Dante had one burning question at the top of his head.

Why the fuck was Umbridge in his classroom? Sitting in his chair. And sitting like she was to be teaching Life Skills? He gets up, and she sat her oversized ass right down. He picks up his chair and tilts her out of it. "Pip, I'd like a full disinfection of my chair and desk ASAP. Kids, follow me." He states, using magic to pick up Umbridge and toss her on her ass outside of his classroom. He locked the door behind him with a demon barrier.

The kids had come to his class with their gym bags, they already knew where they were going. Umbridge finally picked herself up, screeching bloody murder at him. He couldn't care less as he held the door open for the last student, then slammed it shut before Umbridge could open it. He immediately washed his hands, because fuck if he was letting whatever perfume she'd been wearing seep into his skin. Hell no. The door opens once more as the kids come out changed into their gym uniforms. He blows his whistle. "Alright kiddos! See these bracelets here? They're going to record your performance today. This is still a bit experimental, so you'll have to bear with it. But I have utmost faith in my tech lady, so you'll be fine. We're going to start off with a 15 minute stretch!"

Umbridge storms up to him, nose red. He has to hold in laughter. "HOW DARE YOU! YOU FILTHY AMERICAN! YOU DARE TO ATTACK A MINISTRY OFFICIAL!?"

"Do you kids hear anything?" He taunts her.

They give him confused looks, because she is obviously screeching in his ear from only a short distance away. A shield he puts up, usually used for medical procedures to prevent back splash of bodily fluids, prevents the spittle from touching him. Thank God he knew that spell. He silences her. Instead watching the kids, correcting a few stretches on them so they don't hurt themselves. He expects the Quidditch players to outperform the rest of the crowd, he knows a few look more active than they seem to be. And some are lazy enough that he'll need to push them even for a light jog today. "Alright! Time's up! Start running, or jogging, around the track. Keep it easy alright? This is just a baseline test, not your final exam." He reminds them.

It takes a slow moment, but the kids do eventually get on the track. Even the Quidditch players are starting with a jog, good, he could see their stamina long term and their ability to pace themselves rather than their short term speed. The toad hasn't noticed he silenced her yet, he picked up his clipboard and removed a blank piece of paper from the back, he wrote a quick note to the old man to get the witch out of his room so he could run his fucking class properly, and sent it off with a flick of a finger. Umbridge watches it go in confusion, he turns his attention back to the students. As expected, the few he'd already spotted out were already lagging behind. "Goyle! Crabbe! Parkinson! Brown! Patil! Granger! Pick up the pace! I said run or jog! Not walk!" He barks.

The grouping of snakes and lions give him dirty looks before picking it up, slightly. This was going to be a long start out if they were this bad. The long term Quidditch players were keeping a nice pace, the quidditch kids being Potter and Malfoy. After 45 minutes, and still no rescue from Umbridge, he finally frog marched her out and sealed the door, with magic of course. He wasn't touching that thing. "Alright! Short five minute break! Get some water and a breather! No sitting down!" He orders.

A few of the kids almost collapse in relief, all of them are in varying degrees of laboured breathing. He sighs. Should he even bother with weights? Yeah, he should. "Alright, keep stretching. I'm going to call you over one by one to do a few weight tests. Lets start with Brown!" ... "Lavender Brown!"

The girl races over, embarrassed.

Bulstrode...Davis...Finnegan...Goyle...Granger...Greengrass...

Gods there was a lot of kids. And he still had to do this for the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw class? Ugh.

"Alright kids! Hit the showers! Hand in your bracelets and pack up from the classroom. Tomorrow we go over your tests!"

Those were amazing words. Even to Dante. This testing had been painful. Each bracelet is now registered to each student, they probably didn't notice the fact their names were on the bracelets, had been since he started calling them by name and he responded. He made sure each name lined up to whoever handed in the bracelet before putting them down separately on the table in the box meant for this class. He closed it, a spell cleaning off the sweat, and carried the box to the classroom to start the grading process. The kids would see the feedback on their gradebooks, he'd go over it entirely in the next class. Sadly, Umbridge was still there, outside his door. Judging from the minor electrical burns on her hands, she tried to force the barrier open to. To this, he did laugh. He knows better than anyone that those barriers hurt like a fucking bitch. "What sort of dark magic is this!?"

