Oneshot. Will not be continued unless there's some huger-than-usual response, then I might.

In honor of all those celebrating this year, as there seems to be more of you than normal. Congrats to you all!

Endings and Beginnings
A Danny Phantom FanFic by Cordria

I phased through the roof of the gymnasium and settled into a crouch into the rafters, a Fenton Thermos pressing against my hip. The place was packed – as I figured it was going to be – and I scanned the mass of chairs that littered the floor. Everyone was dressed in black, a somber atmosphere filled the huge room, and most people were quietly focused on the speaker.

"Damnit," I whispered with a scowl. "I miss everything."

Mr. Lancer, the new principal of Casper High, was gripping the podium, the squeaky speakers amplifying his voice. "…all year. This class was home to some of the best and the brightest Casper High has ever seen along with many superior athletes. We are losing you, class of 2010, and we will not be better because of it."

My own high school graduation and where was I? Shaking off Skulker and being late – as per usual for me – and now hiding in the shadows. Ghosts never failed to ruin the highlights of my life.

Ripping my eyes away from Lancer, I studied the students sitting nervously in their chairs. With those graduation caps, everyone was identical from up here. I found my empty seat and counted over three seats, locating the person I assumed was Tucker. The slight glow of some electronic something in his lap seemed to prove me right. Sam, though, was impossible to find.

My parents were easier to locate. Dad was like a bright orange beacon, a camcorder in his hands and an excited grin on his face. Mom was sitting next to him with a pile of black material in her lap and an annoyed look to her. There was the robe and cap I was supposed to be wearing.

"Great," I hissed. How was I supposed to sneak over and get it? And where was Jazz? She was supposed to be here.

"And with that, I'll turn this over to your class Valedictorian, Samantha Manson."

"What?" My head jerked up to the stage and I watched with wide eyes as Sam Manson – my Sam – stood up from a chair and walked up to the podium. "When did she…?"

Mouth dropping open more and more as Sam calmly unfolded a speech and moved the microphone to the right level, I couldn't quite grasp what was going on. Sam would have told me if she was giving the graduation speech – wouldn't she? Why would she keep that a secret from me?

Judging from the whispers coming from my classmates, the announcement of the class Valedictorian came as a surprise to a whole lot of people. Sam was smart, but apparently nobody had suspected her to be the first in our class.

"'You have brains in your head, you have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own and you know what you know. You're the guy who'll decide where you go.'" Sam looked out over her class and I half-imagined that her eyes caught on my empty chair. "Dr. Seuss wrote that in a little kids' book decades ago, but it applies to all of us today. We've been given the knowledge we need and every opportunity in the world. Now it's our chance to pick a path a follow it to the rest of our lives."

I wrapped one of my hands around the supports and I settled onto the rafter, my feet dangling into space. Something in the back of my head was bugging me to hurry up and figure out how to get to my seat, but I was entranced by Sam calmly addressing the entire senior class. I had to watch this.

"I've been talking to a lot of people over the past few months – not that they knew I was working on this speech – and you'd be surprised what kind of young adults will be soon be crossing this stage. One of them has a full scholarship to a veterinary college already. Another has been accepted into the military. Yet another plans on heading into a design program and becoming a famous fashionista. I want to share some of their stories with you so you know exactly who it is Amity Park is losing.

"Dash Baxter-" Sam paused as the class cheered, whistled, and clapped for a moment. In the front row, the tall person I figured was Dash was sliding down in his seat. "Dash is really well known as an athlete. Two months ago, Dash was accepted into the air force and will be headed off to basic training in August. Dash is strong, determined, and perfect for the military – he'll make it through training with flying colors. Dash Baxter will be out there, saving our country and fighting for freedom."

I couldn't help the small smile as another round of clapping filled the auditorium drowned out whatever Sam said next. Of course she'd start with someone popular like Dash; now she had everyone's attention.

As the noise drifted back into silence, I couldn't help sneaking a glance towards Dash. Would the bully of Amity Park really be a hero in a few months? That was hard for me to imagine.

