “Their energies will ward off the nargles and create a welcoming space for Cujo to relax.”

Ginny nodded.

“At the very least it will give Cujo something for entertainment,” Luna said. “You should ask Phantom if he has to deal with nargles. I don’t think any of our Hogwarts ghosts are infested with them.”

Luna and Ginny played with Cujo for a while. Luna was right, Cujo enjoyed the chimes. She had charmed them so that only Cujo could hear them. According to Luna, before the charm was put into place, their ringing was calming, so it should help Cujo settle down at night.

Eventually Luna had to leave, she needed to restock her collection of anti-nargle plants. She was attempting to make a potion that when added to drinks would flush the nargles out of the consumer. It was rather tedious to coax the nargles out of people. Luna didn’t mind, of course, but there was only so much she could do at a time.

Ginny thanked her for keeping her nargle-free.

Ginny’s next stop was the Quidditch Pitch. They had practice, and it would be good to wear out Cujo before bed. That was what Hagrid was telling her to do.

Angelina had them training like crazy ever since Umbridge booted Fred, George, and Harry off the team. She said they had a long way to go until they could fly together as well as the previous team had. According to Angelina, being properly bonded as teammates was the first step to winning. If they didn’t know each other inside and out, they wouldn’t be able to trust each other while flying.

“Weasley!” Angelina yelled.

Ron turned around. “Huh?”

“What’s with the dog?” Angelina asked.

“Oh, Ginny,” Ron said.

“I’m dog sitting,” Ginny said. “He’s Phantom’s. His name is Cujo.”

Katie Bell whistled. “Cute dog! I didn’t think ghosts could have them.”

“Cujo is a ghost dog,” Ginny said.

Cujo ran over to Katie who immediately started petting him.

“This isn’t social hour,” Angelina said. “We have training to do if we want a chance at winning the Quidditch Cup.”

They started off practice with a few quaffle drills. Ginny spent most of the time trying to keep Cujo from knocking the flyers off of their brooms in his attempt to catch the ball. She should’ve dropped him off at Hagrid’s again.

“Weasley!” Angelina yelled.

“Yes?” Ron said.

“I’m sorry for being distracted,” Ginny said. “I’m trying to keep him from injuring anyone on accident.”

“Oh, not me again,” Ron grumbled.

“Not that.” Angelina shook her head. “I have an idea.”

The idea was a race. Who could catch the snitch the fastest, Ginny or Cujo? It was actually a lot of fun and good practice for flying with obstacles. The hardest part was getting the snitch back from Cujo. Overall, they had a great time.

Sweaty and tired, Ginny and Cujo made their way back to the dorms. Ginny had already set up the strange vegetables and chimes Luna had given her, and Cujo was happily chewing on a radish. She was ready for a restful night.

Cujo started whining.

Ginny groaned and buried her head under her pillow. Her professors would kill her if she fell asleep in class. Not to mention her dormmates.

Hagrid had said to give Cujo something to do to keep him entertained. She couldn’t keep him entertained 24 hours of the day. She didn’t know of anyone who would be willing to watch him. At least no one she trusted. She couldn’t exactly send Cujo off on his own.

Or could she?

“Cujo, buddy, if I ask you to do something will you understand what I mean?” Ginny asked.

Cujo barked and wagged his tail. That was as good a confirmation she was going to get.

“There’s a mean pink lady who I want you to see,” Ginny said. “If I tell you where she sleeps, you can play with her.”

Cujo wagged his tail.

The next morning, Ginny was well rested, Cujo was happy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was canceled. Umbridge had to be taken away at breakfast. She was convinced something was loose in her room. She heard noises all night.

“I know one of you rotten children snuck something in my room,” she screamed as Madame Pomfrey took her away. “I will find it, and I will find you!”

“Now now, dear. Let’s rest up. Sleep loss can make you paranoid,” Madame Pomfrey tried to calm her.

Ginny gave Cujo a biscuit. “Good boy.”

A few days later, Phantom popped by, looking much more refreshed.

“How was he?” Danny asked.

Ginny gave Cujo a few pets before she said goodbye. “He was perfect.”

"I don't believe you," Danny said, "but I'll take it."

Chapter Text

There was a new ghost taking up residence in the library. Any other year and this would have been huge news, but after a few months of getting used to Danny Phantom and friends, it was sort of old news.

“Michael, have you seen the new ghost in the library?” Alyssa, a fellow Ravenclaw in her fourth year asked. “Is he from Amity Park too?”

“I caught a glimpse, but I can’t say I recognize him. We do have a lot of ghosts.” Michael shrugged. “Has he done anything suspicious yet? Most of our ghosts are a bit crazy.”

Alyssa shook her head. “All he’s been doing is writing.” She paused. “With a typewriter. Madam Pince shushed him for typing too loud.”

“Do wizards use typewriters?” Michael asked, as a muggleborn he wasn’t quite sure where the line was drawn with technology for wizards.

“Not typically,” Alyssa, a halfblood, replied. “That’s why I was wondering if he was one of yours.”

Alyssa and Michael made their way to the library, not an uncommon place for Ravenclaws to be, but instead of studying for their classes, they studied the ghost in front of them.

Alyssa and Michael weren’t actually sure if he was a muggle ghost. In contrast to most of the other muggle ghosts they had met, he didn’t do much. He was just angrily muttering and writing on his typewriter. The other muggle ghosts tended to cause havoc in their school. The Box Ghost, who obviously attacked them with boxes. Cujo, who Michael had briefly met, had tore apart Professor Umbridge’s classroom and chewed up a Quidditch broom that hadn’t been discovered until after he left. Ember, who had left the Quidditch pitch trashed after her concert. Last, but not least, Phantom, who was the source of at least 12% of the chaos at this school. A high percentage for a school that had a lot of shenanigans. This ghost, for all intents and purposes, was minding his business.

