Exchange Students

Vampire Knight x Harry Potter (Crossover Fanfic). Set in Order of Phoenix. Good relations between Cross Academy and Hogwarts lead to an exchange program offered. 10 students go to Hogwarts for a year. Based on plump-york's A Bloody Hogwarts Year. VKs are split into various houses. Read to find out more ; !Slow Updates!

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8. Detention

At five to five Harry bade the other two goodbye and set off for Umbridge’s office on the third floor. When he knocked on the door she called, “Come in,” in a sugary voice. He entered cautiously, looking around. He had known this office under three of its previous occupants.

 

When Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here, it had been plastered in beaming portraits of himself. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came in. In the “imposter-Moody”’s days it had been packed with various instruments and artifacts for the detection of wrong doing and concealment. Now, however, it looked totally unrecognizable. The surfaces were draped in lacy covers and clothes. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck.

 

                “Good evening, Mr Potter.” Harry’s attention was snapped from staring at the plates to Professor Umbridge. He started and looked around. He hadn’t been able to notice her at first because she was wearing a set of robes that blended too well with both the tablecloth and desk behind her.

 

                “Evening, Professor Umbridge,” Harry said stiffly.

 

                “Well sit down,” she pointed towards a small table draped in lace, a straight-backed chair neatly pushed against it. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for him. Shifting his weight on one foot to another, Harry also caught a glimpse of a rather large book on another table beside it, the chair on the opposite side.

 

                “Er,” Harry started, without moving. “Professor Umbridge. Um - before we start, I.. I wanted to as you a.. favour.” Her bulging eyes narrowed somewhat suspiciously.

 

                “Oh, yes?”

 

                “Well I’m.. I’m in the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you see. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o’clock on Friday and I was wondering.. whether I could skip detention that night and do it.. do it another night.. instead...” he trailed off rather pathetically. He knew long before that that it was a futile attempt.

 

                “Oh, no, Umbridge smiled widely; as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. “Oh, no, no, no. This is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one’s convenience. No, you will come here at five o’clock tomorrow, and the next day, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you.” Harry felt the blood surge to his head and could hear it thumping in his ears.

 

So he told ‘evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories’, did he? She was watching him with her head tilted to one side, still smiling that smile, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking and was waiting to see whether he would start shouting again. With massive effort, Harry looked away from her, dropped his schoolbag beside the straight-backed chair and sat down. He eyed the book and raised a brow at the title of the book printed on the spine where he could see. Magical History through the Ages. Did she intend to make him endure some sort of dreary detention and make him read all about knowing your place and all that? Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and sigh loudly.

 

                “There,” Umbridge’s oh-so-sweet voice cut into him once again, “we’re getting better at controlling our temper already, aren’t we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr Potter. No, not with your quill,” she added as Harry had made a move to open his bag. “You’re going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are.” He handed him a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. “I want you to write, I must not tell lies,” she told him softly.

 

                “How many times?” Harry asked, with quite a creditable imitation of politeness.

 

                “Oh, as long as it takes for the message to.. sink in,” said Umbridge. She opened her mouth again, probably to tell him to begin, when she was interrupted by a loud knocking on the door. Her face creased into a frown momentarily before she said, “come in.” The door swung open, quite unlike Harry’s tentative slow opening of it earlier, and it revealed the form of Zero standing behind it. Harry’s eyes widened, surprised. He had almost forgot all about Zero also having detention. Zero was wearing the Gryffindor uniform in his messy style and he adorned an irritated expression. “You’re late, Mr Kiryuu.” Harry’s head snapped up to Umbridge, who had a menacing look on her face that seemed to Harry like she was glad Zero decided to show up.

 

                “I apologize, I was feeling unwell today,” Zero said, raising brows from both Harry and Umbridge at the formal, polite tone he had adopted. It seemed Umbridge didn’t feel like arguing at the moment as she carried on.

 

                “Well no matter, we were just getting started anyway. Weren’t we, Mr Potter?” she inclined her head to Harry, who looked from her to Zero, clueless, before nodding silently. “Take a seat, Mr Kiryuu,” and she motioned to the chair diagonally opposite to the right of Harry, the one which had the book on the table. Oh, so that was for Zero? Harry thought, before his brows came together, but why would she want him to read it? Zero moved soundlessly to the seat, Harry noticing how silent he moved, it disturbed him somehow. “I would like you to do a little bit of reading for me, Mr Kiryuu,” Zero nodded as he slowly reached out to take the book. “Off you go, boys.” She moved over to her desk, sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. Harry’s eyes followed her then he glanced to Zero, who was already poring over the book with a rather unattentive look in his eyes. He raised the sharp black quill he was given, and then realized something was missing.