"When we're talking about someone who can overcome adversity, the person everyone has to mention is Valerie Grey. Her mother died when she was in middle school and just as she started to pick up the pieces of her life a year later, everything fell apart again. She lost her home, her friends, her future… just about everything." A short stab of guilt sliced through my heart at the memory. "It threw her at first, but then her indomitable spirit jumped into play. She found new friends, a job, started saving for college, and bounced back stronger than ever. Sometimes from the shadows and not always on the side of what was popular, Valerie fought for what she believed in. She plans on attending Amity Park Community College next year in their criminal justice program, then transferring to a larger college and becoming a lawyer."

I sat there, spellbound, as Sam wove her way through the stories of some of our classmates. She mentioned how Star got her scholarship, how Paulina had been accepted into a great fashion program in California, how Tucker planned on building his own technology business from the ground up, how Kwan was getting into his parents' business, and how many of our classmates were set to do something great.

She brushed a piece of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear, and I felt a reflexive smile drift onto my face. Sam was so beautiful and strong, standing up there.

"One last story for you, before I let you all graduate. There is one person in our class who is a true hero already, who has fought for you and suffered for you and made your lives better than you can imagine. This person has given up just about everything to do what was right without ever once asking for something in return. This person is a member of our class and truly exemplifies everything our class stands for. Strength. Integrity. Loyalty. Perseverance. And doing all of this from the shadows, without any accolades. This person was a real asset of our class and we'll never know everything that this person did for us, but we will know what we lost."

I was staring at her, my heart beating loudly in my chest. She was talking about me, I was sure of it, but she wouldn't tell everyone who I was… would she? As always, I felt that strange turmoil in my chest when I thought about people knowing exactly what I'd been through the past four years. The excitement of them learning about it versus the terror of them actually knowing.

Sam was quiet, that small smile on her face, looking out over the crowd. Everyone was silent, waiting for her to say who it was. She chuckled a little, then shook her head. "And without further ado, let's graduate!"

There was a moment of confused silence, then my classmates seemed to catch on to the fact that she wasn't going to tell a name. I felt a flash of relief and a moment of chagrin at thinking that she would tell them without asking me first. The audience laughed and cheered as Sam made her way off the stage to her seat and Mr. Lancer retook the podium.

"Thank you, Ms. Manson. Shall we get started?" He picked up the first diploma on the table as the new vice principal took his place at the microphone to call out names. That familiar graduation tune started to fill the gym, coming from the small section of junior band members sitting beside the stage.

"Robert Ackerman."

I watched Bobby nervously stand up and head up to the front before it suddenly hit me that we were graduating. And where was I? Still sitting stupidly in the rafters.

"Betty Artson."

Invisibility was just a flicker of a thought away and I slipped off the ceiling supports. I dropped through the air to hover over Sam still settling into her seat and straightening her clothes. Reaching out, I adjusted her cap for her.

She jerked a little and looked up in surprise, then snorted out a laugh and rolled her eyes. "Hurry up," she whispered to me.

"I know," said the kid sitting next to her. "I'm so nervous I wish this were over."

Sam smiled slightly and nodded. She shot one last glance up into the air before turning her attention back to the front.

"Ashley Baker."

I made my way to an empty restroom to stash the Skulker-filled Thermos. When I appeared in the hallway, I was seemingly as human as the rest of my classmates. Yanking at the collar of the jacket my mom had insisted I wore, I hurried through the doors into the gymnasium and snuck towards where I'd seen my parents sitting.

"Star Easton."

Mom caught sight of me when I was still a few rows away, her eyes narrowing in a combination of fury and reassignment. "You'll be late for your own funeral some day, kiddo," she said as she handed over the cap and gown. Dad noticed I had finally arrived and turned the camcorder in my direction with a smile.

"I love you too," I replied with a smile, pulling the gown over my jacket.

"Where were you?"

