Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Danny Phantom are not mine. I doubt they'd be half as awesome if they were. v.v

Warnings: None for this chapter. It's all pretty tame.

Ok, since several people have asked, this is set during the Order of the Pheonix in the Potter-verse. I'd kind of assumed that was obvious given the setting. ^^; And Danny is still 14 here. I'll be disregarding most of the third season as far as Danny's time line goes. He'll still have his ice powers though. Just cause I love them and their possibilities.~ Ok, now that I've given you guys that bit of info, on with the fic!

Chapter 3: Conversations

Harry grit his teeth as he scrubbed at a patch of mold on the floor, his mind occupied by thoughts of the Order's conspicuous new charge. He, Hermione, and Ron had been tasked with cleaning and clearing out the second floor study today. His two friends went about their own tasks in silence but it was fairly clear that no one was focusing on what they were doing. The spot Harry had been scrubbing was beginning to get worn out from the attention he was giving it while his mind wandered.

Who was this new boy? What was he doing here? Why was everyone being so tight lipped about him? He'd gotten his name at breakfast but little else so far by way of actual information. There were a few conclusions he could probably come to just from observations, however, and he wasn't all that happy with the lines he was drawing. By the way Lupin and Mrs. Weasly spoke to him he could conclude that Danny had at least witnessed something pretty bad. Their looks had been fairly soaked with pity and sympathy after all. The more worrying thing, in Harry's mind at least, was that the boy was American. If the order had gone all the way to America to pick him up then it must have been a very big deal. Was Voldemort spreading across seas now? Or, if not that, then what else could be the reason?

And why did he have to make guesses anyway? Why weren't they telling him anything about this? Why weren't they telling him anything at all?! Didn't he deserve to be in the loop?! Dumbledore had been avoiding him since he arrived and before then he'd been deprived of any sort of information even from his friends! Plopping a whole new mystery right on top of everything else was almost unfair!

'Nothing about this is fair!' Danny's earlier words echoed in his head, nearly making him wince.

He was jerked from his thoughts when a sliver came loose from the old wood under his scrub brush and embedded itself in his thumb. With a short grunt of pain he dropped the brush and brought the injured digit to his mouth. Hermione was next to him in seconds, gently taking his hand to inspect the damage as Ron turned to watch from his own section of the room.

"Looks like it's just a sliver. I can get it out for you but you should probably get some disinfectant on it as well." She said quietly before pulling out her wand to extract the sharp piece of wood.

"Why do you suppose he's here?" Harry asked, voicing the question on all of their minds. There was no need to clarify who 'he' was.

There was a quiet moment while Hermione released Harry's hand, once it was wood free of course, and stood back up to go back to the desk where she'd been clearing out drawers. "From what it sounded like, it must have been something horrible…" She muttered with a hint of sympathy, reiterating Harry's own thoughts.

"You don't know that." Ron called, turning to lean against the wall and temporarily abandoning the dust stained window he'd been scrubbing.. "For all we know he could be a plant of some sort sent to spy on us."

Hermione huffed in mild exasperation at the red head as she turned to chuck another item into the trash bag next to her on the floor. "Ron, really, do you actually think Dumbledore would allow such a thing to happen? Besides, don't you think Danny's rather young for something like that? He can't be more than thirteen or fourteen years old."

"I don't think there's an age limit for being a death eater." Ron grumped, arms crossing defensively across his chest.

"He was wearing short sleeves. We could see both his arms and there was no dark mark." Harry picked his scrub brush back up but made no move to continue his chore.

"I still say we can't trust him. Just look at how he acted at breakfast! Blowing up on us like that!"

"You mean blowing up on you." Hermione paused in her motions to turn and glare reprovingly at Ron. "And I can't say I blame him, as rude as you were. I thought he seemed rather nice until you set him off."

"Rather nice? He practically bit mine and Harry's heads off!" Ron shot back looking a bit wounded.

"And how would you have reacted in his place?" the muggle born shot back heatedly, placing her hands on her hips.

Harry growled and stood, throwing his scrub brush to the floor harshly. "Would you two quit it! This isn't getting us anywhere!"

Ron looked torn between apologizing and continuing his tirade, a look on his face like he'd just swallowed a toad. Hermione just looked ashamed of herself. The awkward moment was interrupted by a short knock on the open door.

"Umm… Mum wanted me to let you three know that lunch was ready and that you could take a break." Ginny shuffled unsurely, obviously sensing the tense atmosphere in the room.

"Thanks Ginny. We'll be right down." Harry responded with a strained but polite smile. Perhaps he'd get the opportunity to ask a few more questions of Danny over lunch. He'd barely touched his breakfast after all. He had to be hungry enough to venture out of the room he'd shut himself up in since morning by now.

