Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You want me to do what?"

"Lead our student ghost hunting group," Star repeated. "When all the adults in town were taken hostage a few weeks back, we would have been lost without you. You really took charge, and you were super competent."

"Now, wait just a second, fighting ghosts is really dangerous," Danny insisted. "We should leave it to the adults."

"And what if something happens to them again?" Ashley chimed in. "Even if something doesn't, the only real ghost hunters in town are your parents, who kinda suck at it—no offense."

"I'm not any better than they are! Plus, I'm not a leader."

"We all know that's not true," Star argued with a snort. "See the aforementioned incident on the ghost ship." She looked at him pointedly and fluttered her eyelashes.

"Please, Danny?" Ashley all but begged, giving him a strategic pout. "We need someone who knows about ghost hunting, otherwise we're just a bunch of idealistic kids with no prospects."

This was a trap. He knew it was a trap. He didn't know who else was on this quote-unquote "student ghost hunting team" but he was sure they'd sent the cutest girls who were willing to ask him to take charge because they knew he couldn't say no to a cute girl, let alone two. 

"Please, Danny!" they both said in unison.

But dammit, he couldn't say no to a cute girl, let alone two.

"Fine," he heaved a sigh. "Where do you guys meet?"

"Yay!" the girls cheered, then Star gave him the information, telling him to meet them all at 4pm in the school gym. 

They waved goodbye over their shoulders as the bell rang to signal the end of break, and he waved back, wondering what the hell he'd gotten himself into.

"So," Tucker cornered him at lunch (metaphorically, actually they were just sitting at the same table and the techno-geek decided to give him the thrid-degree), "I heard you were talking to Star and Ashley this morning," he said, his tone accusatory. "Come on, dude! Save some girls for the rest of us, you traitor!"

"It's not like they were asking me out!" Danny rolled his eyes and lifted his sandwich to his mouth. "They wanted my to help with some student ghost hunting group. I'm meeting them in the gym after school." He took a bite of his sandwich.

Tucker stood abruptly, slamming his hands on the table. "Not without me you're not!" he demanded. "Sam, you in?"

The goth girl groaned in disgust. "And watch the two of you make fools of yourselves trying to impress girls way out of your league? Pass. I've got homework to do anyway. And so do you guys, for the record."

"Homework shmomework!" Tucker rebuffed. "We're going ghost hunting. With girls!"

Sam rolled her eyes as conspicuously as she could, but the boys managed to ignore her anyway, high-fiving each other.

When Danny and Tucker got to the gym after school, it was to see a group of about eight teenagers crowded around Star and her brand new, shiny silver laptop.

Curious, Danny and Tucker went to see what they were looking at, only to find that the whole group was thoroughly enraptured with Star surfing the net for any information she could find on hazmat suits.

"They all have hoods, and like, face shields," Hannah, a girl Danny saw at the skate park from time-to-time, pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Star said obviously. "They're supposed to protect you from radiation and stuff."

"Uh, yeah, I got that, Star." Hannah rolled her eyes. "My point is that the Fentons hazmat suits don't cover their faces."

"Same with the one's we wore when we fought those ghost pirates," Dale, one of the football players, recalled.

"OMG, does that mean we were, like, totally exposed to airborne toxins?" Ashley gasped, her hands covering her mouth in panic.

"The Fenton jumpsuits aren't actually hazmat suits at all," Danny said.

Instantly, all eyes turned to them and dead silence overtook the room as they listened with rapt attention. It was actually pretty creepy. For a moment, he had to stop to swallow his discomfort before elaborating.

"Well... I mean, unless the ghost specifically has a power that releases gas or something, there isn't any danger of airborne toxins. Raw ectoplasm can carry dangerous bacteria, or diseases like ghost flu, though, so the jumpsuits are made of a special material that creates an impermeable barrier that stops the ectoplasm from coming into direct contact with the wearer's skin.

"The problem is, the material doesn't breathe well, so you can't safely wear it over your mouth and nose, especially when you're fighting, since you need to take in more oxygen when you exercise," Danny explained. "My parents experimented with various different types of face shields, but none of them were as effective as just raising your arms."

"Is ectoplasm not radioactive?" asked another guy Danny recognized from science class—Jack, he thought his name was. "I just kind of assumed, since it's got that whole 'radioactive glow' thing going on."

"Well... technically?" Danny shrugged. "Most of the ectoplasm you come across on the day to day around here is only about as radioactive as a microwave oven. Ectoplasm can become more radioactive when it's more concentrated, but the process of creating concentrated ectoplasm is super time consuming and power intensive, and there's really no point in having it anyway, so you probably won't ever have to worry about radiation from ectoplasm unless you're in the Ghost Zone."

Once again, his classmates all stared at him in silence.

They'd asked him to be their leader, so he'd kind of come in here prepared to actually use all the boring stuff his parents ranted on and on about, but now that he had, he was suddenly worried about coming across as even more of a freak than they already thought he was. 

He gulped and waited awkwardly for someone to say something.

"Oh we are so good," Ashley said, holding up a hand for a high-five which Star obliged without even looking at her.

"Damn, I knew you knew more than we did," Dale said, "But you like, know shit-know shit."

"Yeah, man, even I didn't know you knew that stuff," Tucker admitted.

"Hey, even if I only listen to about twenty percent of my parents insane ramblings, I still gotta end up learning something, right?"

"So how do you make concentrated ectoplasm, anyway?" Ashley asked.

Danny began to tell them all the story of when he was eleven and his parents enlisted him to help make concentrated ectoplasm to see if it would be a more effective energy source than purified ectoplasm and they'd ended up causing a small explosion in their lab resulting in a (thankfully contained) fire that didn't go out for three whole days and Danny spending a week in the hospital with radiation sickness, only to discover that—while it did produce more energy than regular purified ectoplasm—it consumed even more power than that just to make it concentrated, and the process was way too dangerous to be worth repeating when purified ectoplasm was already a viable and efficient source of clean energy.

The next hour or so was filled with Danny sharing stories of his parents' past experiments, what their various goals and (usually disastrous) results had been, and how they factored into today's Fenton technology, now that the pair of them had a much more reliable source of raw ectoplasm than they'd had in the past. There was very little about actual ghost hunting involved in the stories, but nevertheless the Casper Student Ghost Hunting Club hung on to every word.

Even Danny himself was surprised to discover how much information he'd actually retained from his parents insane ramblings. Sometimes when he'd thought he hadn't been paying attention, the information had imprinted itself in the back of his mind anyway. His mom always did say he had a mind like a steel trap but ever since the portal accident, he just hadn't been able to make use of it enough, so he'd kind of forgotten about that.

After a certain point, though, members of the group had to leave because of other obligations, and Ashley and Star begged Danny to come back and stay on as the leader of the club, to which he agreed. He'd been reluctant at first, but he'd gotten pretty into it. It was nice to have people actually listening to him and caring what he had to say for once.

Over the next couple of weeks, Danny taught them more about ghosts and about ectoplasm, as both a substance and a source of energy. He spent an entire day talking them through the process of treating different types of fabric to protect them from raw ectoplasm, and at the next meeting, Star bragged about carrying out the process on some of her regular clothes so that she'd be more protected on the day-to-day. 

That idea quickly caught on, and by the following week, everyone in the club had at least a Jacket that they'd ghost-proofed, and Danny tested their clothes to make sure they'd done it properly. Some were more effective than others, but they'd all done pretty well, and he had to admit he was proud.

"We'd better hurry, Danny," Tucker said. "We don't have much time before third period starts."

They were in the library to print a hand-out Danny had made for the ghost hunting club meeting after school today.

"I know, I know." Danny had set his backpack down on a table and was riffling through it in search of the paper. "It shouldn't take too long if I can just find it."

He spent five whole minutes looking before Tucker finally suggested, "Maybe you left it at home?"

"Maybe. I'll be right back." He went behind some shelves to transform and then flew home invisibly to search his room. Another five minutes passed with no luck, and he headed back to school.

"Nothing," he said, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. "Damn. Guess I'm just gonna have to draw up a new one and print copies during lunch."

"So this was a complete waste of time?" Tucker said, managing to sound only mildly annoyed.

"Guess so," agreed Danny with a sigh.

The warning bell rang and they headed out of the library for their next class.

"I just can't think of where it might have disappeared to," he said. "I know I made it, I finished it right before I finished my essay for English class. And then I definitely put it in my backpack. It's just gone."

"Sorry dude," Tucker said. "Good luck getting a new one done by lunch because the library is closed after school."

Danny groaned and they went their separate ways for third period.

"Hello everyone," Principal Ishiyama greeted her faculty. "Thank you all for coming to this staff meeting. As I'm sure you know, this school has been under steadily increasing pressure from both parents and students alike to provide an elective option to educate students about the ghost threat that has been ever present for the past few years.

"Now, the school board has approved funds and resources for a seventh period 'Ghosts 101' elective class. The problem is that we have yet to find a suitable teacher for it, given that our only options are a shady government agency and a pair of total whack-jobs."

There was a general muttering of agreement around the meeting table and Principal Ishiyama sighed.

"I had hoped that approving the student ghost hunting club would relieve some of the pressure, and give us some more time to search for more suitable candidates, but instead I've been up to my ears in emails and angry letters from parents who are pissed because the students ended up organizing an option for ghost education before the school was able to provide one. So that backfired."

"It was a good effort," Mr. Falluca consoled.

"Thank you." She smiled gratefully at him. "In any case, I arranged this meeting because I simply can't put it off any longer," she continued, getting back on track. "It is time to choose the lesser of two evils to teach this class, and I've decided to put it to a vote so that I'm not saddled with sole liability if something horrible happens."

Some of the teachers laughed, others winced sympathetically, but nodded.

"So, the question is, do we reach out to the Ghost Investigation Ward to send an operative to teach this class, or do we ask the Drs. Fenton?"

Here, Mr. Lancer spoke up. "I believe I may have found a third option," he said. "One that doesn't involve heavily-armed, mentally unstable adults." 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, which was then passed down the table until it found the hands of their esteemed principal.

"What's this?" she asked, looking it over carefully. "A detailed diagram of an ecto-gun? Where did you get this, Lyle?"

"It was stapled to the back of one Daniel Fenton's essay on Fahrenheit 451," Mr. Lancer replied. "Judging by the handwriting, I'm fairly certain that he made it himself."

"I did hear that student ghost hunter club enlisted him to be their club president," Mrs. Tetslaff recalled. "They mentioned something about a pirate ship, though, and I don't remember anything like that, so."

"Some of those kids are in my second period," said Ms. Briggs, the earth science teacher. "They tend to hang out and talk during break, and it seems like they've been learning a lot from him." 

"Can we even hire a fifteen-year-old to teach an elective class?" the principal asked, putting town the diagram. "Is that legal."

"I looked into it," Lancer said. "The education board's rules stipulate that there must be an adult in a classroom at all times to provide supervision. It did not specify that the adult had to be the teacher, or that teachers had to be over eighteen. 

"It does require that teachers have a teaching license, but it also lists exceptions, one of which is the student-teacher exception, in which a person pursuing a teaching license can be put in charge of a class, as long as there is a licensed teacher present to supervise."

