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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3. Potions and Dreams

“Before we begin today’s lesson,” said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, “I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your OWL, or suffer my... displeasure.”

 

                “After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me. I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions Class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye.” His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry glared back, but also feeling a sort of pleasure at the thought of giving up Potions after this year. He knew Potions wasn’t exactly his thing, but it was undeniably useful. He shook his head and tried to pay attention to what they would be doing in class today.

 

                “Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at the OWLs: the Draught of Peace, a ption to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing.” In front of him, Harry saw Hermoine sit up a little straighter, her expression one of utmost attention. “The ingredients and method,” Snape flicked his wand, “are on the blackboard,” words appeared in neat script on the blackboard, “you will find everything you need,” another flick of the wrist, “in the store cupboard”, said cupboard door sprang open, “you have an hour and a half... start.” Just as they had predicted, Snape had set them an extremely difficult potion. The ingredients had to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantity, the mixture stirred exactly the right number of times, the head of the flames on which it was simmering lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes and timing for everything else perfect for the potion to be brewed successfully.

 

                “A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion,” called Snape, with ten minutes left on the clock. Harry was sweating profusely, looking desperately around the dungeon. His own cauldron was issuing copious amounts of dark grey stea,; Ron’s was spitting green sparks. Only on the surface of Hermoine’s potion, obviously, was a shimmering mist of silver vapour visible. Harry glanced minutely at Zero’s place close to him and was puzzled to see no reaction whatsoever. It looked as if the boy hadn’t even bothered to try brewing the potion. His position put him relatively between him and Hermoine, and in the last instant a thought occured to him which made him kick himself mentally. He didn’t know any of the ingredient terms! At Harry’s cauldron Snape had stopped, looking down at it with a huge smirk on his face. Harry quickly reverted his attention back to his cauldron, the feeling of dread back again.

 

                “Potter, what is this supposed to be?” The Slytherins in the class all looked up eagerly; loving to hear Snape taunt Harry.

 

                “The Draught of Peace,” said Harry tensely. It didn’t help that just about the whole class had their eyes on him.

 

                “Tell me, Potter,” Snape’s voice a deceptively soft one, “can you read?” Draco Malfoy laughed none too softly.

 

“Yes, I can,” said Harry, grinding his teetch and clenching his fingers tightly around his wand.

 

“Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter.” Back at where Zero stood, he didn’t deny that he was quite impressed with the teacher. Not by his attitude, but by the fact that he was able to pinpoint exactly where Harry had made a mistake just from taking a look at his cauldron. Harry was squinting at the blackboard now.

 

“‘Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counter-clockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes then add two drops of syrup of hellebore.’” Harry felt his heart sink. He hadn’t added the syrup of hellebore and had instead proceeded straight to the next line of instructions after leaving it to simmer.

 

“Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?” Harry replied negative very quietly. “I beg your pardon?”

 

“No,” said Harry, louder this time. “I forgot the hellebore.”

 

“I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco.” The contents of his cauldron vanished, and he was left standing idiotically beside an empty cauldron. “I cannot come to understand, Mr Potter,” Snape spat the name out with fake politeness, “how you, who have been in this school for five years, cannot manage a simple potion such as this. When Mr Kiryuu there has produced an exemplary product of the task.” Harry’s eyes widened and he, along with the rest of the class, whipped his head around to stare at Zero. He seemed to be scowling instead of appreciating the praise, the look on his facing almost saying why me?

 

“Go on,” Snape’s voice sliced through Harry’s thoughts, “take a look.” He roughly nudged Harry towards Zero. Unsure, his first few steps were hesitant. Harry glanced at Zero’s cauldron and then at Hermoine’s; they looked like an exact replica of one another. “Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name and bring it up to my desk for testing,” said Snape, apparently satisfied with torturing Harry for today. “Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion making, to be handed in on Thursday.”

 

Whilst everyone else filled their flagons, Harry cleared away his things, seething. He stuffed his wand back into his bad and slumped down on his seat, watching everyone else hand Snape their filled flagons. When the bell finally rang, Harry was the first out the dungeon and had already started his lunch by the time Ron and Hermoine joined him. Zero was mysteriously missing. He didn’t bother asking where he was; but also felt slightly guilty thinking that maybe Zero thought he was angry with him because of what had happened earlier. Hermoine had started trying to console him. This merely fueling his anger, making him glower at his plate. When Ron made a side comment, they began their usual bickering.

