Sunlight woke him up, streaming through a crack in the curtains. He decided that getting a start on what would no doubt be a long day early would only be beneficial for him. He'd just gotten into his clothes when his phone rang, picking it up, he saw that it was Trish. He put it on speaker. "Good morning Trish." He answers.

"Morning? Right, you're in Scotland now. How was day one?"

"Boring, as you can imagine. And that Umbridge woman? You'd fry her alive and have no regrets. Hell. I wouldn't even try and stop you." Dante grumbles.

"That bad huh? Show her Hell."

The two devils laugh. "Oh I will. Though, kids won't arrive until the first, you know?" Dante reminds her.

"Oh right, it's only the 16th..." Trish realizes.

"Yeah, I'll settle in. Get organized. And explore this giant castle. Reminds me of Mallet Island, except, you know. No demons in sight, and half the castle isn't a bunch of ruins." Dante comments in an amused tone.

Trish snorts. "Well. Here's to hoping Marionettes don't drop from the ceiling."

"Haha. Don't jinx me. I should get a move on, and it's what? Midnight there? Get some rest."

"Yeah yeah. I'm crashing in your room."

"Be my guest. Have a good night, Trish."

"Have a good day, Dante."

She hangs up.

Yeah, he misses being around already to. He does up the buckles on his waist coat, then pulls on his gloves and coat. He considers bringing Rebellion, but decided against it, slipping Ebony and Ivory into their holsters. He steps out into the hallway, stretching. "Morning Cassandra."

"Good morning Dante. Busy day ahead?"

"Yeah, I'll be back and forth today." Dante nods.

"Good morning Anthony. Did you sleep well?" Filius Flitwick, the half-goblin, was he always so bright and cheerful?

Probably.

Dante turns to him. "Yeah, slept just fine. I stayed up long enough the last two days to adjust to the time zone difference." Dante nods.

"Good, we wouldn't want you exhausted. Would you like me to show you to the Great Hall?"

"That would be appreciated, Filius. I'll learn my way around at some point today." Dante nods.

"Hogwarts is an ever changing castle. You'll get used to her soon enough." Filius cheerily remarks.

Dante gives him a smile. "Yeah. She's definitely an impressive castle." He comments, keeping the conversation going.

"She is wonderful indeed. Certainly more impressive than anything you will see in America."

Dante stops, confusing the diminutive professor. "Have you ever seen an entire city come alive Filius?"

"I cannot say I have."

"Well. I have. And the life and excitement expressed in those times is more grand than this castle will ever be. At the end of the day, what makes a structure, a place, what it is? Is the people. And honestly, visit Vegas once, you'll see so much more that is more impressive that this old draft castle." He snaps, moving forward on his own.

"Ah, Anthony! I'm sorry if I offended you-"

"You all have made some rather ignorant comments about America. Has your whole world really been this castle? You've never travelled away from it?" Dante asks.

Filius looks away. "English magical folk don't travel around much."

"Maybe you should, you'd have a wider world view than what you think is superior. It's really not."

Thankfully, they'd arrived at the Great Hall. Filius doesn't attempt another conversation with him for breakfast. But Umbridge definitely wanted to say something, thankfully, Snape beat her to it. "Are all of your clothes such an obnoxious colour?"

Dante smirks at him. "Red? Yes. Obnoxious, no. It's called style, something you don't exactly seem to have." He shoots back.

"Style? I do not see how such muggle clothing can be seen as fashionable." Snape rolls his eyes.

"Style in combat. See, while you'd get tripped up in your robes trying to dodge attacks, if you were even quick enough to do so, my legs are free to come up and out to stabilize my stance into another ready to move position." Dante states.

"And that coat of yours never gets in the way?"

"Nope. There's a reason it's so open." Dante grins at the incredulous wizard.

"Prove it to me then." Snape challenges him.

Dante grins, strolling into the open area of the great hall. "Give me your best shot Sevvy."

The black clad wizard growls, standing up and storming around the table to begin. "Severus! Anthony! Enough." Dumbledore intervenes.