"So, essentially, what you're saying is that Danny can teach the class as long as another teacher is in the classroom to supervise the students," Ms. Briggs reiterated. "That could work."

"We could arrange a rotating schedule so that no one teacher has to take on the extra work of supervising another class every day," Mr. Falluca suggested. "That would make it more fair, I think."

"This could work," Principal Ishiyama agreed. "Of course, it all depends on whether or not Danny is willing to take on that responsibility on top of his school work, but I will broach the possibility with him as soon as possible. If he refuses, I will arrange another staff meeting to vote from our other options. All in favor?"

There was a chorus of "Ay"s around the table. None of them were very fond of the idea of having either the Fenton parents or the G.I.W. at their school on a daily basis. Even if it was a lot to put on a high school sophomore, having Danny teach the class was still a much lesser evil than bringing in a pair of insane scientists or a bunch of government cuckoos to teach impressionable children.

When Danny got called into the principal's office first thing Monday morning, he figured he must be in serious trouble. He took a seat outside the office, furiously wracking his brain for what he could have done wrong recently. The fact that nothing came to mind just made the hastily approaching encounter all the more terrifying. Was he going to be blamed for something he wasn't even involved with or had he finally been linked to something he'd done so long ago he'd already forgotten about it?

"Mr. Fenton," Principal Ishiyama stood in the doorway to her office, smiling at him. "You may enter."

He swallowed hard, but stood and stepped into the office, taking a seat across the desk, opposite Principal Ishiyama.

"How are you Danny," she asked politely, making Danny start to sweat.

"Um... fine?" Danny asked. He couldn't stand the suspense. He needed her to just rip off the band-aid and yell at him already. "Am I in trouble?"

"What?" She tilted her head, confused for some reason. "Oh, no, not at all!"

"What?" Danny asked, easily the more confused of the two of them. "Well, if I'm not in trouble that why did you call me here?"

"I have something of a request for you." She opened one of her desk drawers, pulled out a sheet of paper, and slid it across the room. "Did you draw this?" she asked.

Danny picked it up, eyes wide. "Yeah, it was for the ghost hunting club. I looked everywhere for this! Where did you find it?"

"It seems you accidentally stapled it to the back of an English essay. Mr. Lancer gave it to me."

Danny groaned in exasperation. "Ugh, of course I did. Figures. I ended up having to draw up a new one from scratch. It was rushed so it didn't look nearly as good," he said. Then his face scrunched up, once again confused. "Is this all you called me here for?"

"Actually, no," she said. "I, as well as the rest of the school faculty, have observed the work and dedication you've put into the ghost hunting club, and the level of knowledge you apparently possess on the subject. And the school's been allocated funds for a seventh period 'Ghosts 101' elective class. I called you here to ask if you'd be willing to teach it."

"Me? Teach a class?" Danny asked, almost laughing. "You've seen my grades, right?"

"I don't know if you're aware of this," she said, smiling but very much not laughing, "but we have two weeks to open registration for this class to start after winter break, and our only other options for teachers are your parents or the Guys in White."

"Oh shit."

"Language, please," she chided. "We checked the bylaws and there's nothing stopping a 15 year old from teaching. The only catch is you would have to have an adult with a teaching license in the classroom to supervise, but they wouldn't interfere in your lessons. You would also be paid of course. Fifteen thousand a semester."

Danny's mouth dropped open. Of course, he knew that it was well below what a typical member of the workforce should accept, but it was also more money than he could even really conceptualize at his age, let alone actually had.

"Would you at least do me the favor of thinking it over?" she asked.

Truth be told, Danny had already decided to accept when she'd told him who she would have to go to if he said no. If there was going to be ghost education at his school, it wouldn't be taught by people who think all ghosts are monsters. He couldn't let their bigoted theories poison the minds of his classmates. But, fifteen thousand dollars a semester definitely didn't hurt.

"No need," Danny said. "I'll do it."

"Really? That's fantastic!" Principal Ishiyama said. "I'll print up an employment contract for you, just sign it and get it back to me as soon as you can. A parent or guardian will have to co-sign because you're a minor. Oh! Speaking of, I'll have to print out the paperwork to allow you to legally work as a minor as well."

She started rapidly typing and clicking things on her computer and Danny waited in stunned silence. His parents would have to co-sign.... That could be a problem.

At length, she took a stack of papers off her printer and gave him a quick rundown of what was what.

"You'll also have to start preparing lesson plans," she told him. "If you're unsure of how to go about it, I'm sure any of your teachers would be willing to help you. There are also some excellent resources online if you know how to look. Do you have any questions for me?"

Danny took the pages, still warm from the printer, and fanned through them. It was overwhelming. Did he have questions? Probably a million of them. But he didn't know how to ask.

"I'll uh... look this stuff over after school and come to you later if I have questions," he said.

"Sounds good," she said. "Hold on, let me write you a permission slip so you don't get marked tardy for first period, and then you can head to class." 

She pulled a yellow notepad out of her desk and started scribbling without even looking at it, instead smiling at Danny.

"Thank you so much for agreeing to do this," she said. "You're really saving my hide. I didn't want to have to explain to the school board why our only choice was to allow crazy people with guns on campus for this."

"Yeah, I can imagine that wouldn't exactly be a fun conversation," he said.

"That, it would not." She tore off the page she was writing on and handed it to Danny. "I look forward to getting those forms back from you soon. Thanks again!"

"Uh, yeah, no problem." 

He picked up his backpack, then all the papers she'd given him, and then headed out the door. It was only halfway through first period and he'd somehow gotten a job. It didn't feel real.

Chapter Text

After going over the legal paperwork with a very insistent Sam and Jazz reading over his shoulder and Tucker on the other side of his room cracking jokes, Danny was confident that he understood what he was getting himself into. The next unpleasant step, however, was getting his parents to sign the paperwork.

"Can't you just sign it Jazz?" he asked her. "You're basically like my parent."

"I'm flattered, Danny," she replied, and he wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that she didn't seem to be saying that sarcastically. "Unfortunately, I'm still only seventeen and a minor myself, legally speaking. Even if I was eighteen, we'd need to petition the court for me to have the right to act en loco parentis on your behalf, because even if I basically raised you, I'm not your legal guardian."

"I thought you were a psychology geek," Tucker commented, raising an eyebrow at her. "Where's all this legal jargon coming from?"

Jazz shrugged. "I'm multi-talented."

"She's also right," Sam said. "You'll have to get either your mom or dad to co-sign for you."

Danny dropped his head on his desk with a groan.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that without getting interrogated about why the principal asked me to teach a ghost class instead of them?"

There was a beat of painful silence. The four of them all wore matching grimaces, knowing Danny was absolutely right. When it came to ghosts, as much as the Fenton parents wanted their kids to know about the subject, they considered themselves to be the ultimate experts.

"If you catch him when he's busy doing something else, your dad might sign it without even looking at it," Sam said thoughtfully after a moment.

Danny's head shot up, his eyes wide. "You're right! That could work!" He just had to find the right opportunity. 

Over the course of the next week and a half, Danny made a point of observing his dad, waiting for an opportunity when he was both busy and alone, since, if he was working with Danny's mom, she would insist on reading the paperwork herself. The former was easy, since his dad was usually working. The latter was... not.

Finally, though, Danny saw his chance. While his mother was preoccupied, he saw his dad slip away to the Ops Center alone. Assuming he was just running up to get something and bring it back down to the lab, Danny waited to catch him on his way back, when he was in a hurry.

And waited.

And waited.

After ten full minutes, Danny had to wonder what his dad was doing up there? Had he decided to eat the entire emergency ham in one sitting or something? Come to think of it, he'd been acting a little sketchy when he left the lab, like he was trying to be secretive, or he didn't want anyone to see. If he was trying to sneak away unseen he'd done a pretty lousy job, but still.

Tired of waiting, Danny decided to just go up to the Ops Center himself and see what was up. 

"I see, tell me more!"

When the elevator deposited him in the center of the Emergency Ops Center, Danny immediately saw why his father had been trying (though, admittedly, failing) to act secretive. 

He was talking. To a ghost.

Instinctively, Danny turned himself invisible before either of them caught sight of him. His father likely wouldn't react well to being caught in such a situation.

The Box Ghost was trapped in a cylindrical ghost containment unit, its ectoplasmic barrier casting a sickly green glow over his blue skin. And Jack Fenton—Jack "if they're screaming that's how we know it's working" Fenton—who saw ghosts as more of an energy source than an actual species, was sitting nearby with a notebook and an enthusiastic smile. Asking questions. And actually listening to the answers. 

"So you would say boxes are not just an obsession to you?" Jack asked. "You don't just put all your energy toward them, but also derive energy from them?"

"That is a good way of putting it," the Box Ghost confirmed with his usual attempting-to-be-threatening tone, even though this was clearly a friendly conversation. "I dedicate myself completely to boxes, and in turn, boxes give me the power to enact my will upon the human world." 

"Fascinating," Jack said, scribbling that down in his notebook. "To think that cardboard, of all things, would have that kind of power."

"Well, anything can, really," the Box Ghost corrected. "For me, it is cardboard, but other ghosts dedicate themselves, and in turn are granted power, from a wide variety of things. Lunch. Hunting. Music. If you are willing to pour your whole soul into something, it can give you IMMENSE POWER."

"Do some obsessions give ghosts more power than others, or is it more based on a ghosts dedication toward their obsession than the obsession itself?"

The Box Ghost frowned thoughtfully. "I never really thought about that!" he declared. "If a ghost gains power based on their dedication, then I would no doubt be the most powerful ghost in existence! Except for that pesky ghost boy always getting in my way!"

"Ghost boy?" Jack repeated. "You mean Danny Phantom? Can you elaborate on that?" 

At the sound of his own name, Danny silently floated closer to the conversation, curious what the Box Ghost had to say about him.

And wow, that was a first. He'd definitely never cared what the box ghost had to say before.

"Yeah, him," The Box Ghost threw up his arms in exasperation before crossing his arm. "He's always getting in the way. Fighting and capturing me, box-blocking me. It's as if he's made it his after-life's mission to prevent me from engaging with all things cardboard and square!"

"Which of course stops you from replenishing your energy," Jack surmised.

Oh, Danny thought. He'd never even realized... he'd always been too concerned with protecting humans to worry about how the ghosts had been affected, but.... No... come to think of it, there were plenty of times, with Boxy at least, that he'd just gone ahead and trapped the ghost right away, even when he wasn't actually endangering anyone.

Growing up, he'd always been fed a lot of anti-ghost rhetoric, about how they were all evil, manipulative monsters. Even after he'd become a ghost himself, and learned that that wasn't necessarily true, he still had a tendency to fight first, ask questions later. Or never. Usually never.

He grimaced, thankful his dad and the Box Ghost didn't know he was there.

"Yes." The Box Ghost narrowed his eyes at Jack. "You are a very good conversationalist!" he announced. "I was under the impression you were something of an oaf, but your ability to understand my complaints is throwing that perception into question!"

"Oh, I just tend to get over-excited when I'm hunting ghosts," Jack explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I know I can come across as a bit oafish at times, but I didn't get my PhD by failing to understand the subject matter. I got it for my thesis on ectoplasmic containers and the corresponding patent and prototype."