"David Erleigh."

It was the loaded question she'd been asking a lot recently. "I got stuck in the bathroom," I muttered, refusing to look up and meet her eyes. I knew it was a lie, she knew it was a lie, and the only person either of us were fooling by this point was Dad. She didn't know the truth yet – she might never know the complete answer – but she knew what the truth wasn't.

She sighed. "Get going; you're going to miss your name being called."

"Go get 'em Danno!" Dad cheered, jiggling the camera so much I figured anyone required to watch the replay later would get motion sickness.

I rolled my eyes and worked my way down the steps, across the floor to where the chairs full of students were waiting, and slunk to my seat.

"Dude," Tucker said, leaning forwards with an arched eyebrow, "you made it." He held a fist out in front of the people sitting between us.

"Carla Fanwright."

I tapped his fist and scowled as the girl sitting next to me vanished. "Don't sound so surprised."

"Sam's going to kill you for missing her speech. She's been working on it for months."

"I heard it," I said, taking a deep breath and straightening my cap. "You ready for this?"

"Daniel Fenton."

If Tucker answered my question, I never heard him. I pushed myself to my feet and followed Carla up towards the front of the room. Hesitating a moment as the overweight principal shook the hand of the girl before me, I took one last look around as a high school student. This was big. Big-big. I was graduating.

The five steps up to the stage where Mr. Lancer was holding onto my diploma looked like skyscrapers. Climbing them had my heart beating in a way it hadn't in a long time, my palms wet and nervousness clawing at me. Here I was, the great ghost fighter and hero and survivor of the antics of Vlad Masters, and I was definitely feeling the sharp fingers of terror in my mind because of five little steps.

It was stupid to a new degree, but my brain was conveniently ignoring that fact.

"Congratulations, Mr. Fenton," Mr. Lancer said, grabbing my hand and shaking it.

At some point, I remembered to shake his hand back rather than let my arm move around limply. "Thanks," I said with an uneasy smile.

"Of all the people in this room, you deserve this," he said softly. "And here I was thinking you weren't even going to be here."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world," I replied honestly, accepting the diploma he pushed into my hands without even glancing at it. I turned to leave, but something felt off about the thing in my hand. I looked down at it and hesitated. "Mr. Lancer, you gave me two."

"I know," he said, grabbing the next one and gesturing for the next person to climb the steps.

"But…"

"Go sit down, Mr. Fenton."

I'd heard that tone in his voice before – and I figured I probably wouldn't ever again – so I just nodded and jumped off the edge of the stage. The junior standing by the steps handing out a rose to each graduate sent me a furious look and walked over to hand me the flower.

"Tucker Foley."

Passing my best friend on the way, I sent him a grin and gave him a high-five before settling into my seat to watch Tucker saunter happily across the stage and accept his diploma, his quick protest about not being able to get his diploma electronically filtering over the audience.

It wasn't until Tucker had his rose and was on his way back that I thought to look down at my diploma. Diplomas. Why had Lancer given me two?

I opened up the top one, scanning it quietly. There was my name, written in calligraphy, and Lancer's signature scrawled across the bottom. A thrill shot through me at seeing my name. It was official: I had graduated. I'd made it!

Closing it a little reluctantly, I slid it under the second one and opened it, curious.

"Casper High School," it read, the school's logo emblazoned under the name. "This certifies that Daniel Phantom has…"

I froze, my hands moving on their own to slowly close the diploma, my mind completely empty for a long few seconds.

"You look like you're going to be sick," Tucker whispered as he pushed past me to settle back into his seat, diploma in hand. "You okay?"

I nodded, or at least I think I nodded, but whatever I did, Tucker leaned back in his chair to enjoy the rest of the graduation and left me to my own thoughts. Not that I really had any – my eyes looked up to find the teacher who had driven me crazy so many times and I just stared at him blankly.

How the…

What the…

When did…

How did…

Why didn't he…

"Amy Zicherson."