"Oh no old man. I'm making my point." Dante shakes his finger at Dumbledore, he leans out of the way of the first fired spell.

He dances around the spells, which when compared to demonic attacks, are rather slow. He never once trips up, and his coat stays out of his way as he'd said it did. He lunged out of the way of a few spells, rolling into a ready to move position, he started getting closer and closer to Snape. He drew Ivory to make a point, getting close to Severus, and putting his gun to his head. The older man felt the cold metal against his skull, freezing up in shock. "As I said, you would never have been able to do that." Dante smirks, putting Ivory away.

"What kind of wizard uses a gun?"

"One who hunts devils which are immune, or at the very least are resistant to, magic meant to damage them. The bullets are compressed magic or magic imbued bullets."

"Where is your wand anyways?" Severus asks, recovering himself.

"Don't have one, I never needed it. See?"

A snap of his finger, and Severus's robes were bright red, just to spite the man. He'd transfigured the robes into clothes similar to his own, just to laugh at the horrified expression of the moody broody man. Dumbledore sighed, Snape realized what Dante did and started casting hexes at him again. All of which he dodged. "Enough! I will not have you boys fighting here. Sit down."

Snape follows the order, but Dante refuses to do so. "Let's be real clear here old man, remember our contract. You can request, but I don't take orders like that from you." Dante reminds him.

Dumbledore sighs. "Pip."

Another house elf pops in. "Please show Anthony to his classroom and his office, then the gymnasium and pool." Dumbledore orders the elf.

The shy thing did as ordered, Dante followed it, knowing he hadn't exactly made any friends with his colleagues. The classroom came up first, auditorium style. Which was great. His office was accessed from the classroom, a staircase leading up behind his desk to the wall where another door was situated. He took a glance inside, it was large enough for what he needed to put in here. The office already had a desk, so Dante would be putting his personal desk in the classroom. He mapped out where all of the devil arms and such would go in his head. Pip then lead him to the gym and pool rooms. They were well taken care of, despite being largely unused, so he had no concerns for this area. Pip had left him, so he found his own way back to Cassandra, grabbing his trunk and the things he'd set out, then heading back down to his classroom. He entered again, and got to work. Filling the shelves with books and reference materials, hanging up decorations and the cases and mounts for his Devil Arms, putting his desk together and into position, putting his chair back together and behind his desk, and lots of other things that just had to be done.

The last thing he did was put his Jukebox out. He started it up, the familiar tunes of Helena Houston reaching his ears as he sat down at his desk to arrange his papers, calendars for each year, and decide he'd start off the year with each grade doing an exam. Not only to test where they were in previous learnings, but also to test their common sense, rationality, and their opinions on the problems of today. He was writing those tests up when McGonagall came in, he gave her a look to let her know he was aware of her, then went back to work. "Anthony, your display in the Great Hall was rather childish."

"Minerva, in my kind of work, you learn to take enjoyment where you can get it. The pure, childish kind, is often the best kind." Dante deadpans.

"You did not have to choose Devil Hunting. That was your decision."

"I Inherited the trade Minerva. I didn't choose it, it chose me. When devils mark a line for elimination, they mean the entire line." Dante growls.

Thankfully, his computer chimes to signal an incoming call, and he happily answers. "Yo, Uncle Tony."

"Nero, what has you calling?"

"Woah, who pissed you off?"

"Nosy people who find opportunity to criticize others at every turn for no reason other than they don't conform to their ideals of maturity and propriety."

McGonagall puffs up like a cat, Nero raises an eyebrow. "Ah...so Brits."

Dante nods. "Who are you speaking to, and how?" The huffy woman demands.

"My nephew, Nero. Nero, this is one of my coworkers, Minerva McGonagall. She teaches transfiguration. As for how, Minnie, I'm not a tech specialist, so I don't really know. All I know, is that our electronics can connect in audio and video calls in live time. Much faster and more merciful than using those poor owls. Even more so for myself, since I have contacts all around the world." Dante notes.

McGonagall assesses Nero. "Does your entire...association, dress in such monotone colour schemes?"