Wow... how had Danny never learned what his father had received his PhD for?

"Containers?" the ghost repeated, his interested piqued. "No wonder you and I get along so well!"

Jack laughed. "I'll admit, I was surprised too. But I'm glad I decided to give all Jazz's psychological mumbo jumbo a try. I never even thought to study ghost psychology before, but it's downright fascinating!" 

Danny sat and listened as their conversation continued, and as he did, he realized he had a lot to learn about ghosts, and a lot to un-learn, too. He didn't understand anything about ghosts. he didn't even understand his own ghost side. He wasn't qualified to teach other people about ghosts when he'd only scratched the surface himself.

To think, just a few months ago, he decided he was going to be the bridge between reality and the Ghost Zone. What a joke. He hadn't done anything since then to earn that title. He was still fighting first, asking questions never.

He sat there until his father finally saw the time and excused himself, saying he had to get back to the lab to help his wife. Before leaving, he tossed the Box Ghost an unsolved Rubik's Cube.

"It's not exactly a box," he said, "but hopefully it'll tide you over 'til I can get you something better. Right now, every box in the house is in use."

"This will do!" The Box Ghost declared, already fiddling with it.

"I'll see you again soon!" Jack said, and took the elevator down to the kitchen.

It was only after he was gone that Danny realized he'd missed his chance to have his dad sign the paperwork. But now he wasn't even sure he should get it signed. Why did he think he was fit to teach anyone about ghosts in the first place? Half-ghost or not, he was just another ghost hunter. He should ask Frostbite to teach the class or something. Then again, Principal Ishiyama would be even less willing to hire a ghost to teach the class than she was to hire his parents.

He dropped his invisibility. The Box Ghost dropped his Rubik's cube in alarm.

"You!" he shouted. "I knew you were there the whole time! Don't think my being trapped in this cylindrical container will protect you! Beware!"

"Give it a rest, Boxy," Danny said with a sigh. "I'm not gonna do anything. Except maybe apologize."

"Apologize?"

"I didn't plan on eavesdropping on your little chat with my dad," he said, "so I'm sorry about that. But... I'm also sorry for the way I've treated you. I was raised by ghost-hunters, so I thought I knew all about ghosts, but I was wrong. It turns out a lot of what I thought I knew was false or biased, and even though I'm half-ghost and I should know better, I still ended up doing a lot more harm to you and the other ghosts than I meant to."

"All this is coming from one overheard conversation?" The Box Ghost asked. "Ghosts are not typically so quick to change."

"Well, I am only half-ghost," Danny pointed out with a light laugh. "But actually, I've sort of known for a while, and I've been working on it. Listening to you and my dad just now made me realize I have even more to work on than I thought. If I want to bridge the gap between humans and ghosts, I need to make more of an effort to understand the ghost point of view. 

"I trapped you all those times to stop you from hurting people, but half the time, no one was even in danger, you were just having fun messing with boxes and I rushed in, fists flying, without a second thought. So I'm sorry," Danny told him. "I can let you out of here, if you want." He took a few steps toward the release switch, but the ghost stopped him.

"No, thanks, ghost boy!" The Box Ghost insisted. "I have yet to learn all I need to know about these humans so that I can launch my devastating counter-attack as revenge for being trapped! Also Jack told me he would bring fudge next time!"

Danny did his best to suppress his amusement. "Alright. Good luck with that," he said. "I gotta get going."

"When next we meet, I will have my corrugated cardboard vengeance upon your family!"

"Whatever you say, Boxy. Whatever you say."

"Danny, be real," Sam told him while they stopped at her locker to pick up some textbooks. "There's no way Principal Ishiyama would ever be willing to hire a ghost to teach, here—even if the class they're teaching is literally about ghosts. She'd sooner hire a government goon who brings a loaded gun to school every day."

"Yeah, but—"

"Shut up with the imposter-syndrome, okay," she cut Danny off. "Of course you're not qualified to teach about anything. You're fifteen. But you're still objectively the best option."

"Yeah, Danny," Tucker agreed. "You know as much as any human does, and you know you have more to learn. The Guys in White wouldn't even consider trying to see the ghosts side of things or meet their needs. Honestly, the fact that you're willing to learn from ghosts alone makes you the most qualified candidate with a pulse."

"Even if that pulse is weak as hell," Sam tacked on.

"I guess you guys are right," he admitted. He didn't like it, but they made some solid points. Even if he had absolutely no confidence in his ability to teach this class, he would still rather teach it himself than let his parents or the G.I.W. take it on.

"Then it's settled," Sam said. "You'll turn over your paperwork to Principal Ishiyama."

"Oh, yeah, I didn't actually get it signed."

"Danny!" his friends both chided in unison.

"I know, I know! I'll handle it!"

It was several more days before Danny was able to catch his dad preoccupied and alone again, this time, trying to secretively make his way up to the Ops Center again.

"Hey, Dad," Danny stood directly in his path, holding out the contract and legal documents he needed signed. "I need a parent to sign this stuff for school. Can you please sign it for me?"

"Uh... of course!" He took the pen, and just as planned, signed the paperwork without reading a single word.

"Thanks, Dad!"

"No problem, Dann-o!" he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me...."

He shuffled past Danny and up to the Emergency Ops Center without even trying to ramble on to his son about ghosts.

Danny really had timed that perfectly.

Principal Ishiyama was thrilled when he finally brought her the paperwork and immediately went live with registrations for a 7th period Ghosts 101 elective class for the spring semester, now that the class officially had a teacher. She thanked Danny about four more times before he was able to leave her office.

So... Danny was officially a teacher at Casper High. But now that the paperwork was done, his work was only just beginning.

Chapter Text

Maybe it was naivete, but Danny had always thought that teaching would be an easy job. You stood in front of the classroom and talked for an hour about a subject you knew backwards and forwards and then class was over. Now that he was a teacher himself, he was quickly learning that it was a lot more difficult than he'd initially thought, and he hadn't even had his first class yet.

He'd followed Principal Ishiyama's advice and looked online for how to formulate a lesson plan, but... something felt off. He wasn't sure what he was doing wrong because he was following the guidelines from the website exactly, but he had to be doing something wrong.

Grimacing at his notebook, Danny sighed. He was gonna have to get advice from his teachers, wasn't he? Or his fellow teachers, rather. Ugh, he'd really been hoping to avoid this.

After some careful deliberation over which teacher would be the least annoying to ask for help from, Danny went to Mr. Lancer after school. Yeah, Lancer had been kind of an ass to him in the past, but he'd also gone out of his way to help Danny pass his class last year when ghost fights were kicking his ass. If Danny asked him for help, he would help. He also wouldn't get all arrogant about it, or try to baby him, or bullshit him. He would tell it to him straight.

"Hey, Mr. Lancer, can I talk to you for a bit?" Danny asked.

"Of course, Mr. Fenton," Lancer said, straightening up a stack of essays his sixth period class had just turned in. "Is this about my class or yours?"

"Mine," Danny admitted, a little annoyed that Lancer had already figured out why Danny had come to talk to him. "I've been working on lesson plans, but they don't look right, and I can't figure out what I'm doing wrong."

"Do you have them with you? I could take a look."

Danny took his teaching notebook out of his backpack and handed it to Mr. Lancer, who opened it up and started skimming the pages with a pensive expression.

"So?" Danny asked, after a long stretch of silence.

"These are very detailed."

"Thank you?"

"No, that's your problem," Lancer clarified.

Danny frowned. "I don't understand."

"You have fifty-five minutes in a class period," Lancer said. "Allowing at least ten minutes for any questions your students might have, that's roughly forty-five minutes of actual lecture time. And if you want your students to have time to do an in-class project, like in this lesson about ecto-guns, your lecture time is further limited.

"When I was starting out as a teacher, I would time myself doing my lesson plans to make sure they fit within my allotted class period, but after almost thirty years of experience, I can tell right away that you'd never be able to fit all this information into a forty-five minute lecture." 

Danny took the notebook back and took another look at his lesson plans. Now that he was thinking about it, they were a lot longer and more cluttered than the examples he'd found on the internet.

"So... what do I do?" He asked, brows furrowed as he looked back up at Lancer. "Just dumb them down until I can fit the lesson into fourty-five minutes?"

"That's one option," his teacher replied. "You could also break these up into multiple lesson plans to form units. Rather than spending one day on ecto-guns, you could designate a week, and spend a day on how they function, a day on weapons safety, a day on how to use them, and so on. 

"You'll be teaching a one-semester class, so you won't have as much time as I do teaching a year-long class, but that's still roughly twenty weeks to get through all your material. You can slow down and take your time."

Lancer gave him a reassuring smile.

"Thanks Mr. Lancer," Danny said, already thinking about how he would break up his notes across multiple lessons. "I'll try that timing my lessons thing, too. Seems like it could help a lot."

"It certainly helped me," Lancer agreed. "Oh, one more piece of advice," he added. "Give yourself an extra week or two where you don't have lesson plans. In my experience, there will always be at least one unit that your class struggles with and you'll have to spend some extra time on it so they can properly absorb the material. You have the privilege of teaching a subject with no precedent for standardized testing, so you have a lot of freedom and flexibility that most teachers don't get. Make good use of it."

"I'll try," Danny agreed. "Although, on the other hand, Principal Ishiyama told me that also means I have to write all the tests myself."

Mr. Lancer chuckled. "Well, you can't win 'em all."

"Any other sage advice for me while I'm here?"

Lancer pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Remember that you have to grade every test and homework assignment you give. One piece of homework for a class of thirty kids is thirty pieces of homework for you." Danny's eyes widened in horror as he made the executive decision to never assign his students homework. "Oh, and once you have all your lessons planned, be sure to write up a syllabus. Both you and your students will benefit from being able to reference it." 

Danny flipped to a blank page in his teaching notebook and scribbled down notes on everything Mr. Lancer had told him.

"Thanks, Mr. Lancer," he said. "I feel a lot more confident about knowing what I have to do now."

"You're very welcome," Lancer said, smiling. "Feel free to come to me if you have any more questions. My decades of teaching experience are at your disposal."

That had gone remarkably well, thought Danny as he left the classroom, only to very nearly run into someone walking through the hallway because he hadn't expected anyone to still be at school this long after it ended.

"Woah, almost hit you, my bad duuuu—" Danny cut himself off with a gasp as he realized who he'd just narrowly avoided running into. His eyes widened in alarm at the sight of Phantom. 

He hadn't seen the guy since they went their separate ways after the time-glitching fiasco months ago. For being slapped into a body cloned from Danny's DNA, they sure didn't look identical anymore. Phantom had clearly been hitting the gym since they'd last seen each other because his muscles looked like they might tear right through his shirt. Apparently he was growing his hair out, too. The sad beginnings of a mullet probably would have looked anything but intimidating on anyone else, but Danny was certainly feeling intimidated now. Had he gotten taller, too?

"Watch where you're going," Phantom sneered.

Danny nodded, mentally reminding himself that Phantom wasn't really evil, he was just traumatized, and working on healing and he hadn't done anything evil since Danny gave him his freedom back under Vlad's supervision.

