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!


4. Umbridge

 “Wands away and quills out, please.” The class exchanged gloomy looks. The words “wands away” had never yet been folowed by a lesson they had found interesting. Harry shoved his wand back inside his bag and pulled out a quill, ink and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her wand, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appearing at once:


Defense Against the Dark Arts a Return to Basic Principles


                “Now, your teaching in this subject has been disturbingly... uneven,” stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped in front of her “The constant changing of teachers has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are not to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following please.” She rapped the blackboard again and the initial message was replaced by:


Course Aims:

Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.


For a couple of minutes the room was silent save for the sound of scratching quills on parchment. Soon when most of the class had managed to copy down the words, Professor Umbridge asked, “has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?” A dull murmur ran throughout the class. “I think we’ll try that again,” said Professor Umbridge. “When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, ‘Yes, Professor Umbridge’, or ‘No, Professor Umbridge’. So: has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?”


                “Yes, Professor Umbridge,” rang out through the room. Professor Umbridge nodded, pleased.


                “Good, I should like you to turn to page five and read ‘Chapter One, Basics for Beginners’. There will be no need to talk.” She then moved to settle herself in the chair behind the teacher’s desk, observing them closely; her eyes running across the length of the room. “Hold it.” All heads were raised immediately to look from Professor Umbridge, following her line of sight.


When Harry, Ron, Zero and Kaname had entered the room, Kaname had swiftly excused him and Zero to drag him towards other exchange students that were in their class. Since Gryffindor and Slytherin shared their Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, Silver and Seiren were both present in the class. Kaname and Seiren had taken seats next to each other on the table beside Harry, Ron and Hermoine’s. Silver and Zero had taken seats on the table behind them.


                “What do you think you’re doing?” Professor Umbridge’s shrill voice asked, her gaze full of contempt set in their direction. Silver and Zero looked at each other and Seiren looked to Kaname for instructions. Kaname took his time opening the provided textbook to the page instructed before he looked up with an innocent expression on his face.


                “Why, just following your instructions, Professor.” Umbridge let out an odd sound that Harry translated as a sort of cross between a giggle and a snort.


                “Defense Against the Dark Arts is meant for budding young witches and wizards,” she emphasized, taking out her wand, “those with the gift of magic. As you are neither, I see no need for you to be undertaking this class,” a flick of her wrist and the four books were levitated towards her. “Instead, I shall assign you some.. history reading material maybe. After all, your purpose here is to learn about our culture, is it not? It is not to become a part of us,” she scoffed as if offended by the very idea.


                “I beg to differ, Professor,” Kaname finally spoke up. “If you already understand that, without having been born of magical descent nor blood, we are unable to follow this class practically anyway, what harm would there be in allowing us to study your materials?” The words came so naturally to him, not missing a single beat. Umbridge bridled.


                “I don’t mean to be frank but, you should understand that from our point of view,” her deliberate use of inclusive language meaning to cause him to feel like a pariah, “you people are one of reasons ‘Defense Against the Dark Arts’ is taught!” As if to further support her cause and also sound highly professional, she continued to add, “Page Four-hundred-and-ninety-two, Chapter Sixteen, Vampires.” Instead of taking the offensive, she was infuriated even more when she saw Kaname smile softly and bow his head in thought. Having paid most of her attention to him, she was quite startled when a loud bang resounded in the silence and whipped her head around to see the boy in the table behind him having stood up from his seat.


                “I’ve already mentioned,” the silver-haired boy begun to say, his voice quivering with barely contained irritation, “that your curriculum is hardly credible. This is also the reason, as the Headmaster has already pointed out, that the Association assigned hunters to watch over the bloodsuckers.” He didn’t mean to be rude, but in his irritation he had accidently slipped back into his more crude way of speech. The rest of the class however, was quite shocked to hear an exchange student refer to themselves as bloodsuckers. Umbridge let out another scoff.


                “Oh I know all about that,” she said slowly, unknown confidence showing in her tone, “don’t think I am not aware of who, or what, you are, Mr Kiryuu.” She smiled a sickly sweet smile as Zero’s eyes widened. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Kaname’s amused expression had morphed into a serious one. “The Ministry of Magic have a very strong relationship with the Association; and I’ve heard all about you. An embarrassment, that’s what you are.” She was clearly enjoying and drinking in the anger coming from the hunter. “But you’re tamed, aren’t you?” An evil smirk was creeping up onto her lips now, “who’s your master?”