"It isn't dark magic Toady. It's a ward. Of course, at your level of magical expertise, it's no wonder you can't recognize such a simple security ward." He mocks her, and he's lying straight out of his ass. But she doesn't know that. She growls, though it sounds more like she's choking when she does.

He removes the ward, shoving her aside with magic loosely, he ain't touching that thing. And he's making it obvious he finds her more dirty than the devils he hunts. He sits waits by the door until all the kids have left, to keep Umbridge out, and seals the door behind them. He has grades to make and he won't be putting them off. He sits down, sighs, opens the box of bracelets for the Gryffindor-Slytherin class, and begins to go through the bracelet logs one by one. They work almost like smart watches, but they record even the action and posture of the student. He notes when they start to lag, when they should have stopped, when they stopped and could have kept going. He makes note to correct a lot of running forms in this class, a common theme at Hogwarts, and he can't believe he actually has to start such a mixed class at the very basics of physical fitness.

He'd planned for it, but he hadn't though even older students would be so...horribly unaware of how their bodies needed a semi-good diet and physical activity at their age. But that's on them, and he wouldn't be going easy on those kids. He sends out the grades, stretches out, and hits the gym before dinner. He'd go to the RoR later that night to really work off his pent up aggressions. He picks out his tablet to really start the individual student files now that he has the general data in his tablet. Thank God for Nico making sure his tablet could handle so much data storage on it specifically for the purpose of keeping track of year progress of each student. He sealed his classroom behind him, then considered doing the same to his personal rooms. He'd run it by Cassandra, wouldn't want to make her feel like she was failing her duty as a guard for him. She was a sweet girl, it made him wonder how she'd died. But she could have died while she was much older, the magical portrait only captures the personality and knowledge of the soul up until the time the painting is made, not their growth afterwards. He enters the hall, and bites back a groan.

There she is. Again. To make his life harder than it had to be. "Seriously Umbridge, what the fuck is your problem!? I'm too busy to deal with your shit. You aren't, of course, since you are doing jack shit in your class! But me? I'm trying to teach here, and do so effectively. So buzz off!" He snaps at her.

"So crass. I have put in an official report on you! I am having you fired!"

"Ah, but here's where your power is zero, dear Toady. I have mentioned this before to you, dumbass. My contract is signed on absolutely for the year with Amelia Bones and Albus Dumbledore. You? You are nowhere near that official, magic substantiated contract. I can't quit just as much as I can't be fired, and outside parties can't fuck with the contract either. A stipulation I put in place. You fuck with the contract, and retaliation by magic will come swiftly upon you." He warns her, smug.

"I am a ministry official! Madam Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister! You cannot treat me in such a way!"

"Doesn't that position mean you basically suck his dick under the desk and feed his ego?"

The whole hall falls into silence, stunned. The toad explodes.

Sadly, not literally.

"HOW DARE YOU!?"

"I dare." His amusement is so not dropping, not after he protected his ears from noise damage with a pair of earmuffs he snapped up, like the ones used for Mandrakes.

"YOU FILTHY AMERICAN!"

"Hey! I bathe. Squeaky clean, this five o'clock shadow is nothing."

"YOU DISGUSTING MUDBLOOD FILTH!"

He slaps her. She falls to the ground, stunned, even as he begins to burn his gloves off his hands. "That derogatory term for muggle born students is a prohibited word under multiple sections of the school law in any cases of blatant insult. Prohibited for blatant hate speech, discrimination, and perpetuation of false beliefs that students born from a muggle background are lesser than those born from magical backgrounds. Now, allow me to inform you of the consequences of your poor decision just now. Professors, upon using such words, automatically forfeit half a year's pay, forfeit the OWL and NEWT O Grade bonuses, and forfeit the right to participate in any decisions involving students for six months. In other words, you just gave even more of your power away. You've lost your ability to assign detentions, lost your ability to take and give points, and you have no authority to keep students in your classroom if they feel you'll only harm their emotional and mental health by being bigoted. And, to make it even worse, you've done this in the Great Hall, where everyone is watching." He lectures her harshly.

No one insults kids. Fucking bitch. If she'd called him mudblood in private, he wouldn't have cared, he's been called far more insulting terms by demons. But she said it in front of the entire 1024 students here at Hogwarts, meaning she just discriminated against 302 students at Hogwarts only because of their parentage. If you included the half-bloods (some extremists considered them mudbloods because of their half muggle related blood), that brought the number up to 683 students at Hogwarts. Dumbledore stormed over with the Heads of Houses, none of them were happy at all. "Really Delores? We are, quite literally, eight days into the fall term!" Minerva picks the woman up, dragging her out.