"Danny!" Principal Ishiyama greeted cheerfully. "How lucky meeting you here! I was just showing Mayor Masters and his son around the school." Danny realized for the first time that both she and Vlad were also standing in the hallway. "Danny is going to be teaching a brand new ghost-science elective next semester. I know he's young, but he's a lot more knowledgeable than you might think." She then added in a mutter, "And wouldn't you much rather have him teaching the class than his parents? Haha!"

Vlad laughed along with her, but Danny could tell how fake it was.

"Is Mr. Lancer still in there?" she asked Danny then. "I was hoping to introduce Tom here to some of the teachers before they all went home for the day."

"Yeah, he's in there," Danny said. He turned to Phantom and raised an eyebrow. "Tom?"

"Zip it," Phantom jeered, shoulder-checking Danny as Principal Ishiyama led him and Vlad of them into the classroom to meet Mr. Lancer.

"Tom?" Danny repeated to himself as he headed down the hallway. "Where did they even get—ohhh, like Phan-Tom. That's stupid. Well... not as stupid as Bill, at least."

Okay, look, Danny didn't mean to neglect his homework, but he had a lot of work to do writing up lesson plans, and it had kind of consumed his entire life for the moment. He knew he had an essay due in two days. He knew he was three days behind on math homework. He knew he had a test in history tomorrow that he should be studying for. He knew, okay?

But he had decided to work on his lesson plans instead.

At least, until he heard a knock on his window.

He turned and saw Phantom, in all his flame-haired ghostly glory, floating outside his window. He furrowed his brows in confusion, but nevertheless went to open the window and let the ghost in. Once inside, Phantom transformed back into his human form.

"This is a first," Danny noted. "What brings you here?"

"School," Phantom replied, his tone absolutely dripping with contempt. "I hate being a teenager again. I'm not a child, Danny. I'm... at least twenty-five. Fifty-six if you count from when Vlad was born."

"And eleven if you count from when you became your own being," Danny pointed out.

"Whatever!" Phantom scowled. "Why should I have to go to school? I haven't been to school since I was... well, since I was you!"

"So what you're saying is, you never actually finished high school."

"Well... no? But also yes, because I have all Vlad's memories from high school. And college too. You know, before he had to drop out due to ecto-acne." Phantom groaned and flopped back onto Danny's bed. "My existence is an enigma."

"Tell me about it," Danny scoffed. "But you know... you're not just the combination of me and Vlad, remember. You were pretty adamant about that. You're your own being. That means you have to have your own life experiences. And that includes school, no matter how much school sucks ass."

Phantom sighed. "I know," he grumbled. "It's just... I...." His voice got very quiet, like he almost hoped Danny wouldn't hear him. "It's been so long since I was human. I'm just not sure how to do this anymore."

Danny stared at his alternate self, laying on his bed with a pained expression. 

"Oh," he said. 

With all the combined memories of himself and Vlad, Phantom had as much life experience as the two of them put together—literally. But he'd also spent ten years as a full ghost in a future where human society was in shambles, and another year trapped in a thermos until he finally managed to break out and consume Clockwork. For Danny, it had only been a year, thanks to all the time-travel business, so it was easy to forget that for Phantom, it had been over a decade.

"Well... most of being human is just rolling with the punches," Danny said, trying his best to be helpful even though he was a clueless fifteen-year old who knew almost nothing about life on the whole. "You just gotta... you know... pick yourself up and dust yourself off and... keep on trucking." That last part he'd gotten from his Aunt Alicia. She said that all the time.

Phantom snorted and the laughed outright.

"Hey, come on, I'm trying to help you out here."

"Ha! I know," Phantom said, breathing heavily as his laughter subsided. "That's what makes it so funny."

"Okay, well, maybe I don't know all that much about being human because I'm half-ghost and I'm only fifteen anyway. But I do know about school," Danny said. "You probably won't have to worry too much about bullies because you got totally jacked in the last few months somehow. Which is crazy. You're probably not interested in high school girls at your... age... es? In which case, you've got one less thing to worry about."

"I'm bisexual, actually, but I'm not interested in high-schoolers in general, so I suppose your point stands."

Danny blinked at Phantom in surprise, and then curled up his shoulders with a grimace. "Soo... did you get that from Vlad, or am I about to discover some things about myself?"

Phantom shrugged, unhelpfully. "You were saying."

"Well, my general advice for making it through high school is keep your head down, and try to at least get passing grades so you don't have to repeat a year," Danny continued, trying hard not to think about the possible implications of his alternate self being bisexual. "You could probably get into a sport if you don't want to have to take P.E., and you could take my class for your elective. I'm sure you already know all the material, so it would be an easy A."

"Vlad already suggested that, but registrations for your class are already full up. I'm on the wait-list."

"What?! They only went online a week ago!" Danny all but shouted in his shock.

"Oh?" Phantom pushed himself up with a wicked smirk. "Sounds like the pressure's on, then. Maybe I should leave you alone with your lesson plans."

"Maybe," Danny said, staring wide-eyed at the floor. 

A week after registrations and there was already a wait-list for Danny's class? That couldn't be right? How could so many people want to take a class taught by him? They knew he was the teacher, right? They had to! Principal Ishiyama hadn't opened registrations until everything had been confirmed.

"Well... sounds like you're gonna be busy for a while." Phantom stood up, stretched, and switched back into his ghost form to fly home. "Good luck with that."

"Uh-huh," Danny muttered distractedly. "Thanks."

Phantom flew off out the window and Danny turned to look back at his teaching notebook, feeling more inadequate than ever.

Winter break went by too fast, as it always did, and all too soon, Danny's first day as a teacher arrived. 

The whole school day leading up to it, Danny was distracted in all his classes, mentally going over his lesson plan, muttering under his breath, and just over-all stressing about the whole thing and wondering why he'd agreed to it in the first place. Luckily, most of them weren't doing anything too important the first day back from winter break.

After school, Danny headed to his classroom. During the rest of the day, it was where Mr. Falluca taught algebra. Since it was a class everyone had to take, it was one of the bigger classrooms. Principal Ishiyama had told him that she had originally planned to put him in one of the smaller rooms, but made the switch due to high interest in the class so they could accommodate more students.

Mr. Falluca was still in the room, wiping off the chalkboard and preparing to go home for the day.

"Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Fenton," Mr. Falluca said. "I'm just cleaning up for you, then I'll be out of your hair. Mr. Lancer volunteered to supervise your first day, so he should be here soon. Some of your students are already here, though, and they seem pretty eager. I'm a little jealous. My students are usually struggling to stay awake!" He chuckled and put the eraser down.

Danny looked over at what he'd thought were some of Mr. Falluca's students lollygagging after school had ended. Some of the Student Ghost Hunting Club was there—they'd agreed to dissolve after winter break, in exchange for guaranteed registration in Danny's class. Some of the A-listers, whom he knew were particularly big fans of Danny Phantom, who had time for a seventh period now that football season was over. Of course those who also did other sports, including, thankfully, Dash Baxter, still couldn't come.

Another few students came in behind Danny and found their seats. Danny didn't know their names, but he was pretty sure they were seniors, which was terrifying. Then Mr. Lancer arrived, and Mr. Falluca left, wishing Danny good luck.

"So, Danny, feeling prepared?" Mr. Lancer asked, handing him a clipboard with the attendance sheet that Danny had totally forgotten to get from the office.

"No," Danny admitted.

His teacher barked a laugh. "I suppose I should have expected that answer," he said. "I'm sure you'll do fine. I'll be sitting right there at Mr. Falluca's desk, so if you need to, you can ask me questions. You should start getting your materials ready, though. Your first class starts in just a few minutes."

"Right..."

Hesitantly, Danny picked up a piece of chalk and raised it to the blackboard. He wrote "Ghosts 101" in big letters, trying his best to make it legible, despite his chicken-scratch handwriting. Then, underneath, he wrote "Mr. Fenton," only to immediately erase it with a grimace and write "Danny Fenton".

More and more students streamed into the room until every single desk was full. Some of them Danny recognized, some he even had classes with. Valerie was seated in the third row, much to his surprise. Others, Danny had seen in the hallways, but never actually met. There was a mix of all different grades, but the seniors who'd signed up have been prioritized, since this would be their last chance to take it, so they made up almost half the class. Principal Ishiyama had warned him that would be the case, but it still made Danny nervous to be teaching upperclassmen.

Since it was seventh period, there was no bell to indicate class starting, and Danny had to watch the clock for 3:10 and then try to get his students attention.

"Alright, uh... class is starting now," everyone instantly silenced, much to his surprise and discomfort. He looked at Lancer anxiously.

Roll Call, mouthed the teacher, pointing at the clipboard on the edge of the desk.

"Right, so I'm gonna take attendance now," he said, picking up the clipboard. "There are a lot of you I've never met, so when I say your name, please raise your hand so I can see who you are." That was something his homeroom teacher had done in eighth grade, and he thought it made him sound more like he knew what he was doing."

There were an even forty students in his class, from Clara Acevedo, all the way to Liam Yancy. None were absent. When he put the roll sheet down, he did so thinking he wouldn't be able to remember all those names until the semester was over.

"Alright, everyone, welcome to Ghosts 101," he said, doing his best to project confidence. "Some of you know me already, but if you don't, I'm Danny Fenton, but you can just call me Danny. I may be your teacher for this class, but during the rest of the school day I'm your classmate too, so it would just be weird for you to call me Mr. Fenton or something like that. 

"Over the next semester, I'm gonna teach you everything I know about ghosts, as well as technology related to ghosts. Since this is only the first day, and we just got back from break, I'm gonna start off with the super easy stuff." Danny stepped to the side of the chalkboard and wrote down one simple question. "What is a ghost?" he said as he wrote. "You've all seen one, I'm sure, but what are they, really? What do you guys think?"

After a moment, a few hesitant hands lifted. Danny pointed to a senior girl dressed in punk aesthetic and tried to remember her name—something that started with a 'J' he thought. "Jane?" he guessed.

"Jade."

"Sorry, Jade," he corrected. "What is a ghost, Jade?"

"They're the lingering souls of the dead," she answered confidently.

Danny nodded and wrote "souls of the dead" on the chalkboard.

"Anyone else?" Danny asked, but a lot of hands had gone down after Jade's answer. "Valerie?"

"They're trouble," she answered.

Danny tried to suppress his smile as he wrote that up on the board as well, then looked around at the still raised hands. Next, he called upon one of the former student ghost hunters.

"Jack?"

"They're creatures made of ectoplasm who come from a place called the Ghost Zone," Jack answered.

Danny nodded with a smile and wrote "made of ecto" and "from Ghost Zone" as two separate bullet points.

"Does anyone else have an answer that hasn't been said yet?" No one raised their hand. "Alright, well I'm happy to say that you're all correct," he said. "The truth is, there are many different kinds of ghosts, with varying levels of sapience, and having formed from varying sources.

"The actual, legal definition of a ghost is: a creature that produces ectoplasm, is composed of ectoplasm, or required ectoplasm for continued existence. We'll come back to that specific definition later this week, since it requires more context to really understand, but while that definition is technically accurate, it's also very limited."