 

                “You haven’t given me any ink,” he noted aloud, turning his head to Professor Umbridge. She looked up, hardly surprised.

 

              “Oh, you won’t be needing any ink,” she replied in that sickly sweet voice, with the tiniest suggestion of a laugh in it. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as he placed the point of the quill on the paper curiously and began to write: I must not tell lies. Almost instantly he let out a gasp of pain. His mind had also registered somewhat dully that the words on the parchment had appeared to be in shining red ink. At the same time, Harry moved to cradle is right hand in his left, pain searing through his veins, as he turned it over to examine it. Words had appeared on the back on his hand, cut right into his skin as though written with a scalpel - yet as he stared at it, the skin healed over, leaving it a slightly red bruise that looked days old. Harry looked around at Umbridge and saw her watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched into a smile.

 

                “Yes?” She said, smile never fading.

 

                “Nothing,” Harry said quietly. He turned to look back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, and wrote I must not tell lies, and just as he began to feel the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time as the words began to cut into his skin; his mind caught up with what was happening and his head jerked up to Zero’s direction. Zero’s position hadn’t changed. But Harry’s sharp eyes noted that the grip his hand had on the book had his knuckles turning white, his jaw was set, and his eyes had widened ever-so-slightly. Shit! Could he smell the blood? Harry thought, but the blood hadn’t broken the skin. He then caught, out of his peripheral vision, Professor Umbridge’s smile had widened, the glint in her eye malicious. His eyes focused back on Zero. Their eyes met, and for some reason unknown, Harry felt a pang of guilt; as though what was happening was his fault.

 

Zero’s eyes had returned to their usual barely-contained-glaring. But it sent a clear message to Harry. He was determined to get through this, and Harry’d be damned if he didn’t honour that. And on it went. Again and again Harry wrote out the words on the parchment in what he soon came to realize was not ink, but his own blood. That explained why Zero was affected. Again and again, the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed, and cut once again the next time he wrote the words. As time passed he soon became curious as to the effect it would have on vampires. They hadn’t really studied much about them in school, so Harry wondered what of legends were true. Harry risked a flicker of his eyes back up at Zero. When he looked closely enough, he saw Zero trembling ever-so-slightly. His fingers were gripping the book so tightly that it looked like he was going to puncture a hole into the pages. He studied Zero’s face for any other reactions and his eyes widened as he saw an abnormality.

 

Red. Blood red colouring had begun to seep into Zero’s mysteriously coloured eyes. It wasn’t like the way blood-shot eyes would look like. It looked like a red liquid, spreading out as it was soaked up by a piece of parchment. Zero shifted his arm uncomfortably, ragged breaths escaped parted lips as Zero fought with the strength he had used to fight the urge for years.

 

Darkness fell outside Umbridge’s window. Harry did not ask when he would be allowed to stop, but as time ticked by, he was growing more and more anxious of Zero’s condition. However, he knew she was watching them both for signs of weakness and defeat, and neither had any intentions of showing any.

 

                “Come here, Harry,” her voice startled them both, after what seemed like hours. He stood up in a bit of a rush, his hand stinging painfully. When he glanced down at it he saw that the cut had healed, obviously, but his skin was red raw. “Hand,” she said rather uninterestedly. He extended it and she took it in her own. Harry repressed a shudder as her thick, stubby fingers made contact with his own. “Tut, tut, I don’t seem to have made much of an impression yet,” she said, smiling that revolting smile, “Well, we’ll just have to try again tomorrow evening now, won’t we? You may go now.” Harry left her office after packing up hastily. He glanced at Zero worriedly before she called him up.

 

It was surely past midnight, and the school was quite deserted. Harry had intended to wait just outside the door, to make sure Zero was alright, but he heard the softest of footsteps along the corridor, then, and he quickly slipped along the walls and hid behind a corner opposite the door that allowed him to still be able to make sure Zero was out safely. Sure enough, the door swung open and Zero walked out briskly. He turned his head to check his surroundings, and then broke into a run. Harry was taken aback, and his body working on instinct alone, took off after him before he could think about it. He kept himself a safe distance away, and thankfully too as Zero abruptly came to a halt and he had enough of a distance between them to react and stop before he was noticed.

 

Zero’s shoulder hit a wall, then his back, and his feet gave way under him and he slid down the wall unceremoniously. He heard footsteps coming towards him but he didn’t make any move. He already knew who it was. A snarl ripped from his throat as his senses assaulted him more and more as the sound of the steps grew louder. He had his eyes scrunched closed, palms digging into his eyelids. Then, clear as day, the footsteps ceased right before him. Reluctantly, he took his hands away and his eyes dragged upwards to look into a calm face.

 

                “Konban wa (good evening), Kiryuu-kun.”

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