"What are you going to say to the students old man? Take a look at them. A good portion of them are ready to cry just from hearing that damn word." Dante points out.

"Students! My deepest apologies for Professor Umbridge's words. As Professor Redgrave said, if you feel she cannot be fair with you for the next six months, you will not be penalized for skipping her class." Dumbledore announces.

That's it? He sweeps out.

That senile old coot!

He couldn't believe what he was staring at. Educational Decree number 23. 'Delores Jane Umbridge has been appointed to the post of Hogwarts High Inquisitor'. Was this a joke? What kind of position was this? And it was dated September 8th. Did she seriously, after being reprimanded for a derogatory term, have the Minister pass this to gain power over the other teachers? She knew, and the Minister knew, that he was untouchable. And that, as a professor still, she couldn't assign any sort of reward or punishment to the students or staff. But this new made up position? Judging by the bureaucratic nonsense of the notice details which followed in the September 9th edition of the Daily Prophet, she was basically given the power to sack any teacher she deemed inadequate, punish students and staff for 'illicit' activities, and essentially terrorize the castle. This bitch.

And he'd thought he'd won against her. He made his classroom open for anyone who needed a safe haven, they were going to need it. He posted his class schedule outside his door so students knew what was going on inside if they ever fled into his room as needed. He set up a comfortable area in his office where the four houses could all comfortably sit with some books, and made sure Pip could supply snacks and beverages for whatever miserable students Umbridge causes to flee to the only teacher that could possibly protect them entirely anymore. He wishes he was exaggerating with this...but sadly he wasn't. He needed to talk to Lady, she'd know how to handle things from here. Strange as that may sound, Lady was pretty good with kids at the school age and with politics of the magical governments. If anyone could do some spying for him, it was her.

He didn't have the seventh years until 8, so in the meantime, he'd skip breakfast and call her instead. He turned on the computer in his office and dialed her, it was only the afternoon in Capulet, so he was fine calling her now. "Dante? This is a surprise." She smirks, seems she's on her motorcycle, if they're speaking through her helmet. "Nico did some upgrades?"

"Hell yeah she did. We weren't scheduled for a call until Sunday weren't we?"

"Something turned up. Umbitch got an educational decree passed in retaliation for me establishing my immunity from her reach. She called me a mudblood in front of the entire school population at dinner, Lady. I've made changes to my office to ensure any student who feels the need to hide from her where she can't get them can hide. But even I will eventually feel the pain as the students and staff are made to suffer her new power, which I suspect is illegal. But their minister is so fucking corrupt the DMLE has to work in secret to counteract Riddle!" He vents.

"Shit. And I encouraged you to take her head on, fuck. Okay, new plan. I'm going to do my research, then get on the phone with my contacts in MACUSA and the ICW to see if we can't curb her with some international pressure."

"No. The UK will shut it all out eventually, the foreign agreements signed in 1950 ensure that." Dante sighs.

She sets off into a rather inventive string of curses she must have picked up from demons. They rub off on the best of them eventually he supposes. He's picked up a few rather nasty demonic insults as well, they never fail to rile up his opponents either. He'd first used such language to rile up Mundus, and oh boy. Calling Mundus a 'little temper tantrum prone bitch that got outsmarted by a half-breed and his own creation' and saying 'your power comes from stolen fruits, you yourself are a weakling if this is what your boost in power was, a true devil like Sparda would have become godlike in comparison!' had made the former demon emperor so pissed off he'd fallen right into where Dante had wanted him. It felt good, to avenge his deceased family in such a way.

"Alright Dante. I'm going to do some massive research, I'll get back to you about what I can find out exactly on Sunday. I just arrived at my job, catch you soon."

She hung up, and right on time. His first students just came in.

Hogwarts High Inquisitor? Now why did that sound like a horrible moment of rather obvious foreshadowing? Harry found himself trudging to a Life Skills class with Umbridge moodily sitting in the back of the classroom. But...she had a clipboard, and she had a smug look on her face to, despite her clearly bad mood. "Ignore the toad everyone, she can't do anything to this class. I'm going to give everyone their results back, and then we're going to go over them."