I blinked suddenly, shaking myself out of the dazed stupor I'd found myself in. The short girl with the glasses walked past my row, the last kid in our class to receive her diploma, and I watched her nervously move across the stage and shake the principal's hand. Somewhere in my head, I'm sure I realized at that point that I'd missed seeing Sam's graduation, but it didn't register yet.

"Congratulations to everyone." Mr. Lancer's voice rang out over the gymnasium, having commandeered the microphone from the stumpy vice-principal. "I know how hard you've worked over the years and you're ready for whatever the world will throw at you."

I almost thought he looked right at me when he said that.

"I expect letters from each and every one of you telling me about how much you've made of your life after high school. You're poised to rule the world and I, for one, am sure that the world will be much better place because of it. We'll miss you all."

There was a moment of silence as Mr. Lancer looked down at his podium. When he looked up again, his eyes were shining and he had an odd smile on his face. "If the graduates would please stand." He waited for the noise and the shuffling of people to stop before continuing. "Please move your tassels."

I reached up with everyone else, feeling the silken threads running through my fingers as I moved the orange and black tassel to the other side of my cap in that age-old ritual. It brushed against my face as it settled into place.

"People of Amity Park, may I present to you the Class of 2010!"

The cheering and clapping that broke out nearly drowned out the sound of the band striking up whatever song the band director had on tap next. Tucker wormed past the people and grabbed me into a rough hug before letting go to jump onto a chair and yell in triumph.

Now would be the perfect time for a ghost to attack.

As I made my way over to Sam with the intent to smother her with a congratulatory hug, I couldn't keep that thought from surfacing in my brain. My eyes quickly scanned the gymnasium, but there was nothing except my own paranoia. At least not that I could see…

"Danny!" I jerked my mind out of its suspicious circlings when Sam pushed her way within reach of me and punched my shoulder. "You missed my speech!"

"I heard your speech," I argued back, speaking loudly to be heard over the cheering graduates. "On behalf of the entire hero community, I have to say that you calling Dash hero-material was a bit low. I did like the ending though."

The smile that lit her face was truly beautiful. It made her eyes sparkle and it brought her whole body to life. "I'm glad you made it," she said, throwing her arms around my shoulders and hugging tightly.

She was so soft, so warm, and so wonderful that I could have stayed like that forever, my arms wrapped around her and my nose in her hair. "You have no idea how glad I am too," I whispered.

It wasn't to last, however. Dad made his way through the crowd, parting them like a bowling ball going through a hapless set of pins. "Danny!" he shouted, waving the video camera around wildly. "Over here! I need to get a picture!"

"Come on," Sam said, untangling herself from me and dragging me towards my parents. I sighed and followed, watching my Mom and Jazz appear almost like magic from behind my father's bulk. "I need a picture of you and me – and you know that my parents'll refuse to take it."

"Congrats, little brother," Jazz said with a smile, giving me a quick hug.

"Where were you sitting?" I managed to ask before Dad pulled me away and deposited me near a wall next to Sam.

She smiled. "A couple of rows up. We got here a bit late and there weren't many seats left. I saw everything though."

"Smile!" Dad commanded, handing the video camera to Jazz and grabbing a smaller camera out of one of his pockets.

"Who gave your dad camera duty?" Sam asked softly. "He's always a bit… overzealous."

"No idea," I muttered back. "Now smile before he gets out some invention to make you smile."

The camera clicked and I blinked spots out of my eyes as Dad examined the picture on the small screen with narrowed eyes. Tucker suddenly appeared next to me and threw an arm around my shoulders. "We need another picture!" he chirped.

Dad seemed to agree, since the camera was up to his eye again. I was about to smile when I felt a tugging at my hands. Looking down, I saw my mom pulling my diploma out of my hands. "I'll hold onto it for you," she said.

I nodded and smiled, watching out of the corner of my eye as she open my diploma…

Diplomas…

Crap.

The camera flashed.

"Daniel. James. Fenton. Explain this, now."