As it turned out, Danny had not been hungry enough to venture out of his room for lunch. In fact, he hadn't ventured out of his room all day. Between Ron's complaining about the boy getting out of cleaning duty, Hermione's blatant concern, and the twins' overbearing curiosity, Harry was pretty well fed up with this new guest and the hype that surrounded him. Things had been strained enough with the Prophet's slandering of his name, his impending trial, and lets not forget the return of a certain dark lord that had him at the top of his kill list. He didn't have the mental fortitude to be dealing with this extra stress right now!

So, in search of answers to his questions, which would hopefully relieve some of that stress, he'd offered to take dinner up to the boy. Mrs. Weasly had assumed it was out of some kind of concern and had cooed her approval, repeatedly telling him what a sweet boy he was and fixing up a tray to take up almost immediately. He hadn't bothered to correct her. He had a feeling Sirius knew what he was up to, but the man hadn't said anything. It was possible he wanted him to find out what was going. Harry wished his godfather would just come out and tell him on his own, but he supposed it was one of those things he wasn't allowed to talk about. 'Well' Harry thought, 'I'll probably get better information from the source anyway.'

It was for this reason that Harry currently found himself standing outside Danny's door with a bowl of beef stew, a glass of butterbeer and a slab of bread on a small tray, having knocked several times already and received no answer. He was beginning to think the boy had snuck off or something. His eye was beginning to twitch in irritation as he knocked yet again, calling through the door as he did so. "You know, whether you let me in or not, I will be coming in."

He waited a few more minutes.

"Fine. Have it your way." He tried the door and found it locked. Not surprising. He pulled his wand and muttered a low 'alohomora', hearing the snick of the lock turning before stowing his wand once again in his pocket and turning the door knob.

The room he entered was only barely lit by the last few lights of day filtering in through the curtains, giving everything a dusky, shadowed hue. Despite the cool look to the room it felt stuffy, the smell of dust, mold, and cleaning agents thick on the air. Harry couldn't imagine spending an entire day shut up in this room. It was bad enough being confined to the house in general, but at least other sections of the house were a bit more open. Some rooms were even almost pleasant. This room, however, just felt depressing, but that might have just been due to the unmoving lump curled up on the bed.

"Danny-"

"Go away…" The lump's dull voice croaked hoarsely, interrupting whatever Harry had begun to say. The boy-who-lived was a bit put off by this but he was not about to be dissuaded.

"I brought your dinner." he informed blandly.

"Not hungry…" Came the same rough voice as the lump curled more tightly into itself. Yes, Harry decided, the depressing atmosphere definitely had more to do with the boy on the bed than anything else in the room. It couldn't have been more obvious that he'd been crying with a voice like that. Harry winced, wondering just what had reduced him to this state. Surely it hadn't been due to him and Ron from that morning. Ron hadn't been that rude… Had he? But then… Given how careful the adults had been with their wording that morning, perhaps the boy was just really fragile? Harry got the feeling that wasn't the case, though. He'd seemed shy, yes, but he'd had a hard look about him, especially once he'd gotten angry. Fragile people didn't lash out like he had. It was more likely that it had something to do with what sent him here if he and Hermione's guesses were anywhere near the truth.

With a sigh Harry shut the door behind him then walked over and set the tray down on a bedside table before moving to sit on a nearby chair. The piece of furniture squeaked quietly as he settled in it.

He slumped forward, propping his elbows on his knees before hesitantly speaking, figuring if he got any unpleasantness out of the way first then Danny would be more willing to talk. "Listen, about this morning-"

"I'm sorry." Danny interrupted him again, voice so quiet and honest it left Harry a bit floored. "I didn't mean to blow up on you and your friend."

"It's-.. I mean-…" Harry struggled "…I'm sorry too." He managed, the words feeling a bit hollow and entirely inadequate for some reason. "We could have handled the situation better."

There was a snort from the bed before Danny uncurled and turned over to face Harry, his head resting lazily on the pillow. His eyes seemed so dull as to almost be gray in the dim lighting. There was a pain in them that Harry was surprised he hadn't recognized earlier, perhaps having been too caught up in his curiosity and suspicions. His skin also seemed way too pale; like he was sick. His expression would have seemed blank if not for the slight pinch to his brow, looking vaguely accusatory.

"You didn't come in here to make nice… Did you." The way he said it, making it sound like more of a resigned statement rather than a question, made Harry suddenly feel unaccountably guilty; like he'd just been caught kicking puppies. Harry frowned, not liking the feeling at all but unwilling to do anything about it. He came in here for information and information was what he was going to get. There were more important things going on than some strange boy's feelings.

Steeling himself, he sat up a little straighter and built up his determination, pushing his guilt to the side for now. "I need to know what you're doing here. Only members of the order and sympathizers are allowed here. You're obviously neither. Why did Dumbledore bring you here all the way from America?" He didn't exactly expect a straight answer, but any response would open open the gate; give him something to work with, to interpret.

Danny's face twisted like he'd just eaten something nasty then he turned away, rolling back over onto his other side and leaving his back to Harry. He responded, voice laced with bitterness, "You don't need to know. You want to know. If you needed to know then someone would have told you."