This didn't take long. He just called names and placed the papers down on his desk, students picked up the sheets. "As you can see, I've already marked down the simple single answer questions, multiple choice questions, and numerical responses according to the answers given. I noted down where in the compendium review section the answer to each of these questions were. The essay questions are where most of you lost your marks. Those questions were to test your understanding of mortality, your ingenuity, and your ability to think outside the moral compass taught to you, and the understanding of when to cross the line where it is necessary. For the most part, you failed this section. Could you use a first year level spell to kill someone. Anyone who put no was immediately marked a zero for that question. That makes almost half of your year, by the way. A quarter of the class thought of using the levitation charm on a heavy object to injure or kill the subject of the question. What I was looking for, was truly only given to me by a quarter of the fifth years. Either using the softening charm to weaken the bones or veins of the subject, or using the levitation charm directly on the subject to drop them from a great height, or onto some sort of sharp object. One of the 'Claws must have a grudge against the Whomping Willow, since their answer included some unintentional fantasizing about dropping a rather hated Death Eater who got away from punishment into the branches of said testy willow tree. No names were mentioned, but the true desire was there, and I'd pay to see the tree take care of some of those bastards. Any questions on the first year section?"

"Sir, why do you classify the smokescreen spell as useful? You get caught in it to." Parvati asks.

"If you use it correctly, you could use it to make a getaway, or serve as a distraction for an opponent long enough for you to take actual cover. Any other questions about the first year section?" Dante answers.

Nope. Moving on. "Hem Hem."

Oh fuck. "I do believe you haven't raised your hand, Miss Umbridge. Moving on."

So he'd heard about her classes and her demand for raised hands only. Hehehehe.

"The second year essay question, was if the tickling charm could be used to kill someone. Most of you were half off. Most of you said the tickling charm doesn't last long enough with a single cast to suffocate someone. And yes, the spell can actually suffocate someone. You could either push magic continuously into a single cast by holding the connection of magic, or you could cast the spell consecutively until the victim was properly deceased. Either way, most of you failed that question. Third year essay question. If you had to use a third year spell to kill someone, which one would you choose and why? Let's see, the best answer was Duro. Though it is illegal to transfigure the blood of another person, I do believe, that in the case of your death versus theirs, using this quick, irreversible spell, would not only confuse your opponent, but swiftly dispose of them."

"Hem Hem."

"Moving on to the fourth year questions. I based this part largely off of Crouch's plans, purely because he actually did his job right. I asked you what the three unforgiveable curses were, and what they did. None of you answered incorrectly. For some of you, that's a miracle on its own. I asked you about deflecting and redirecting hexes and curses, common counter spells and their uses, checked your knowledge of the limits of shield charms, and asked you about the possible range of power which could be used in the Reductor Curse. Strangely enough, not many of you knew that the amount of power you put in determines how large the area of destruction is. I asked what the use of the severing charm in a fight could be, and to my great satisfaction, all of you compared it to being like a blade from a distance. Placement, however, is key."

"Hem Hem!"

"Lastly, I asked you about the Patronus Charm. My first question, can you cast the Patronus Charm? Out of 80 students in fifth year, only one of you can cast the Patronus Charm. I'd like to see it, Potter."

The teen stands up. Umbridge is practically coughing now. "Expecto Patronum."

Harry watched his patronus prouly, Prongs bounced around, showing off, before dissipating since he wasn't actually needed at the moment. "Excellent. Very good. Now, my next questions were, what is the incantation. I do believe you've just heard it. And, what is it used for. Let's see...Bulstrode, what is the Patronus used for?"

"To send messages."

"Thomas, your answer?"

"To drive off dementors and lethifolds."

"And you're both correct. The Patronus Charm can do both."

The class stares at him, clearly most of them hadn't known that. Or it would have been in their test answers. "The essay question-" "Professor Redgrave!"

"What do you want toad, I'm in the middle of a class here?"

She glares at him. "None of this material is in the ministry approved Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum."

"Well, good thing this isn't DADA. This is Life Skills, isn't it?" He shrugs, smug smirk on his face.