Dante gives her a look, she says that to him while wearing tartan green? He tilts his head. "For the most part, sort of." He gives a so-so answer.

"Hey, I did have a reason for calling." Nero cuts in.

"What's going on in Fortuna?"

"Fortuna!?"

"Oh nothing much. Other than the recent influx of demons being strange. I checked all the gates and Nico went through the records from the Order, so far there hasn't been much in the old problem areas."

"That's strange. Keep and eye on them, and put stronger seals around the existing gate areas, keep them under lockdown. As for the new influx, it's probably a nest somewhere in those woods. Try and flush them out, no charge to the people in town."

"Will do. Was just keeping you updated." Nero agrees.

"Thanks kid. Though let's try and keep in mind I'll be teaching classes soon."

"Yeah, I'll make sure to have the schedules and alerts in my phone once you send all that information to us."

"Excellent, see ya later." He ends the call.

"Fortuna Island?" Minerva demands sternly.

"Yeah. What's your problem now?"

"Fortuna Island is off limits."

"To Brits, not Americans. And certainly not to Americans with family roots there." Dante huffs.

"You shouldn't be associating with anyone from that devil worshipping cult."

"The Order of the Sword was a cult, sort of, which has been disbanded for a year now. And they didn't worship just any devil, they worshipped Sparda, vowing to carry on his work in eliminating demons in the Mortal Realm." Dante is feeling rather frosty now.

He feels like Vergil, the way he's talking right now. Minerva stares at him for a few seconds, and then a more upbeat rock son starts playing from the jukebox. "What is this racket?"

"You- you know what. If you don't have anything nice to say, you can walk on out of here. Otherwise, I'll introduce you to my way of kicking people out." Dante growls.

"I am the deputy headmistress, I am your boss, directly under the Headmaster."

"My contract is through Dumbledore and Amelia Bones. You can't do shit. Now get out."

"You will show respect where it is due."

"That's it-"

He picks her up by the scruff like the misbehaving kitty cat she was, now that he'd gotten a read off her aura, he could see she was an animaigus, and dumped her out in the hallway. "And stay there." He added a jeering taunt.

He kicked the door shut behind him, chuckling at her enraged shouts, though surprised at her pure Scottish accent. She hid it well, not well enough though. No wonder she always sounded like she had a stick up her ass. He strolled back over to his desk, not surprised when Dumbledore called a new staff meeting after lunch. He was polishing Rebellion, not caring for the stares he got. "Where did you hide that?" Aurora asks.

"It was in the guitar case."

The staff look at him, telling him to say he was joking. But no, that's where she'd been. "So. What's this about?" He prompts.

"We will arrange the schedule for the upcoming year by houses, and then address your antagonism of the staff." Dumbledore answers.

"You sound mighty dissapointed there gramps. Let's address the fun stuff first, shall we?"

"Fun! You picked me up by my collar and tossed me into the hall!" Minerva snaps.

"To be fair, I did give you warnings. A chance to mosey on out on your own. And you were speaking rather ignorantly of things you don't understand." Dante reminds her.

"You shouldn't be so antagonistic." Dumbledore chides.

"Your staff shouldn't make ignorant comments. But I digress."

"Anthony..."

"Don't even start to act like we are close old man. They should take a few days in my shoes, full on duties. I am who I am because of what I do. You won't find much of a different attitude with anyone in this business." Dante states.

"What calls for you to be so rude?" Pomona is scowling, she really only looks like she's trying to imitate Umbridge.

"You get a demon mad, they make mistakes. Mistakes easily taken advantage of. Angry opponents are reckless. Joking around is a way to handle stress, and find some enjoyment in an otherwise rather dreary and gory profession. And let's be real clear here, I only get mean when your staff says or does something that really only proves my point. You Brits are so wrapped up in yourselves, that you've forgotten that Britain isn't the only country to exist. That wizards are not the only important beings out there. That magic is not meant to be limited. It's time you all woke up and got your heads out of the sand, the world has moved on. And left you all in the far gone past." Dante lectures them.

"How dare you!? You sloppy, noisy Americans think you can just come in and criticize how our perfect society functions!?" Umbridge screeches.