 

“Oh, shut up, the pair of you,” said Harry, finally fed up. They both froze looking angry and offended. “Can’t you give it a rest? You’re always having a go at each other, it’s driving me mad.” He swiftly swung his bag back over his shoulder and left them there. He ended up spending the rest of lunch sitting alone beneath the trapdoor at the top of North Tower. Backpedaling slightly, Zero had exited with a rather peeved yet curious Hermoine and Ron.

 

“Zero you’re great with potions!” Exclaimed Hermoine, positively beaming.

 

“Yeah, your potion was just like ‘Ermoine’s,” Ron agreed, beginning to loosen up around Zero, “if I didn’t know better I’d think you’re an honour student too.” Zero almost laughed at the ludicrous idea.

 

“It’s kind of like reading a recipe book really,” he answered slowly, “just with odd ingredients.” He shrugged.

 

“You cook?” Hermoine asked, catching the hidden message in his answer. This time Zero smiled.

 

“Usually to escape the chairman’s ‘my style’ cooking.”

 

“Chairman?” Repeated Hermoine. “As in, your school principal?” She was stunned. The principal cooked for his students? Then again, Professor Dumbledore knew his students very well too.

 

“Yes,” Zero nodded, “chairman Cross.” His attention was soon stolen away by a very distinct scent assaulting his senses. He looked up. “It’s time for their lessons.” He stated, merely for Ron and Hermoine’s benefit. They both immediately followed his line of sight to see various night class students also wondering the corridors. Zero frowned. “Excuse me,” he turned to Ron and Hermoine, “I need to make sure they don’t cause any problems. You can go ahead. I can get directions to Divination.” The word rolled of his tongue oddly with a hint of a foreign tone. They nodded blindly, and watched him dash off. After taking a moment to recover from their curiosity, they continued to the great hall.

 

Due to Harry's choice of location, he was consequently the first to ascend the silver ladder leading to Sibyll Trelawney's classroom when the bell rang. After Potions, Divination was Harry's least favorite class, mainly due to Professor Trelawney's habit of predicting his death every few lessons. However right at the moment she was occupied with putting copies of battered leather-bound books on each of the little tables which littered her room.

 

                “Hermoine and me have stopped arguing,” stated Ron after emerging from the trapdoor and locating Harry, sitting down beside him.

 

                “Good,” grunted Harry.

 

                “But Hermoine says she thinks it would be nice if you stopped taking out your temper on us,” added Ron.

 

                “I’m not –”

 

                “Good-day,” interrupted Professor Trelawney in her usual misty, dreamy voice. “And welcome back to Divination. I am delighted to see that you have all returned to Hogwarts safely – as, of course, I knew you would, having been following your fortunes most carefully over the holidays. You will –” she halted in a speech and turned her head to the trapdoor. A knocking sound repeated once more before it was opened and in stepped in two very late students.

 

                “My apologies, professor,” a rumbling low voice purred from a browned haired boy in Slytherin uniform. “Kiryuu-kun and I were held up watching over the transition of the night class students into their classes.” Professor Trelawney gawked at the rather confident boy.

 

                “N-no worries, dear boy, now please, do take a se—” her sentence was cut short with a gasp. Her body convulsed and her eyes glazed over, unseeing. She stumbled around until her hand managed a firm grip on her table, where she leaned heavily against it and her head turned upwards, staring off into the beyond, ragged breaths panting loudly before she opened her mouth once more.

 

                “Death. Eternal darkness. He who has been born with that of the cursed blood hath committed the gravest of sin. He hath received new strength in return of summoning a sinister future. Nothing but darkness lies ahead. Darkness until the end of time. The blood which hath been passed down will bring destruction. When the moon hides, the monster will be unleashed. Trespassers… on Hogwarts… holy ground…”

 

Another long and loud intake of breath was taken, Professor Trelawney’s frame shuddering violently. Her eyes blinked rapidly as if attempting to rid itself of some dust before it cleared once again and she looked innocently back at the two boys. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I say something?” Zero let out a bark of laughter.

 

                “Ii ne (she’s good, huh)?” Noted Zero. Kaname’s lips were pulled into a lopsided smirk of amusement.

 

                “So, totemo subarashi (yes, very impressive),” agreed Kaname. “Kedo omoshiroi (but it’s interesting)…”

 

                “Naniga (what is)?” Kaname turned his head to look Zero directly in the eye, effectively wiping off all previous emotion on the hunter’s face when faced with his direct gaze. He could see the amusement dancing in Kaname’s eyes and a frown formed on his face in confusion.