He went on to explain that, while some ghosts formed around the lingering emotions felt by someone who'd died, like Desiree or the Lunch Lady, others formed naturally in the Ghost Zone, like Undergrowth or Vortex. And that while some ghosts have human-level intelligence, others, like ectopusses and most blob ghosts, are more fueled by instinct and don't have conscious thought. He also added that ghosts were all driven by the emotions that formed them, and some ghosts that were formed by negative emotions, were driven to lash out and cause trouble for others, so really, Valerie was right too, to a degree.

While he spoke, he wrote simplified notes on the chalkboard to help everyone follow alone. Once he finished with that explanation, Danny glanced at the clock. He was making good time. Lancer's advice about timing his lecture had been super helpful while he was planning lessons. When he looked back at his students, he was pleased to see that most of them had notebooks out and pencils in hand, actually taking notes.

When most of them seemed to have caught up, he asked, "Any questions."

Almost every hand in the room shot up, and he instinctively took a step back in alarm. He looked at the clock again. Fifteen minutes left of class. Hopefully a lot of them had the same questions so he wouldn't have to answer all of them individually.

"Uh... uh..." His eyes darted around at the raised hands, suddenly incapable of deciding who to call on first. "Okay, how about this. Put your hands down. I'm gonna start with Star here in the front row," he pointed at star, then moved his finger across the front row. "Then we'll go across the front row, snack around to the second row and so on. We've got fifteen minutes left of class, but I wanna try and get everybody's question, so if somebody else already asked your question, just say 'pass' and hopefully we can get through everyone quickly. Sound good?"

There were some nods and shrugs from the classroom.

"Alright, go ahead Star."

"What would you say the spread is across different types of ghosts?" Star asked. "Like, would you say there are more ghosts who formed from dead humans, or who formed naturally in the Ghost Zone."

He frowned thoughtfully and furrowed his brows. "That's a tricky one, actually," he admitted. "The Ghost Zone is also sometimes Called 'the Infinite Realms', especially by older ghosts, and it is bigger than the human mind can really comprehend. Knowing that, I would guess that there are more Zone-born ghosts that former humans, however Zone-born ghosts tend to be less inclined to come to the human world because they have no real attachment here, so most of the ones we see in Amity Park used to be humans. Does that answer your question?"

Star nodded and scribbled down his answer.

"Paulina?"

"Why are ghosts so ugly?" she asked.

"Uhh... not sure I understand the question," he replied.

"Well, not all of them, because obviously the ghost boy's a total hottie," she clarified. "But a bunch of them are, like, oozy, and have, like, green or blue skin." 

"Oh, well, that's actually a combination of factors, one of them is the limitation of ectoplasm, because ectoplasm doesn't come in every color, and it takes energy to change the color of ectoplasm, so a stronger ghost can have a more varied color pallet than a weaker ghost, although some powerful ghosts also just really like the blue and green aesthetic.

"The other factor is that for ghosts, their physical appearance is based on their internal perception of themselves. Kinda like the concept of residual self-image from the Matrix movies. So a ghost that formed from the death of a teenager could be a hundred years old and still look fifteen. So a ghost that thinks of themself as old will look old, and a ghost who thinks of themself as ugly will look ugly. 

"Also, sometimes when a ghost forms from a particularly violent or painful death, those emotions can stick with the ghost, causing them to permanently look the way they did at the moment of their death. That's a lot less common than you might think, though."

It continued like that until, at the end of the first row, someone finally asked, "How do you know all these things? How did humans figure out that ghosts form from emotion, and that they can be from here or the Ghost Zone, and all that stuff."

Now that was a toughie, not because Danny didn't know the answer, but because the answer could give away that he was half-ghost. 

"Well... a lot of different ways, really. I guess the main two are studying ectoplasm samples and observing the Ghost Zone itself." Yeah... that was a safe answer. He had units planned on both those topics, so this bought him some time to come up with a better explanation. "I'm gonna teach more about both those things later in the semester."

Danny glanced at the clock. He'd been hoping to at least get to the second row, but time was up.

"Unfortunately, class is over now, so..."

"I don't mind staying late," a particularly studious-looking senior suggested.

"Uh... I mean, that's great, but I have homework to do," Danny said.

"Speaking of, are we gonna get any homework?" asked another student from the third row.

"Are you seriously asking your teacher about homework?" Danny asked, appalled. He'd always hated that kid. "No, I'm not planning on assigning any homework in this class, except for maybe telling you guys to finish classwork at home if we run out of time."

"In that case," the first student said, "Should we write down our questions as homework and bring them to class tomorrow?"

Danny blinked at her. Was this a joke? Class was over. Why were they asking for homework instead of just going home?

"I think that's a good idea," Valerie said.

"Okay, fine," Danny threw a hand up in defeat. "Fuck-it—wait," he turned to Mr. Lancer, "am I allowed to swear?"

"It's your class and your rules, Danny," Mr. Lancer replied with a shrug.

Ancients that was weird. "Okay, whatever," Danny said. "This homework is optional," he announced. "Anyone who would like to can write down their question on a three by five note card and give it to me at the beginning of class tomorrow and I'll do my best to answer them all before anything else. Now go home!"

What weirdos.

Chapter Text

It was a few months into the semester, and Danny was pretty sure there was something seriously wrong with his Ghosts 101 class. Everything was going really smoothly, which was nice, but they were eight weeks into the semester and these freakazoids were still asking for homework at least once a week, often making up their own homework which Danny then had to grade, and even though he announced every time that these homework assignments were optional, he still had over twenty kids turn them in. Every. Single. Time.

The ever-rotating cast of more experienced teachers who had to supervise him kept telling him how jealous they were about how engaged his students were. Every class, they would ask questions and take notes, obviously following the material. Danny had opted to weight participation more highly than most teachers on his grading rubric, since he hadn't planned on giving any homework. But he'd stop taking notes on who was participating after the second week because it was easier to write down the people who weren't participating, because most days everyone was.

Sure, from time to time there would be a student or two who was exhausted because it was the last period of the day, and didn't seem quite as focused as usual, but the vast majority of the time, everyone was on their A-game.

Today was the day of their first quiz. He'd spent the last two weeks getting into the nitty-gritty of ghost biology and and the different variations of ghosts, and now it was time for their end of unit test. There were only ten questions, each with write-in answers because Danny hadn't felt like coming up with multiple choice answers himself.

1. Provide one possible definition of a ghost.

2. In what set of laws is a ghost defined as "Any creature that produces ectoplasm, is composed of ectoplasm, or requires ectoplasm for continued existence?

3. Name the three basic elements that make up a ghost.

4. How do Zone-born ghosts form?

5. How do ex-human ghosts form?

6. How can ghosts reproduce?

7. How can two ghosts merge into one?

8. Why are some ghosts inherently troublesome while others are not?

9. What is one way to tell how powerful a ghost is?

10. What's something else you remember learning in class that wasn't on this test?

Danny expected at least half of his students to answer the first question with the definition provided in question 2. That was what he would do in their position. He'd written it that way on purpose, to give the slackers a chance at a decent grade. In any case, no one would be getting a zero, at least.

"Alright, all the tests are passed out so go ahead and start, raise your hand is you have any questions," Danny said. "When your done, hand me your test and feel free to go home early. You're also welcome to wait until everyone's done and compare answers, but you have to wait until everyone is done. Understood?"

Then he sat down at a chair he'd put in the front of the room and relaxed while all forty of his students sat silently, hunched over their tests, the only sound the scribbling of pencils and shifting of paper.

"Sure is peaceful on test days," he muttered to Mr. Falluca, who was supervising today.

"Mhm," the teacher hummed back. "Nice, isn't it?"

Danny nodded in agreement and watched passively for raised hands and anyone whose eyes weren't on their own test. He was glad he wasn't actually teaching today because truth be told, he wasn't feeling so hot. He hoped he wasn't getting sick. No one could sub for this class so if he was out sick, class would have to be canceled for the day and his whole curriculum for the semester could be thrown off.

None of Danny's students had elected to go home early. That meant that Danny couldn't go home early. He had to just sit there and grade tests while a bunch of teenagers sat around until the last one of them was done and then started comparing answers.

On the upside, since it was a short test and people finished at different speeds, Danny was able to grade some ahead of time, and since they'd all decided to stay and chat afterwards, he'd even been able to finish grading all of them.

"Okay." He straightened the stack of tests and then stood up. "So there's about five minutes left of class, but I've finished grading your tests. I'll need them back in order to enter your grades into the school computer, but I don't see any reason why you can't look at them now. So when I call your name, come get your test, but make sure I get it back before you leave for the day."

One by one, he called his students names. To his surprise, he was actually starting to memorize them already. There were a few he consistently forgot, but it was seeming more and more like it wouldn't take him until the end of the semester after all.

All-in-all, they'd done very well on the test. Granted, it wasn't exactly a difficult test, and he was pretty lenient with what he considered a correct answer, but the lowest score in the whole class was a seven. It was interesting to see what each of them had retained and how they'd memorized the information.

For example, Paulina had answered question 9 with the explanation he'd given her on the first day about how ectoplasm could only change colors when it was infused with greater amounts of energy. And Valerie had provided a very long and detailed explanation for question 8 which Danny had, admittedly, only skimmed, but it seemed right. 

About eight of the juniors and seniors had obviously formed a study group together, because they all had almost the exact same wording for their answers to questions 4 and 5, even though only two of them sat next two each other, and those two were near the front, so Danny definitely would have noticed if they'd looked at each other's tests. 

To Danny's surprise, only four people had used the definition in question 2 to answer question 1, and judging by the students who did, he was pretty sure they were doing it in a snarky way and not in a slacky way. Jade, for example. She one-hundred-percent definitely would have answered something like "the souls of the damned" except that she'd picked up on the opportunity to mock her teacher and chosen to do that instead.

They all compared tests, some of them groaning or face-palming at wrong answers that they swear they totally knew, they just spaced. Danny believed it, honestly. He'd been there.

He had them hand him back their tests on their way out of the classroom, and then stuffed them all into his backpack to enter into the school's computer system. Easily one of the weirdest things about this whole situation was that Danny had a teacher log-in to the school's computer system. Like he couldn't just go in and change anybody's grades if he wanted to, because he would need an admin log-in for that, but even being able to control the grades of just one elective class was weird as hell. Like, Danny could knock down entire buildings without breaking a sweat, but even so, this felt like too much power for him to have.

At home, he logged into his account and entered the date of the test. It was then that he realized why he'd been feeling so crappy. The anniversary of his death was coming up. It was just one week away.

This had happened once before, around the same time last year, and he'd just played sick and stayed home from school for the week to avoid getting exposed. It started with a day of just feeling like total garbage, then, gradually, his powers would start to go haywire. He would lose control even worse than when he'd first gotten them. Then, on the actual date....

Danny shuddered. He didn't even want to think about that.

For now, he had test scores to enter. And thank god the computer program did the math to calculate each student's total score in the class so he didn't have to. Speaking of which... he had a 'D' in math class, and a butt-load of homework to do.

But that didn't stop the looming threat of the upcoming anniversary from lingering in the back of his mind. It wasn't that he didn't want to do anything about it. He couldn't miss school when he had a class to teach, but he also couldn't go when he couldn't control whether or not gravity worked on him at any given time.

He just didn't know what to do. No idea how to fix it.

Maybe... maybe someone else would.