"Umbridge, this society is the furthest from perfect you can get." Dante snorts.

"Enough. I will not have my staff squabbling. We still have just under two weeks until the students arrive. I want to arrange the teacher guardian for the train."

"You mean for Potter." Snape sneers.

Ah, the other problem with the Brits. Putting the weight of the world on the shoulders of a child. Vilifying him for plots made against him by a foe the ministry refuses to acknowledge had never truly died, or bothered investigating in the first place. "I'll volunteer. I need to stop in Diagon anyways." Dante notes.

Dumbledore gives him an appraising look. "Will you join the escort for Harry?"

"Yeah. Oh, I do have a question though. In his trial, why did none of you address that he was emancipated last year, and therefore the underage laws didn't actually apply to him. And, why did you charge him for magic in front of a muggle, when that law only applies to non-magicals who don't already know of magic. The news said the muggle witness was Potter's cousin. Who lives in the same house as him." Dante asks the adults.

They all look at him in surprise. "Oh? Didn't think of that did ya'?" He laughs.

They all seem to turn this over in his head. "Mister Potter was not officially emancipated in the eyes of the ministry." Umbridge states, sickly sweet.

"Except he was, by the ministry approved binding contract he was forced into. All participants had to be of legal age, 17. Yet as an underage student, he was made to compete. To make it legal, he was emancipated by the judges, ministry representatives, and foreign dignitaries recognizing him as a competitor." Dante smugly lectures, he leans Rebellion against the table, done with polishing her.

"Potter does not need even more adding to his arrogant disposition." Severus cuts in.

"Arrogant huh? Funny. Anyways, I'll go to Diagon Alley on the 31st, stay the night, and come back with the students on the first, right?" Dante asks, moving away from the topic they evidently wanted to ignore.

Dumbledore collects himself. He looks rather peeved, guess it's because Dante brought up something he wanted kept quiet. The half-devil gave him an expectant look, smirk on his face. "Ahem. With that settled, let us arrange the class schedule." Dumbledore starts off.

"You should put my classes as double periods. When we do any physical work, they'll need extra time to really get some work in." Dante immediately pipes in.

"The classes will need double periods to brew certain potions as well." Severus states afterwards.

"You should not ever put Slytherin and Gryffindor together in my class ever again." Bathsheda firmly requests.

"You know, instead of separating them, perhaps you should try actually tackling the problems between those two houses. End the problem permanently instead of perpetuating the cycle." Dante suggests.

He's ignored.

More work for him in his classes then. He wouldn't tolerate any of that damn house rivalry nonsense. The meeting seemed to drag on, he almost fell asleep in his chair. He began to recite demonic sagas in his head, anything was more interesting than this. Even old sagas of Mundus' rise to power. 'And it was with the fruit of the Qliphoth Tree, bearing fruit once more in its thousandth year of inactivity, that Mundus found his divine power and right to rule...and he waged war upon the Realm of Light, bringing with him delicious spilt blood of the humans, their fear and their pain... and with his loyal Knight, Sparda, he crossed the continents like the Plague...The Dark Knight turned on his King, forsaking his true demonic heritage for the pitiful mortals...and with the Human Eva, bore fruit from the womb, twin sons..."-Anthony?"

"Hmm?" He snaps back into focus.

"You've not been paying attention. Just what has captured your attention?"

"Oh you know, old sagas written by demonic sages. Dry reads, important history." Dante shrugs.

"You...were reciting stories of demonic origin in your head?"

"Well, yeah. Sparda's rebellion is far more interesting that this squabble for class time and who gets the rival houses when. Usually I'd have my magazines, but they've been considered too lecherous for prudish eyes." Dante shrugs, totally unapologetic.

Minerva puffs up again, ready to unleash a new string of angry Gaelic at him. "Anthony. What is Sparda?" Dumbledore tiredly asks.

"You're kidding right? The Dark Knight Sparda? Devil who sealed away his own powers to separate the Mortal and Dark Realms to protect humanity from Mundus just over 2000 years ago? Ringing any bells? No. Wow." Dante couldn't believe this, how had they forgotten such important information?