 

                “She just said the same thing Shizuka-san said to me,” Kaname said in a voice that sounded like he was recalling a fond memory, “on that night.” Zero’s eyes widened in alarm. He opened his mouth to say something before the pureblood cut him off. “Ma, wasureru (just forget about it),” he had turned his head and begun walking towards the class, looking for a seat. “Samonakereba, ore o anta o suru (or else, I’ll make you),” he finished with a deceptively polite smile to the teacher. Zero growled lowly.

 

                “Dozo tameshite kudasai (go ahead and try it),” Zero challenged with a hiss. He was halted however when Kaname had found them a seat and promptly pulled him down to sit next to him. He smiled to Professor Trelawney and nodded, as if giving her permission to start the class. She cleared her throat for a moment before returning to what she had been saying before all that.

 

                “You will find on your tables copies of The Dream Oracle, by Inigo Imago. Dream interpretation is a most important means of divining the future and may very probably be tested in your OWL. Not that I believe examination results are of importance when it comes to the sacred art of divination. If you have the Seeing Eye, grades matter very little. However, the Headmaster likes you to sit the examination so…” she trailed off.

 

“Turn, please,” she suddenly changed her subject back to the matter at hand, “to the introduction and read what Imago has to say on dream interpretation. Then, divide into pairs. Use the Dream Oracle to interpret each other’s most recent dreams.” By the time they finished reading the introduction, they barely had ten minutes left for dream interpretation. Harry and Ron looked at each other glumly. Next to them, Dean had paired up with Neville who was currently embarked on a long explanation of a nightmare involving a pair of giant scissors wearing his grandmother’s best hat.

 

                “I never remember my dreams,” said Ron, “you say one.”

 

                “You must remember one of them,” said Harry impatiently. He was quite aware of what his regular nightmare meant and didn’t need Ron, Professor Trelawney, nor the stupid Dream Oracle to tell him.

 

                “Well I dreamt I was playing Quidditch the other night,” said Ron, “What d’you reckon that means?”

 

                “Probably that you’re going to be eaten by a giant marshmallow or something,” replied Harry dully turning the pages without interest. Secretly, he was trying his best to listen over the noise of the class what a specific pair was saying.

 

                “Any nightmares you would like to share, Kiryuu-kun?” That smooth voice asked fluently in English, the tone enough to portray the glint of amusement in Kaname’s eyes. Zero scowled.

 

                “No,” he barked out harshly.

 

                “No?” The contrast between Zero’s angry outburst and Kaname’s repeat of the word was like listening to an emotional rollercoaster. Kaname leaned in, “don’t lie to me, Zero, I know you saw it.” Zero’s fingers scraped harshly across the table slowly as he resisted the urge to pull out the Bloody Rose in class. His head was hung down, watching his fingers before he slowly looked up, defiance in his eyes. A cruel smirk pulled at his lips.

 

                “Are you –” his voice was drowned by the sound of the bells, followed by noisy scraping of chairs against the wooden floors and students hastily made their way out eagerly. He didn’t seem annoyed at being interrupted but instead looked up and took in what was happening calmly, then began to gather his belongings likewise. Kaname raised a brow, clearly bemused and his curiousity piqued at having been unable to finish their conversation.

 

                “Zero are you coming?” called out Harry, he pretended he hadn’t been eavesdropping on their conversation and instead opted to ask if Zero was going to come with them to the next class or not.

 

                “Yeah, wait up,” replied Zero, Harry was still struck by how easily the language seemed to come from all the exchange students. They were even able to speak casually and not overly polite as most people who didn’t speak the language tended to be.

 

                “May I join you?” now this guy was definitely way polite, but not in the way that meant he didn’t know the language. He sounded like he knew the language quite well actually, navigating it with ease, thought Harry. He nodded minutely and urged Ron to move along. Ron was starting to feel somewhat fidgety at having so much interaction with the… exchange students. He loosened up soon enough though.

 

                “D’you realize how much homework we’ve got already? Binns set us a foot-and-a-half-long essay on giant wars, Snape a foot on the use of moonstones, and now we’ve got a month’s dream diary from Trelawney! That Umbridge woman better not give us any…”

 

When they entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom they found Professor Umbridge already seated at the teacher’s desk, donning the fluffy pink cardigan from the night before and a black velvet boy on top of her head. The class was quiet as it entered the room; Professor Umbridge was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew how strict she would be. As the final students took their seats, she opened her mouth.

 

“Good afternoon, children.”

 

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