Danny paced circles around the ostentatious front porch of Vlad's mayoral mansion. Did he really want to do this? Sure they were "not evil anymore" supposedly, but just because they weren't trying to kill him anymore didn't mean they were suddenly his friend. And sure, Phantom had come to him for advice a while back, but did that actually imply that Danny could come to him too? 

In his head, Danny still had Vlad and Phantom settled vaguely in the 'enemies' category. Vlad especially. He may be "good", but he was still a fruitloop.

Danny sighed, then realized that at some point during his pacing, he'd paced right off the ground and was about three feet in the air. He yelped in alarm and grabbed one of Vlad's stupid pillars to drag himself back down to earth. He supposed that was what he got for waiting until the weekend.

He didn't have much of a choice.

With immense reluctance, Danny rang the doorbell.

It took a few minutes—big house—but eventually Vlad came to answer the door himself. He was much too secretive to hire a butler, not that he couldn't afford one.

"Daniel?" he asked, eyebrows raised at the sight of the teen. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Is Pha—I mean, Tom home?" They'd been going to school together since the spring semester started, but there was no way Danny would ever get used to calling him Tom Masters. It was too stupid. He had to, though, at least when there was any chance someone might overhear.

"Up in his room," Vlad said, letting Danny in and closing the huge door behind them. "I'll show you the way."

"I can find it," Danny said. 

He transformed and was off like a shot, following his ghost sense and phasing through walls until he floated in on Phantom, lifting weights with one arm while the other held a copy of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. His awkward mullet had finally grown out just long enough for him to tie it back into an awkward ponytail.

"Anyone ever teach you to knock?" Phantom asked without even looking up, red mist escaping his nose as Danny set of his ghost sense.

"Sorry," Danny said, shifting back and taking a seat in an armchair near where Phantom was working out. "So you actually have to work out, huh? And I half thought you just willed yourself to grow muscle."

"That's not how human bodies work," Phantom growled, his face morphing with anger. "Of course I have to work out. I like it, though. It's soothing."

Danny pursed his lips, taking in his red face and frustrated tone. "I can tell," he said. "Anyway, I have kind of a stupid question for you—"

"Your death day's coming up and you want to know how to stop time or magically not be traumatized by having every atom in your body rearranged in a cataclysmically painful lab accident?" 

"Myyyy.... yeah. Pretty much." 

"Can't help." He snapped his book shut and raised an eyebrow at Danny. "I don't really have a death-day, remember? When I formed myself out of two ghosts, the reactions encoded into their ectoplasm that reminded them of the day they died were overwritten. I don't have a special little day where everything sucks. I get to be traumatized all the time."

Danny groaned and sank back into the armchair. "So what should I do then? I can't just hide in my room and hope nobody notices like I did last year. I gotta find some sort of solution for this."

"You could ask Vlad," Phantom suggested.

Danny grimaced. "Vlad?" he repeated. He liked Vlad even less than he liked Phantom. "Look, I know you're both supposedly good now, but Vlad is such a creep!"

"He's also the only other halfa on this hemisphere."

Danny frowned, remembering the postcard from Fiji he'd gotten a few weeks back. He guessed Vlad must've gotten a similar one in order for Phantom to know that. That was nice, he supposed, that Vlad and Dani were reconnecting enough she felt comfortable with him knowing what country she was in.

He tried to come up with an argument, but... he drew a blank. Talking to a full ghost was an option, but even though he was gradually making amends for past animosity, he didn't think most of them would be up for an emotional chat. Plus, they didn't have to worry about keeping their powers a secret, so it was entirely possible they just didn't care.

With a groan Danny stood and trudged to the door.

"Fine. I'll ask stupid Vlad about his stupid death-day."

"Can I make one suggestion?" Danny turned to Phantom, who smirked. "Don't ask like that."

He slammed the door behind him.

Danny already knew where Vlad's home office was, so he didn't have to search. He trudged straight there through the ridiculously fancy hallways—though he was stalled halfway through by his intangibility acting up and causing him to sink through the floor. Twice. He could feel his eyes glowing too, and though he tried, there was no changing them back to blue, not for a while, anyway. At least everyone in Vlad's dumb mansion already knew his secret, so he didn't have to worry about that.

That didn't really make it any less frustrating, though.

It didn't take long for Danny to reach Vlad's office, but once he got there it did take him a while to finally talk himself into entering so he could actually have a conversation with the man.

He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and knocked.

"Come in," called Vlad from within.

He looked up when Danny entered, and looked momentarily surprised.

"Daniel," he greeted. "I thought you would be Phantom. I thought you weren't here for me?"

"I wasn't," Danny said bitterly, taking a seat in the chair opposite Vlad's desk. "But I guess I am now."

Vlad frowned, and narrowed his eyes, considering the situation. "I take it Phantom didn't have the answer you were looking for?"

"Right on the money."

"Alright, I suppose I can take a stab at it," Vlad leaned back in his chair, giving Danny his full attention. "What seems to be your problem?"

As Danny explained his situation, the expression on Vlad's face grew darker and darker. After a certain point, Danny was hesitant to even ask for Vlad's advice, since the man was clearly upset, but... he still needed help.

"I see," Vlad said finally. "That is... quite the conundrum. Truth be told, I never have found a solution for that particular problem. I tend to schedule my vacation days for that period and plan to wallow for a week or so until it passes."

"That's it?" Danny gaped at him. Here he thought Vlad had totally mastered every part of being a half ghost and now he was telling Danny that his solution was just to call in sick and suffer? "That's terrible advice!"

"I know," Vlad agreed, resting his head on his hand. "I wish I could give you something better, but I'm afraid that's something I haven't fully figured out either."

"So this was a completely pointless conversation, then."

"'Fraid so."

Danny stood up and turned toward the door.

"If you do find a solution, would you let me know?" Vlad called after him as he left.

"Sure, whatever," Danny grumbled, closing the door behind him a little harder than was strictly necessary.

This was the absolute last thing Danny needed as he was flying home from his failed advice session with Vlad and Phantom. After all the effort the last few months to reforge his relationships with the other ghosts and learn to empathize with them, they'd been a lot less antagonistic. Ever since the last Truce especially.

So why in the name of all the Ancients were Johnny and Kitty tearing through the crowded streets with Shadow setting off fireworks in their wake?

With a deep groan, Danny swerved down to street level and flew alongside them. The motorcycle was too loud to talk to the pair, no doubt deliberate, since Johnny had complete control over the spectral machine. When Johnny noticed him, Danny gave him a look of stern disapproval and pointed to an alleyway just ahead. Johnny rolled his eyes, but pulled into it anyway.

"Come on, man, I thought you were gonna let us have some fun from now on!" Johnny griped as soon as the bike pulled to a stop.

"Harmless fun," Danny reminded him. "I'll let you have some harmless fun. When your fun breaks the windshield of the car behind you and sets a mailbox on fire, that's no longer harmless. Weaving through traffic is one thing, but the fireworks have gotta go."

"Oh boo," Kitty pouted. "It's not like we're doing anything illegal."

"Yes! You are!" Danny argued. "Those things aren't sparklers. Fireworks like that are illegal in Illinois."

"We're in Illinois?" Johnny and Kitty both echoed, shocked.

Danny just opened his mouth and blinked at them before closing it again, not knowing how to even respond. It had been two years since they started coming over here and they didn't even know what state they were in? He shook his head.

"Look, I'm really not in the mood today," Danny said. "I've got enough going on without you setting the whole town on fire, so if you would kindly knock it off so I don't have to put you in Ghost Zone time out, that would be great."

"Death day's coming up, huh?" Kitty guessed.

"Huh? How'd you know?"

"You're icing up the sidewalk." 

She pointed down and Danny followed her finger to see a thin layer of frost was indeed spreading from him across the alleyway. He groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I forget sometimes you're just a wittle baby ghosty."

"Oh, shut it!" Danny snapped, scowling.

Then he realized what her statement was implying.

"Wait, you mean this doesn't happen to you guys?" he asked. "You don't lose control near the anniversary?"

"Death-day, sweetie," Kitty corrected. "It's called a death-day."

"And no," Johnny confirmed. "That only happens the first few years for most ghost, but me and Kitty only went through it once."

"How do you make it stop?" Danny asked.

"Acceptance," Kitty said, smiling softly at him, as if she was comforting a small child. "That's the last stage of grief, right?"

"Once you accept that you're really dead, and accept your new existence, it won't hurt as much, and you won't lose control," Johnny continued. "I guess that would be harder for a half-ghost, like you, but I don't think you'd have to give up your life as it is, as long as you just don't cling to it so hard."

"It helps to have people around you to lean on," Kitty added. "That's how me and Johnny got over it so fast—'cause we had each other."

"You're telling me that processing my grief over my own death is the only way to overcome the pain of my death-day?" Danny reiterated. "That makes way too much sense."

"You would have figured it out eventually," Kitty put a comforting hand on his shoulder that was instantly counteracted by her condescending smile. Even Shadow cast himself on the wall rather than the ground to nod reassuringly.

"Can we go now?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah," Danny said. "But no more fireworks, okay?"

Kitty rolled her eyes and Johnny groaned. "Yeah, fine."

They climbed back onto their bike and made a sharp U-turn in the alley.

"Good luck with your death-day problem!" Kitty called as they peeled out onto the street.

The next day, three days before his death-day, Danny invited Sam and Tucker over and explained the situation. They agreed to sit with him in his room while he processed his grief so he could move past all this. He told himself he wouldn't cry.

He cried.

He let his friends hug him as he talked out all his thoughts, his conversations with Vlad, Phantom, Johnny and Kitty. He pushed past his anxiety and his apprehension, and told them about his feelings. He even told them, in hushed tones they could barely hear, about what the portal accident had felt like to him, about the pain he'd sworn he would never burden anyone else with, and how he'd tried his best to ignore it and forget it so that he could go on living a normal life.

But his life wasn't normal. It never would be again. And that was what he needed to accept.

A few hours later, when all of them were completely emotionally drained, Sam went downstairs to grab some snacks and water for everyone, and Tucker pirated one of Danny's favorite TV shows and they all curled up on the bed watching it on Tucker's tiny PDA screen, eating tortilla chips and salsa.

He was able to control himself after that, though the days passed with a layer of melancholy that came with knowing deep in his core that he would never be the same as he once was. He passed the information he'd learned to Vlad via Phantom. Assuming that Phantom actually passed it along.

On his death-day, he was able to teach his class without incident, he didn't re-live the accident again, as he had the year before. After all, he wasn't fully alive to do so.

When he got home, he decided to spend the rest evening in the Ghost Zone, knowing the surrounding ectoplasm would soothe his soul. Word must have spread that his death-day was today somehow, because every ghost he interacted with said the same thing.

"Good death-day. My sympathies."

Chapter Text

Once his death-day had passed, everything was business as usual. Danny hadn't had to cancel any of his classes, thankfully, so his schedule wasn't thrown off. The only thing he was still struggling with was homework, both his from other classes that he had hardly any time to do, and his students', which they continued to give themselves, despite his protests, and he then had to grade.

"Um, Danny?" Paulina asked him before class started one day, handing in her diagram for safe use and handling of a Fenton Ecto-gun. She looked over her shoulder at Star, who nodded encouragingly. "Can... can I talk to you after class? It's... ghost related."