                “Professor,” Umbridge was effectively cut off and she turned her head to the person in question rather annoyed, having spoilt her fun. It was Kaname. “I do believe that you were not only about to violate student privacy policies but also the confidentiality that was promised to us regarding this exchange program,” he stated as if commenting on foul weather. She was about to retort when someone else cut in.


                “Professor,” Umbridge turned to see a girl with her hand in the air, a determined expression set on her face.


                “Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” she asked, sweetly resuming the role of a caring teacher once more.


                “Not about the chapter, no,” said Hermoine. Aside, Umbridge could see in the corner of her eye Kaname swiftly motioning for Zero to take a seat, which he did, rather reluctantly, and the girl next to him muttering soothing words, attempting to calm him down.


                “Well, we’re reading right now,” smiled Professor Umbridge, somewhat peeved by the girl’s interruption. She was so close! “If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.”


                “I’ve got a query about your course aims.” Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.


              “And your name is?” She asked. Did all the students in this god-forsaken school talk back to their superiors like this?


                “Hermoine Granger.”


                “Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them carefully.”


                “Well I don’t think so,” Hermoine answered bluntly. “There’s nothing written there about using defensive spells.” There was a short silence in which many students turned to reread the three course aims still on the blackboard.


                “Using defensive spells?” Repeated Professor Umbridge with a little laugh. “Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. Surely you aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?”


                “We’re not going to use magic?” Ron exclaimed loudly.


                “Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr -?” Professor Umbridge was getting more and more annoyed at the audacity of these Hogwarts students. Were they just trying to divert attention from the boy? She thought suspiciously.


                “Weasley,” said Ron, also thrusting his hand into the air. She smiled widely and plain out turned her back on him. Harry and Hermoine immediately followed suit.


                “Yes, Miss Granger? You have something else you want to ask?”


                “Yes,” nodded Hermoine. “Surely the whole point of this class is to practice defensive spells?”


                “Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?” asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice.


                “No, but –”


                “Then I’m afraid you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of any class is. Wizards much older and smarter than you have devised this new program of study. You will be learning about spells in a secure, risk-free way –”


              “What use is that?” Harry cut in loudly, unwilling to wait any longer. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be in a –”


                “Hand, Mr Potter!” Professer Umbridge managed to sing, covering up her building anger. He diligently thrust his fist into the air. Again, she promptly turned away from him, however many others had their hands up too.


                “And your name is?” Professor Umbridge asked one boy.


                “Dean Thomas.”


                “Well, Mr Thomas?” She waited expectantly.


                “Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” started Dean. “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk free.”


                “I repeat,” she smiled in an irritating fashion at Dean, “do you expect to be attacked during my classes?”


                “No, but-” Professor Umbridge talked over him, losing patience.


                “I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class. Not to mention,” she gave a nasty little laugh, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”


                “If you mean Professor Lupin,” Dean piped up angrily, hearing an insult to his favourite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher so far, “he was the best we ever-”


                “Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying; you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal – thus frightening you into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day –”


                “No we haven’t,” argued Hermoine, “we just –”


                “Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!” Back in their silent little corner, Shiruba was enjoying the attacks upon Professor Umbridge. She liked these students, they had guts.


                “It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you.” Professor Umbridge stated as she turned away once again from Hermoine who had put up her hand.


                “Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn’t he?” Dean hotly countered. “Mind you, we still learned loads.


                “Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!” trilled Professor Umbridge. “Now, it is the view of the Ministry that theoretical knowledge is more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which after all, is what school is all about. You name is?” She added, staring at another girl whose hand just shot up.


                “Parvati Patil,” she answered, launching straight in to her point without regard to Professor Umbridge’s approval. “And isn’t there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren’t we supposed to show that we can actually do counter-curses and things?”


                “As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason for you to be unable to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,” she answered dismissively.


                “Without ever having practicing them beforehand?” asked Parvati incredulously. “Are you telling us that the first time we’ll get to do the spells will be during our exam?”


                “I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enou-”


                “And what good’s theory going to be in the real world?” said Harry loudly, challenging. Professor Umbridge eyed him.


                “This is school, Mr Potter, not the real world,” she said softly.


                “So we’re not supposed to be prepared for what’s waiting out there?”


                “There is nothing waiting out there, Mr Potter.”


                “Oh yeah?” said Harry. His temper which had been bubbling since awhile ago was reaching boiling point.


                “Who do you imagine wants to attack children such as yourselves?” enquired Professor Umbridge in a honeyed incredulous voice.


                “Oh I don’t know,” said Harry in an equally mocking thoughtful voice, “maybe, Lord Voldemort!” Ron gasped; Lavender Brown barely stifled a little scream; Neville almost fell off his stool; Professor Umbridge, however, remained unaffected. She was staring at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face – which annoyed and confused Harry to no end.