“Are you sure he’s not a wizarding ghost?” Michael whispered to Alyssa.

Alyssa shrugged. “I don’t think so, he’s using a typewriter. Wizarding ghosts wouldn’t be able to touch mortal objects like that.”

“The Bloody Baron has swords,” Michael said.

“The Bloody Baron died with his swords.” Alyssa shook her head. “I doubt he died while holding a typewriter.”

“But there’s a chance,” Michael said, unaware his voice was creeping louder. “You never know, he could’ve died from a typewriter landing on him, causing them to be linked forever.”

Someone cleared their throat.

Alyssa and Michael slowly turned to find both Madam Pince and the typewriter ghost scowling at them.

“Out of my library!” Madam Pince whisper-yelled.

There was no use in arguing with her, so Michael and Alyssa retreated to the Ravenclaw common room.

“Are you sure he’s not an Amity Park ghost?” Alyssa asked.

Michael shook his head. “He could be, we have a lot of ghosts, but it’s highly unlikely I missed him.”

“How sure are you?” Alyssa followed up.

Michael pulled out a scrapbook with all known Amity Park ghost sightings. “This sure.”

“When did you have the time to make this?” Alyssa asked, incredulously.

Michael shrugged. “It’s not like we do anything important in History of Magic anyways. I might as well make the most of my time.” He slapped the thick scrapbook. “This baby has clippings from all ghost-related stories in the Amity Park Angle from the past three years, since BP,”

Alyssa looked confused.

“Before Phantom. Very few ghost sightings before him,” Michael elaborated. “Amity Park ghost watchers screenshots and synopses, as well as confirmed sightings found on three different Amity Park ghost forums.”

Alyssa flipped open the scrapbook. In addition to all of that, and believe her, it was a lot, there were breakdowns of frequency of sightings, statistics for where you were most likely to run into a ghost, the favorite places of each of the ghosts, and descriptions of each of their skill sets.

Alyssa whistled. “Phantom’s power set is stacked. Who could beat him?”

“He wasn’t always this powerful,” Michael said. “When he first started appearing he got his butt kicked a lot. And some of the bigger things seem to take a lot of energy out of him like the ghostly wail.”
Michael pointed at a picture. “He always disappears after using it, which is why it looks like it’s a last resort.”

“Still,” Alyssa emphasized, “ecto-rays, weather manipulation, wait.” She paused. “Was he responsible for the ice?”

Michael nodded.” Most likely. To be fair, the weather manipulation was only for a few days, so I think that had to do with the weather ghost he was fighting at the time.”

“Still, stacked.” Alyssa sighed. “I’m not seeing anything about the library ghost in here.”

“What if we asked him,” Michael proposed. “Worst he can do is say no.”

“Or throw a temper tantrum and get our library ban extended indefinitely,” Alyssa shot back.

“Are you saying you don’t want to find out?”

“No, but we’re going to need a plan. Madam Pince won’t let us back in the library until tomorrow, and we have no idea how long the library ghost is going to stay.”

That night, they stood in the Ravenclaw common room. They both wore dark cloaks, their least clacky boots, and Michael even drew dark lines under his eyes like Alyssa had seen on his posters of American Football players. Alyssa had packed several potions she had brewed secretly during class. You never know when you need a Wideye Potion or antidotes on hand.

“Ready?” Alyssa asked.

“Ready.” Michael nodded.

They walked out of the Ravenclaw common room and immediately into seventh year, Kelly, who was just returning from the library.

Kelly blinked at them, rubbed her eyes, then walked past them without saying a word.

“A minor setback, let’s go.”

They crept down the stairs to the second floor hall, all they had to do was walk a short stretch and then they’d be in the library. Michael took the lead crouching low to the floor, walking a few short paces, spinning around rapidly, then motioning to Alyssa that it was clear. Alyssa just walked next to him, careful to keep her steps silent, but not expending nearly as much effort. Michael did a front roll to the door to the library, then tugged on the doors.

“It’s locked,” he whispered.

“We have magic,” Alyssa whispered back. “Alohomora.”

The doors opened with a loud creak.

Alyssa and Michael hurried inside. From there it wasn’t hard to find the ghost from earlier. He was still at the same desk, still writing away at his typewriter.

Alyssa cleared her throat. Trying to politely get his attention. It didn’t work.

Michael slammed his hand on the desk, startling both Alyssa and the typewriter ghost. “Hey Mr. Ghost dude, can we ask you some questions?”

The ghost fixed his glasses. “I am not your dude, I am Ghost Writer.” Ghost Writer paused for effect, but his desired reaction from the children never came. He sighed dejectedly. “I suppose I shall grant you a few questions.”

“Do you know Phantom?” Alyssa asked.

Ghost Writer scowled. “You have me here and you ask me about Phantom? I am the master of literature.”

“Sooo, that’s a yes,” Michael said.

Ghost Writer huffed. “Of course I know Phantom. He destroyed my masterpiece so I tried to frame him for ruining Christmas, but the ‘power of Christmas spirit’ saved the day instead.”

“That was you?” Michael yelled. "You stole my presents?"

Before they knew it, they had detention for a week and were speaking in rhyming couplets for the next few days.

Actually, only Michael had detention for a week. Alyssa heard Filch approaching and had just enough time to drink the invisibility potion she brought. Although he was peeved about being caught, Michael didn't rat her out.