"I deserve to know!" Harry growled, anger peeking through again and giving way to his real frustrations about the whole matter, "I have more right to know than anyone! Every year for the past four years I've had to face Voldemort! I was there when he rose again! If it weren't for me then no one would even know that he was back! And yet nobody will bloody well tell me anything!"

In a fit of his own anger, Danny sat up straight from his bed, turning to glare viscously at the boy who lived. "You want to know so bad?!" He snarled, "Fine then! I'm here because your jerkface dark lord sent his lackeys to my town, in my country, and slaughtered my friends and family! Murdered them in cold blood right in front of me!" Danny's voice cracked, almost choking on those last words as tears poured from his eyes for what obviously was not the first time since he'd arrived here. His rage was seemingly unable to stand under the weight of his grief as any anger drained away, leaving behind such soul wrenching sorrow that Harry didn't have the slightest clue on how to respond. He could only stare in muted shock and horror at what he'd just learned. "Mr. Lupin popped up out of nowhere and got me out of there. He apparently couldn't do the same for my sister. I don't even know if she's alive or not…" He trailed off brokenly. The silence stretched on uncomfortably for a few moments, Harry unsure of how to respond. He wasn't even sure why he was so shacked. He'd at least half expected something like this after all.

"Is your curiosity satisfied now?" The American asked with a tired, empty and shaking voice, face angled down, his shaggy black hair hanging over his shadowed eyes.

Harry flinched as though he'd been struck, that guilty feeling in his stomach multiplying tenfold and suddenly he realized why it was so hard to respond to the boy. What was one supposed to say in the face of such raw pain and misery? Green eyes finding his own feet he sought to give what little comfort he could. "I-I'm sorry. Voldemort killed my parents too…" He knew this pain. He knew how badly it hurt… And he'd just reopened an already fresh wound on this boy by forcing him to confess to it. No wonder the adults had been speaking so gently with him. He'd gone through something truly horrendous, and Ron had implied that he didn't even deserve to be here. Looking at it from this new perspective it might have even sounded like Ron had told Danny he should have died… Harry was feeling smaller and smaller by the second.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. I suppose I'll just join the club then, huh? Do we get jackets? Membership cards?" Danny replied, bitter sarcasm heavy in every word. Harry was about to get angry again before he saw the other boy's face flush with guilt at his own words.

"Sorry…" Danny muttered, reaching up to wipe at his wet eyes.

Harry deflated before he'd even had a chance to get worked up again. Though Danny's mood swings were a bit irritating, he could understand why he was going through them. If anyone could understand, it would be Harry. He sighed. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked…"

Danny glanced up at him, eyes searching, scrutinizing. Harry wasn't sure what he was looking for, nor could he tell if the other boy found it or not, but after a few seconds his expression relaxed a bit, his shoulders drooping from their tense position.

Danny sighed, lifting a hand to push through his thick black bangs before continuing to the back of his neck to rub nervously, further disheveling the mess of hair on his head. "It's… It's ok I guess…"

"Listen, losing people you love, that pain won't ever go away, but it gets easier to handle." Harry offered. It would have been hypocritical to suggest the other boy just pick himself back up after this. Harry himself was still reeling after Cedric's death after all, and that was months ago now. He hadn't even known Cedric all that well… Danny gave him an appreciative look for the words, so he supposed he'd said something right at least.

For a moment, the silence was almost comfortable, but then Danny's stomach gave a loud, demanding growl, reminding both boys that He hadn't had any more than a bite of eggs all day. A dark blush could just barely be made out on his face in the now rather dark room. Sometime during their conversation, the sun had finished setting without either of their notice, casting the room in shadow with the faintest of light coming from the moon outside.

"I suppose I'll leave you to eat then, shall I? I expect you know where the kitchen is to take your dishes down when you're done?" Harry stood from his seat, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Y-yeah…" Danny stammered, finally taking the food from the bedside stand and starting in on the stew. He seemed surprised that the food was still warm. Harry figured Mrs. Weasly must have cast a warming charm on it, predicting that Danny wouldn't eat right away.

Harry quickly strode to the door, pausing before he left. "I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow?" He asked, turning to look the other boy in the eye hopefully. Danny stared back, contemplating, before he hesitantly nodded. Harry found himself smiling at the boy before he turned and left the room.

-Groans- Why?... Why did I decide to do a chapter in Harry's point of view? ~ That was a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated it to be… I finished it though. Go me? ^^;

Send me a review if you've got the time! I'd love to know what you think! How was my characterization? I don't have the best handle on the HP characters, so I'd love some constructive input.

And to anyone who may think Danny is being too mopey, or too much of a cry baby… His loved ones died! It's only been a day so far! And he's still just a kid for crying out loud! Sorry, just figured I'd nip that one in the bud. Lol

Till next time!~