                “Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter.” The classroom was silent and still as everyone held their breath. They stared at both Umbridge and Harry, awaiting the next move.


                “Now, let me make this, quite plain,” Professor Umbridge began, standing up and leaning towards them. “You have been told, that a certain dark wizard is at large once again. This. Is. A. Lie.” She breathed the last words.


                “It’s NOT a lie!” Harry burst in angrily, “I saw him, I fought him!”


                “Detention, Mr Potter!” cried Professor Umbridge triumphantly, chin up, walking back to her desk at the front. Harry jumped up from his seat, startling the others.


                “So according to you Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord?” Harry challenged, voice shaking.


                “Cedric Diggory’s death was a tragic, accident,” she said coldly.


                “It was murder!” yelled Harry. He had hardly spoke of this to anyone and now at least thirty classmates were listening. “Voldemort killed him and you know it!” Professor Umbridge face was quite blank. Then, in a soft, sweetly girlish voice, “Come here, Mr Potter.” He kicked his chair aside and strode to the teacher’s desk. Umbridge pulled out a small roll of pink parchment, stretching it out on her desk, dipped her quill into a bottle of ink and starting scribbling, hunched over the paper so that Harry was unable to see what she was writing. After a minute or so she rolled it up and tapped it with her wand; it sealed itself so that he could not open it.


                “Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,” she said, holding the note out to him. “And take Mr Kiryuu along with you too.”


                “Excuse me?” came Zero’s voice. She couldn’t really be thinking of arguing with him again, could she? What was wrong with this woman?


                “You heard me. Go on,” she smiled sweetly, victory on her face, “off you go.” Harry took the parchment without saying a word, turned on his heel and left the room. Zero scraped his chair on the floor noisily as he stood up and followed suit, a glum look on his face, gritting his teeth. Silver watched him go, slamming the door behind him. He was somewhat surprised to see Harry waiting for him outside. Harry felt somewhat comforted that he wasn’t alone, unlike every other time, but also quite guilty for dragging Zero into what he had caused.


                “Come on,” he said begrudgingly, leading the way. He walked as quick as he could, seeing as Zero kept up easily, the note clutched tightly in his hand. He slammed into Peeves the poltergeist, who was floating on his back in midair; juggling several inkwells.


                “Why, it’s Potty Wee Potter!” cacked Peeves, allowing two of the inkwells to fall to the ground where they smashed and splattered ink on the walls. Harry and Zero jumped backwards out of the way; Harry snarling.


                “Get lost Peeves.” He sidestepped him and continued along the corridor.


                “Ooh, Crackpot’s feeling cranking,” Peeves taunted, pursuing them. “What is it this time, my fine Potty friend? Hearing voices? Seeing visions? Speaking in tongues?” Zero’s brows went up curiously.


                “I said, leave me ALONE!” Harry shouted running down a flight of stairs. A door to his left flew open and Professor McGonagall emerged from her office.


               “What on earth are you shouting about, Potter?” she snapped as Peeves laughed gleefully and zoomed out of sight. “And why aren’t you in class?” She looked up and saw Zero behind him sporty a mildly guilty expression, “both of you?”


                “We’ve been sent to see you,” stated Harry stiffly.


                “Sent? What do you mean?” He held out the note which she took, frowning. Slit it open with her want, stretched it out and began to read. “Come in here, Potter, Mr Kiryuu.” They followed her inside her study, the door closing automatically behind them.


                “Well?” asked Professor McGonagall expectantly, rounding on them. “Is it true?”


                “Is what true?” asked Harry.


                “Is it true that you shouted at Professor Umbridge?”




                “You called her a liar?”




                “You told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back?”


                “Yes.” Professor McGonagall sat down behind her desk, watching him closely. Then she said, “Have a biscuit, boys.”


                “Have – what?” Harry repeated incredulously. Zero was sporting an equally surprised face.


                “Have a biscuit,” she repeated impatiently, indicating a tin of cookies lying atop one of the piles of papers on her desk. “and sit down.” Harry sat down without argument and Zero fidgeted slightly until Professor McGonagall’s eyes drew to him and she mentioned to the chair beside Harry expectantly. He sighed and took a seat.


                “Potter,” Harry looked up at her, “you need to be careful.” He swallowed his mouthful of Ginger Newt and stared at her. Her tone was not what he had anticipated. Instead of the brisk, crisp and stern tone he was used to, it was low and anxious. “Misbehavior in Dolores Umbridge’s class could cost you much more than house points and a detention.”


                “What do you –?”