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows. Even as enthusiastic as they were, this was the first time any of his students asked to see him after class for a ghost related inquiry. "Sure," he told her.

She nodded and found her seat, Star hyping her up and patting her on the back in congratulations. If she needed moral support just to ask to talk, Danny couldn't help wondering what this ghost-related conversation was going to be about? Could someone be in danger from a ghost? Sick with ghost flu? It seemed like it was pretty serious. 

His concern over Paulina's problem made it difficult to focus on teaching his lesson on capture devices and how they worked, but he'd practiced it and he had his notebook, so he managed to get through it. When class ended, Melissa, one of the seniors in the study group, suggested they all draw up diagrams of a Fenton capture device like they'd done with ecto-rays the day before, despite Danny's protests. 

"Just a reminder that all homework is optional!" Danny insisted as they all packed up their stuff and started to leave. "It's not even counted toward your grade in this class! I barely look at it!"

He knew his reminder would be ignored by at least half the class, as it always was, but he reminded them anyway in the vain hopes that he wouldn't have to juggle yet another stupid stack of papers on his way home. His parents were starting to get suspicious over the amount of "homework" he kept getting. So far he'd managed to keep them from finding out he was teaching the ghost class—telling them instead that he was taking the class 7th period—but he was sure it wouldn't be long before they figured it out.

"Danny?"

He turned toward Paulina and smiled. Star was standing a few steps behind her, clearly trying to support her without getting in the way. "Hi, Paulina. So what did you want to talk about?"

"Um," she looked back at Star, who nodded and made a 'go on' motion with her hands. "So... you remember that amulet you gave me before the spring dance last year? The one you said was a family heirloom?"

Danny tensed. "Yeahh...."

"Well... I'm pretty sure it was haunted or something," she continued. "When I wore it, I got these memory blanks, and ever since then, even after you took it back, I get..." she looked back at Star again.

"You can do it," Star whispered to her.

"I get... um... symptoms?" she told him, more a question than anything. "It's kind of hard to explain, but... whenever I get angry, I get..." she looked around at the empty classroom and lowered her voice to a whisper, "scales. God, this is so embarrassing. Star told me my eyes change too, and if I'm really mad, my—ugh—my tongue gets all weird. It's so gross. Anyway, I'm pretty sure it's a ghost thing, so... I thought I should talk to you." 

Danny cringed, but nodded. Ancients, he'd been really stupid when he'd first gotten his powers. He'd had no sense of caution when it came to ghostly artifacts, and didn't take the danger of ghosts seriously just because they couldn't do much to seriously hurt him. 

Not to mention that he couldn't say 'no' to a pretty girl, which was still a problem, although now that he had a bunch of pretty girls in the class he was teaching, he was actually getting better at being normal around them. He hadn't even gotten butterflies in his stomach when Paulina had asked to talk to him privately.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he said after taking a breath to collect himself. "It's my fault this is happening to you. I didn't know what I was giving you before I did, but I should have suspected that a... family heirloom in my family would have some kind of relation to ghosts. That amulet was tied to a spirit from the middle ages, and gave the wearer the ability to turn into a dragon when angered. That was what happened during the time you can't remember. It was kind of a disaster—but thankfully Danny Phantom took care of it and helped me get the amulet back from you and safely where it belonged.

"I thought once you were no longer wearing the amulet, the problem would be completely solved. I see now there must have been lingering effects, since you wore it every day for a while."

"Is there anything I can do about it?" Paulina asked. "I don't want to turn into a scaly freak every time someone pisses me off."

"I... don't know," Danny admitted. "Don't worry, though, I'm gonna do some research and see if I can find a solution. I don't know if there's a way to make the effects go away completely, but if there is, I'll find it, and if there isn't, I should at least be able to help you get them under control. I promise."

Paulina gave him a hesitant smile. "Alright, I'll hold you to that. Thanks, Danny."

With that, she and her friend left the classroom with Star saying, "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Unfortunately, though Danny pored over all his parents' research on ghostly artifacts, what they had to offer was scant to say the least. They were more interested in ghosts themselves than any artifacts. He borrowed Freakshow's book of ghostly artifacts from Sam, but it was basically just a compendium of known ghost artifacts in the real world and had very little information about the long-term effects of using them. Not to mention that it didn't have any information on Dorathea's amulet specifically.

He'd tapped out all his human resources within a day, and after that, he decided to go straight to the source. In vain, he'd hoped that he wouldn't have to disturb Dorathea directly, since she did have a kingdom to run in the Ghost Zone, but he'd promised Paulina that he would get answers, and if anyone had them, it would be Dora.

"Danny!" Dora greeted enthusiastically, standing from her throne and drifting over to him.

He'd had no trouble getting an audience with her. The castle guards recognized him and immediately escorted him to her as soon as he'd asked. Honestly, he'd thought he would have to wait longer. Apparently she wasn't as busy as he'd assumed.

"Hey, Dora," he smiled and accepting the hug she offered. "Good to see you again."

"Oh, you too!" she agreed. "What brings you here? I assume you didn't just come for a chat?"

"No, but it will be a nice side-effect." He explained the situation to her, catching her up on all the things she wasn't privy to, like the fact that he was teaching, and that Paulina was still experiencing effects from her amulet even though over a year had passed.

"I see," she said thoughtfully once he'd finished. Over the course of his explanation, she'd had a table and tea brought in for them. He'd hardly noticed, as he'd been pacing and gesticulating exasperatedly from his worries. She took a sip of her tea and considered the predicament.

"Mastering the amulet is a process that can take years," she said. "It's a powerful ghostly artifact that should never be used lightly, but given the circumstances, I suppose it's a bit late for that particular bit of advice."

"Yeah..." Danny flopped into the empty chair and let Dora telekinetically pour him some tea. "Sorry I was such an idiot back then." 

The tea was warm, and had a sweet, citrus scent to it, and a faint green tinge to it's color. He mixed some honey into it and took a sip. As he suspected, it was mostly ectoplasm. Not bad, though.

"What's done is done," Dora said. "We cannot change was has already passed, only try to ease our journey into the future. And I know all about journey's to the future," she tacked on with a smile. 

"So do you know how to cure the effects of the Amulet?"

"Oh, they will fade on their own in time, but it will take years, perhaps decades, and I know no way to speed the process along," she said. "I can, however, teach your student how to control her powers until they disappear. I have centuries of experience, and would be glad to pass my knowledge onto a pupil."

"Really?" Danny asked. "You're not too busy running the medieval realm?"

"The nice thing about death, is that none of the problems here are urgent," she replied. "I can find plenty of things to do here, but none that can't wait. My realm can take care of itself for the time it takes me to impart my wisdom onto this Paulina, whose difficulties so trouble you."

"That... that would be fantastic!" 

He didn't know why he didn't think of it before, honestly. When he was struggling with his own ghost powers, Johnny and Kitty had been more helpful than his fellow half-ghost. And now that he was thinking about it, Paulina wasn't his only student who could learn a thing or two from having a ghostly mentor, even if it was just for a day or two.

Then again, there was no way Principal Ishiyama would allow such a thing. But maybe she didn't have to know? If Danny wanted to be the bridge between the two worlds, that meant not only fixing his own relationship with his fellow ghosts, but also facilitating relationships between ghosts and humans aside from himself.

It didn't take long to make arrangements with Dorathea, and then he went on to contact some other ghosts that he knew and was on decent terms with. Ones that could be trusted not to harm or negatively influence his students, of course. As grateful as he was for Johnny and Kitty's help with his death-day problem, he was not letting them anywhere near impressionable high-school students. They'd end up starting a biker gang together.

"Alright, everyone take your seats," Danny said. "It's time for class to start."

He waited a few seconds while his class got settled. The supervising teacher this week was Mr. LaRosa, the absolutely ancient senior English teacher who, as usual, had greeted Danny upon his arrival, and then fallen asleep in his chair within moments of sitting down. Danny had specifically planned this lesson for a day when Mr. LaRosa was supervising for that very reason.

"So, there's a bit of a change of plans this week," he began, once everyone was paying attention. "I've pushed back the unit on ghostly obsessions in favor of a very different kind of lesson. I urge you all to remain calm as I introduce your guest mentors for this week."

The group of ghosts that had been hovering invisibly at the front of the classroom, awaiting their cue, made themselves known. The students of Ghosts 101 let out a collective gasp.

"I assure you, these ghosts will be on their best behavior over the next few days, isn't that right?" he fixed them all with a stern look. "Just in case, I brought my own ghost hunting equipment today to keep them in check, for your safety. I also asked Danny Phantom to participate, but while he was too busy for the full class, he did promise to do a fly-by and check on things. There is nothing at all for you to worry about.

"Without further ado, let me introduce your ghostly mentors. Princess Dorathea, Frostbite, The Box Ghost, Desiree, Pandora, Ember McLain, Phantom—not to be confused with Danny Phantom, Amorpho, Lydia, Walker, Wulf—Tucker Foley will be here to translate for him a little later, Sidney Poindexter, Skulker, Youngblood and his partner Skelton, Vlad Plasmius, Bertrand, Lunch Lady, Kitty, and Johnny 13. And they all promise to be on their very best behavior, right?"

"Right!" all the ghosts replied.

Despite his best efforts, Johnny and Kitty had found out about his little project and talked their way into being involved. The same was true of Ember and Youngblood. Penelope Spectra had tried as well, but was not convincing enough with her false promises not to feed on his students misery, and so had given up and allowed Bertrand to come alone. He'd asked Clockwork too, but, ironically, the Master of Time couldn't make the time.

"And if they break that promise they will be souped in 10 seconds flat and put in time-out until this week is over, then sent back to the ghost zone. Right?"

"Right," the ghosts replied once more, some of them grumbling, and all of them less enthusiastically.

"Alright, I'm gonna pair you all up, two students per ghostly mentor, except two groups will have three students, and then we're all gonna go out to the quad so we have a little more space and nobody has to yell over each other," Danny said. "Once we're all outside, find your ghostly mentor, and ask them any questions you like, they're here to teach your more about their people and their culture, though, so they're not obligated to answer questions they think are too personal. Any questions before I start partnering everyone up?"

Many hands shot up, and Danny sighed and called on someone at random. "Liam?"

"How do you know all these ghosts?" Liam asked, baffled. "Like, well enough that they would just come to your class and teach us? What the hell, dude?"

"I have a portal to the Ghost Zone in my basement. I made connections," Danny answered with a raised eyebrow. "Anyone else have a different question? Yes Melissa?" 

"How did you get the school board to approve of this?"

"Well, see, the thing about that is... who wants to know who their ghost mentor is?"

The deflection worked like a charm. Thankfully, though they were confused and a little nervous, his students also seemed to be really excited for this.

"Alright, I have Star and Paulina with Dora. Jade and Spike, you're with Lydia." One by one, he listed each group, and once everyone was assigned to a group, he led them out of the classroom to the quad. 

Tucker met up with him there and they exchanged some hellos before Tucker went off to find Wulf and fulfill his role as Esperanto translator. Cautiously, the students found their ghostly mentors, and started interviewing them about all the things Danny hadn't been able to teach them.

After a few minutes, Danny started doing the rounds, checking up on each of the groups. 