The non-magical humans, he could understand. They just blamed such massive death on wars, illness, and monsters in legends. Like the Kraken, that was a demon, but modern scientists believe the Kraken 'myth' came from the Giant Squid. He'd discovered a lot of these texts written on human skin...he'd probably end up translating and transcribing all of those damn sagas in his free time. Demons didn't really embellish anything, those old sages who wrote the sagas certainly didn't care for politics, only staying out of the way of powerful devils that could kill them. And, some of them could be rather interesting, if you could ignore the fact the words were written in human and demon blood on dried human skin treated like leather, and written in the language of the dark realms. Meaning only those with demonic heritage could read them. "Oh please, that old myth? Merely a fairy tale." Charity waves off.

"Not a myth. You wouldn't believe how many devils are still cursing Sparda." Dante growls, that's his family heritage she's just waving off like that.

His father was a myth. Hah.

"Charity, I do believe this is what Anthony meant by ignorance. He does know the truth of the demonic forces far better than any of us. If any would know of the truth and lies of the legend of Sparda, it would be Anthony." Dumbledore placates.

Dante lets it go. They didn't know any better. But he would be properly educating their kids for sure. Talk continued on, barely touching on him, and he went back to reciting sagas, this time, not about Sparda. 'And it was to Leviathan, the great beast of the blood seas...'

He was bored, and had decided to go exploring. He wanted to break something, and he wanted to do it now. Everything in him was begging to go antagonize one of the other professors into a duel to blow off some steam. Drag out a fight and have some fun with it. He still had a week before he had to go escort one Harry James Potter to Hogwarts from Kings Cross Station. Just running around the gym wasn't cutting it anymore. He felt like a caged beast, and that was never good for anyone but himself, kind of, so here he was. Stalking the halls at night for hidden rooms. He felt foolish, looking behind tapestries, paintings (which became rather irritated with him), and tapping walls to listen for the tell tale signs of a false wall. But he'd gotten zilch from this damn castle. He was just about ready to head into the Forest and see what it offered him, hopefully something challenging. Then, an idea hit him. House Elves! They would know this castle top to bottom. But should he really bother the poor creatures at this time of night? Morning-yeah. It was 2 in the morning.

Hmm...before he starts actually breaking the castle, he should just ask the house elves about dueling rooms. He knew of Pip the best, seeing as Dumbledore assigned Pip to him as a sort of guide, and to take care of Dante's rooms. "Hey, Pip, you awake?"

"I be's awake, Master Tony."

Yeah, he wasn't used to that either. At least he'd gotten Pip to use Tony instead of Anthony. Really, his mercenary name had just been Tony Redgrave, everyone just assumed it was the short form of Anthony. He wonders how Vergil would react to being called Redgrave, hah. He had a name in mind for a long time, if his brother wanted it. Just as a disguise for the humans. Andrew Vergil Redgrave, surely he would accept the surname. Seeing as it was taken from Red Grave City, which he neglected to mention to anyone outside of his associates. All of which had assumed names and aliases as well. Nero just took Credo's name as his own middle name, much to Kyrie's joy, and Redgrave as his surname so no one questioned their relation beyond the odd age gap of 15 years. Vergil was in for a surprise...if he returned. Dante killed Nelo Angelo, which means he killed his brother. He sighs, that killed a lot of his pent up aggression right there. Then he remembered Pip was was still here, waiting. "Ah, do you know of anywhere I can go all out in training, and not destroy the castle?"

"Yes! There be's the Come and Go Room! Elves call it that! Wizards be calling it the Room of Requirement." Pip answers him happily.

"Can you tell me where it is, and how to access it?" He asks.

"Of course! Follow Pip."

Across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet, in the seventh floor left corridor, you had to pace back and forth three times while thinking about what you wanted. He dismissed Pip with a thanks, and entered the room. It looked innocent enough, until magical constructs of demons began to pour from the walls. Rebellion lashed out at the construct closest to him, dark red blood splattering against the floor, the body turning into black dust. Perfect, just like real demons.

The room wasn't white for very long.