                “Use your common sense,” she snapped, abruptly returning to her usual manner. “You know where she comes from, you must know to whom she is reporting.” The bell rang for the end of lesson. “It says here she’s given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow,” she said, glancing at Umbridge’s note again.


“Every evening this week!” Harry repeated, horrified. “But Professor, couldn’t you –?”


                “No, I couldn’t,” said Professor McGonagall flatly.


                “But –”


                “She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o’clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember: tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge.”


                “But I was telling the truth!” Harry shouted, outraged.


              “For heaven’s sake, Potter!” she said, straightening her glasses angrily. “Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It’s about keeping your head down and your temper under control!” She stood up, nostrils flared and mouth pressed into a thin line, Harry stood up too. “Didn’t you listen to Dolores Umbridge’s speech at the start-of-term feast, Potter?”


                “Yeah,” said Harry. “She said… progress will be prohibited or… well, it meant that… that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts.” Professor McGonagall eyed him closely, then sniffed, walking around her desk and held the door open.


                “Well I’m glad you listen to Hermoine Granger at any rate,” she said, pointing him out of her office. He turned around and made for the door. Zero slipped out of his seat silently, trying his best not to cause any more trouble. “Not you, Mr Kiryuu.” He stiffened and looked up at her. Harry had stopped too, and was flicking his eyes between him and Professor McGonagall. “I need to have a word with you as well.” Harry hesitated and Professor McGonagall shooed him off effectively, watching the door close once again before stalking back to her desk. She motioned wordlessly for him to resume his seat, which he did reluctantly. “Now Mr Kiryuu…” she began to say.


                “Just Kiryuu or Zero is fine, Professor,” Zero cut in. It felt weird hearing all these people here calling him Mister all the time. Although he understood it was equivalent to their –san honorific, it sounded much more formal in their language. Professor McGonagall nodded.


                “Very well, Kiryuu,” she addressed him similarly to the way she addressed Harry. “It also says here in this note that you apparently challenged Professor Umbridge’s teaching methods. Is this true?”


                “Yes,” Zero answered, feeling a sense of déjà vu, having slipped into Harry’s role from earlier.


                “And you claimed that the Ministry’s approved method of teaching was not… credible?” Zero raised his brow wondering how much that woman had managed to scribble in that tiny note.


                “Yes.” Professor McGonagall sighed.


                “Have a biscuit, Kiryuu,” she motioned to the same tin. He looked at her incredulously.


                “No that’s alright…” he said.


                “Or would you prefer a glass of water?” offered Professor McGonagall. He bristled slightly but disciplined himself, reminding himself that she was merely being considerate. He shook his head.


                “No, thank you.” Professor McGonagall sighed, running a hand over her face.


                “Kiryuu, you heard what I said earlier to Mr Potter, did you not?” Zero nodded an affirmative. “Then you understand that that applies to you too. You two are probably quite high on her wanted list. Potter because of the threat he poses to the Ministry and you because…” she paused, unsure whether it was appropriate to be telling him this. “Well, it is not really a secret that Dolores Umbridge is quite fervent in her campaign against half-breeds, and just about anything that is not a witch or wizard.” Zero nodded again. He understood that from her words back in the class. “That includes you and your friends,” Zero gave her a look at the mention of him being associated with the others as friends. “Whom she regards as no more than… creatures, per say.” Zero shrugged, he knew where the woman was coming from.


I must caution you, however,” Professor McGonagall’s voice went dangerously low and as soft as a whisper, “you’ll do well to stay in her good graces. Professor Dumbledore may be very enthusiastic in participating your principal’s pacifist views, but you have to understand that Dolores Umbridge’s authority comes from higher than what Dumbledore can offer to protect you with; and those dreams can just as easily be crushed by the Ministry by a mere slip-up.” Zero sighed.


                “I know, I understand, I’m sorry,” he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, “I’ll try to be more careful.” Professor McGonagall smiled.


                “Good. However, you are also to be having detention with her along with Mr Potter; every evening this week,” she repeated. He shot her a look but refrained from saying anything.


                “Fine,” he accepted the punishment, getting up from his seat. “Thanks, Professor.” Professor McGonagall walked towards the door and held it open for him.


                “Anytime, Kiryuu. You’re always welcome to come speak to me,” she smiled warmly at him, “you can pretend your head of house is your second-mother!” she joked lightly. He looked at her surprised, before feeling a little touched and threw a grateful smile in her way before leaving. Professor McGonagall shut the door lightly, sighing.     “I just hope Dumbledore knows what he’s doing,” she mumbled to herself, “bringing these poor children into our mess.”


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