Skulker was already regaling Jack and Kwan with tales of his most impressive hunts in the Ghost Zone—and in doing so, teaching them a lot about how the Zone worked and what kind of creatures and terrains could be found there.

Lydia was just showing off her tattoos for Jade and Spike, and having them do tricks. That was fine. Those two were doing really well in the class already and deserved to have a little fun with ghosts.

Johnny and Kitty had combined their groups, and were giving surprisingly detailed answers to their four students about what made each ex-human ghost unique, and how being a ghost after having lived changed their perspective on existence. They actually seemed to be taking this whole thing really seriously. It was kinda making Danny feel bad about assuming they'd be a bad influence.

When he got to Dora's group, he was pleased to find that Paulina and Star were listening with rapt attention while the royal ghost told them all about ghostly artifacts and how to manage their lingering effects. Upon Paulina's request, Danny gave them permission to move to a more secluded place for Paulina to practice controlling her abilities away from prying eyes.

Melissa, Valerie, and Ashley seemed to be having a great time grilling Frostbite for every drop of new information they could get from him, asking follow-up question after follow-up question until Danny couldn't believe they still remembered what the inquiry that sparked the line of questioning even was anymore. Each of them had a notebook in hand and their pencils scratched across them at such speeds Danny was surprised they hadn't caught fire from the friction yet.

It seemed that Danny had done a good job assigning groups, because everyone was fully engaged, both students and ghosts.

About halfway through the class period, he slipped away to make an appearance as Danny Phantom, mostly to give his students peace of mind, since all the ghosts already knew who he was. The fact that nobody squealed or asked for his autograph when he landed was a testament to the effectiveness of this lesson.

Still, Danny drifted around in his ghost form for a few minutes, checking in on all the students and making sure they felt safe—and yes, signing a couple of autographs while he was there. None of the students seemed to notice that their teacher was missing the whole time Phantom was around, too focused on the ghosts. 

He made an announcement when the class period had officially ended. A few of the ghosts had to leave at that time (namely Frostbite and Pandora, who had realms to run; and Phantom and Plasmius, who had work to do in the human world and had only allotted an hour for this), but Danny assured them all that he would stick around for a few more hours if anyone wanted to stay and keep chatting to their new ghostly mentors, but that he would have to do his homework at the same time.

Almost all the students, except the few who had after-school obligations, decided to stay. Some of those whose mentors had to leave asked if they could join one of the other groups, and Danny allowed it. Johnny and Kitty's group also asked if they could take turns going around the block on Johnny 13's bike, but Danny adamantly refused that request. 

The rest of the week went much the same. Some ghosts couldn't come some of the days, and Danny shifted the groups around so the students could get the most of the experience. As far as lessons and learning, the week went exceptionally well. The only problem was that with each new faculty supervisor, Danny had to come up with a new way to keep them from telling Principal Ishiyama about everything—usually by convincing them that she already knew and had definitely, totally approved of this. Yup. A hundred percent.

Chapter Text

Early in the semester, Mr. Lancer had told Danny that one of the highest honors as a teacher, was giving a lesson so engaging that your students would, completely unprompted, go home and tell their families all about what they'd learned. Such an honor was relatively common among elementary school teachers, but very seldom bestowed among high school teachers, and therefore even more highly coveted.

That made sense to Danny. The last time he'd told his parents about what he'd learned at school unprompted was after his class went on a field trip to the planetarium in fifth grade.

He kind of wished the lesson his students had gotten excited enough to tell their families about hadn't been the one involving actual ghosts that he hadn't gotten permission for. He doubly wished that it hadn't started a town-wide craze of theorizing how ghosts—and Danny Phantom in particular—had died.

Primarily, Danny would have to say this was Johnny and Kitty's fault, leading him to once again regret allowing them to join as mentors. They were the first ones to openly talk about their deaths. A motorcycle accident—as if that wasn't obvious. That, of course, sparked the students curiosity, and they began asking the other ghostly mentors about their deaths—despite being warned how rude that was.

A few ghosts answered. Youngblood talked briefly about getting very sick and spending most of his living days in a hospital, before waving it off and saying he didn't want to talk about boring stuff like that anymore. 

Poindexter quietly admitted to committing suicide, having falsely assumed that death would be an escape from the relentless bullying—and went on to vehemently advocate against anyone else following his example because it wasn't worth it. 

Ember flippantly mentioned malfunctioning concert pyrotechnics before quickly changing the subject. 

None of the others who'd died were willing to talk about it at all. Unfortunately, That only made the students more curious, and as they shared what they'd learned in Danny's class with their families and fellow students, it grew more and more out of hand.

Now, mere minutes before class was about to start, Danny's students were sitting around the classroom, some of them on top of others' desks so they could be closer together, theorizing amongst themselves about how he had died, and they didn't even know it. And he didn't know how to make them stop without revealing that he was the ghost they were talking about.

"That jumpsuit he wears looks a lot like the Fenton ones," Ashley pointed out. "You think maybe he was a ghost hunter before he was a ghost?"

"Ghost hunter in training, maybe?" Star countered consideringly. "He's only about our age, I think. He probably wasn't going out hunting ghosts alone when he was alive."

"How do you think he died, then?" Jade asked. "Ghost hunt gone wrong? Lydia said ghosts don't really like to kill living people because if the person they kill also becomes a ghost it can be super awkward, but maybe it was an accident."

"Or a misfire," Kwan proposed. "You know, a prototype weapon exploding, or a trap malfunctioning? Most ghost tech is still experimental. Remember Danny told us only about 30% of Fenton tech works as intended right away."

"You know, Ember and Boxy both talked about how ghosts have powers that are unique to them, often relating to who they were in life, or how they died, in addition to all the basic ghost powers like flying and intangibility," Melissa was saying as Danny noted by the clock that it was time for class to start, but he was frozen in place, wishing he could shut them up, but unable to thanks to his own morbid curiosity. "You guys remember Danny Phantom's ghostly wail? He doesn't use it very often. Is it just me, or does it kind of sound like a dying scream?"

"You think it could be the same scream from when he died?" Jade leaned toward her, eyes burning with sick excitement at the idea. "I would totally believe that. But his death must have been super painful for him to make a sound like that."

"If you're right," Paulina shuddered before speaking. "I don't think a misfired weapon would cause that. It would have to be something way worse."

"There are animal ghosts," Jack recalled. "I could see being torn apart by beasts causing someone to scream like that. Plus, they wouldn't have the presence of mind to worry about how awkward him becoming a ghost would be."

"You know," Ashley said thoughtfully, "The Fentons wear their jumpsuits all the time, not just out on ghost hunts. Maybe it was, like, a lab accident or something."

Danny cleared his throat loudly, drawing their attention. Morbid curiosity be damned, they were getting way too close for comfort. "Are you done?" he asked pointedly. "Class officially started almost five minutes ago, and I'm trying to teach a lesson here."

That got them to quiet down and find their seats pretty quickly.

"Before I begin, I want to remind you all the asking and speculating about a ghost's death is extremely rude in ghost culture," he said. "I know several of your ghostly mentors told you that, so there's no way you aren't aware. What you were talking about just now was a real person who really died, and you would sit around positing more and more horrifying theories on how it happened. You must realize how insensitive that is."

The students who were involved in the conversation looked chastised, their shoulders curling and eyes fixed on their desks. 

Danny sighed. "I get that you're curious—you always are, which makes teaching this class both really fun and a huge pain depending on the day. But death is a very personal thing, and it's impolite to pry. Imagine if your classmates were coming up with theories about the worst day of your life? Probably wouldn't feel too good, would it?

"That said, because of this recent fad you demonstrated so well at the start of today's class, I've decided to switch the units on ghostly culture and ectoplasmic chemistry. I'm not sure if anyone even still has the syllabus, let alone uses it, but if you do, go ahead and scratch those out and swap their places. This week and next week will be ghost culture, our next unit on ectoplasm as an energy source will be pushed back a week, and ectoplasmic chemistry will follow that. Everything after that should be the same."

To his surprise, a handful of students actually did pull out and amend their syllabi. 

Ancients, he was teaching a bunch of nerds.

Ghosts 101 had been a booming success in its first year. So much so that all Danny's fellow teachers chipped in to pay for him to take his first year of online college courses during his junior year, so he could get his teaching degree faster. Danny didn't particularly want to do college classes on top of high school classes on top of teaching his own class, but he couldn't turn down such an expensive gift. So even though it sucked so much to spend a cumulative twelve hours every day on school, he graduated high school with an associate's degree and went on to get his teaching degree as well over the next few years, continuing to teach his seventh period ghost class the whole time.

Growing up, teaching had never been a career path Danny seriously considered. He'd wanted to be an astronaut for as long as he could remember, only to have those dreams dashed when he had his fist medical check-up after becoming half-ghost (which he'd put off for nearly two years out of fear of what the doctor might find before), and discovered that his body was messed up now, and there was no way in hell he'd pass the physical requirements to qualify for astronaut candidacy at NASA. Or anywhere else for that matter.

It had been devastating for a time. But times changed. Danny did actually like teaching Ghosts 101, so he wasn't entirely opposed to getting a teaching degree. Plus, as it turned out, he was pretty well suited to it.

It was funny. Back in middle school, Danny had thought it was mean, when he found out Jazz marked up some of their parent's papers with red like she was grading them or something. She was only fourteen and they'd spent their whole lives studying ghosts. Now, years later, he couldn't help but make some comments of his own. After all, he had personal experience—both with being a ghost, and with professionally teaching lessons about ghosts.

Ancients help him, but after grading so many essays, he couldn't fathom how his father had graduated college at all, let alone gotten a doctorate.

His parents did find out, about halfway through his second year of teaching, that he wasn't actually taking a one semester class for the third time for an easy A. But rather than being upset at having been passed over for the job themselves, they told Danny how proud they were of him, and made an effort to include him—or at least keep him in the loop—on any new research they were doing. 

When he graduated with his teaching degree and a full-time job already lined up, they were more proud of him than they had ever been.

After that, Ghosts 101 became a required class at Casper High School. Without the need for a licensed teacher to supervise all his classes, Danny started teaching five periods a day—which was actually easier than teaching one period a day while being a full-time student himself, especially since he still refused to give required homework.

His co-workers loved to light-heartedly gripe about how he was everyone's favorite teacher, but it was only because he was teaching about ghosts, whereas they had to teach about things like math and history. Danny argued that it was because of the no homework thing, but despite his best efforts, he never actually convinced any of his fellow teachers to stop assigning it.

They threw him a nice party for his ten-year anniversary of teaching at Casper, with a green-frosted sheet cake featuring little candy figurines of all Amity Park's most prominent ghosts.

It wasn't a future he would ever have envisioned for himself in his youth, but Danny was happy, and fulfilled. His coworkers were surprisingly fun to be around in a way he couldn't have imagined back when he was their student, he was imparting all kinds of knowledge on the next generation, and this work allowed him to really come into his role of bridging the human world and the Ghost Zone.

Of course, even ten years later, Principal Ishiyama still refused to approve a field trip to the Ghost Zone, insisting that it was "too dangerous" and "I would be absolutely crucified by angry parents if I allowed that," but he kept asking. He was pretty sure he'd be able to wear her down... eventually.