She puffs up. Not a good look in that colour of pink-don't vomit Harry. Don't vomit. "As I was saying. The fourth year level essay question, asked how you would use the patronus charm in a fight. There were varying degrees of answers. Some, because the student did not know what the charm was, admitted they didn't know how they could use it. Since these questions were actually NEWT Level questions, unless they were answered correctly, they weren't counted towards your final mark. But for those who did know about the charm, I got varying interesting answers. Potter, since he can cast the charm, said he'd use it as a distraction. With the attention on his stag, he could fire off the necessary spells to end whatever fight he was in. Most of you said you'd just use it against dementors, if they were even at the battlefield. And some said they'd use it as a messenger to get help or warn others of what was happening. In the end, there was no right or wrong answer for this question. Now, onto the OWL level stuff. This is where the vast majority of you lost your marks. And since I'll be going over all of it anyways, I'm just going to skip to the last essay question. If faced with Death Eaters here and now, invading the school, what would you do?"

Silence. Except Umbridge's croaking.

"Just a quick thing here. Every single one of you would have died with your approach. Regardless. You would have eventually been cut down in a real fight, because none of you took into account that terrorists won't attack you one by one, they'll attack you as a group."

Realization. "Though, your answers for this were actually pretty well thought out, for some of you anyways, so some of you got full marks anyways, and others failed this question miserably. With that done, let's move on to your physical scores from the fitness test. There's a saying. A group is only as strong as its weakest link. And, in this case, this means your class is rather...lacking. I won't go over specifics, since this data should really only be between me, the school nurse, the student, and the parents which are involved. Some of you are on your way to eating yourselves into early graves, whereas others are right on track to earning excellent fitness levels. I'm going to ask each of you to provide a medical record, for this year, to Madam Pomfrey. I need to know if you have underlying medical conditions I need to keep in mind while I develop my program. Those of you who can provide a verified medical record are exempt from an exam. Otherwise, Madam Pomfrey will conduct the entire work up from top to bottom." Dante states.

"Wait! What!?" Weasley exclaims.

The half devil's eyes transfer to the red head idiot. Why couldn't he be more like his brothers? "Is there a problem with this order, Mr. Weasley?"

"What about our right to privacy, Professor?" Granger asks hurriedly, his eyes keep darting over to him.

Ah, this is about hiding what they've done to him. "Nope, sorry. This is far too important to let go of." The professor stays stern.

Harry has another question now. Madam Pomfrey, was she on the side of the students? Whatever, he'd go for her exam, and send in the results of the Goblin and School exams to the Professor. How could she, after four years of injuries, have missed his abuse? Hermione, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, some of them anyways. And now Madam Pomfrey? Who could he actually trust now? He opened up his Life Skills tab, tapping the tab for Physical Education. His starting statistics weren't actually all that bad. He wasn't perfectly physically fit, that was for sure, but he did have the best running form and stamina out of his class. This, as the professor noted, was a good starting point. But when it came to physical strength and his agility, he was lacking. Something to work on, and he would work on it. "Professor Redgrave, this is highly unorthodox and absolutely unnecessary." Umbridge states.

"Is it? Any and every school my ward has gone to, we've had to provide some medical information to her school in case something happens to her." Dante shoots her down.

Do all adult wizards want to ignore, or even purposefully hide the abuse of children? That was disturbing on so many levels. You'd think there'd have already been this sort of thing. Why did he not think about this all before. Oh wait, right, he'd been spelled and potioned into being a naïve pawn. What if Madam Pomfrey was under spells or potions to, maybe that's how she missed everything? He really didn't want to think the worst of the school matron, she'd been at Hogwarts for so long that if she was in Dumbledore's pocket in such a way...he didn't think he'd ever trust a doctor or healer ever again. Outside of the Goblin ones. He really needed to talk to Nevan, if he could trust anyone at this point, it was his own blood. He knew Nevan wouldn't lie to him, not at such a crucial point in forging a new bond like theirs. "That is the way muggles work, why would we ever stoop so low as to follow their practices?"

"Toady, get out. If you can't think of a single good reason as to why such medical checks should be mandatory, you can march on out of here."

Umbridge saw herself out this time, to avoid being frog marched out the door again. "Now that she's gone. I'll just say this straight out. If you ever need a place to hide from that bitch, my door's open. Even if I have a class, you can just join in our head on up to my office in the area I've arranged for students. That new educational decree? As corrupt and wrong as it is, gives her legitimate power in the school right now. She won't hesitate to take extreme measures to punish students, even if they don't actually do anything wrong, just because she doesn't like them. My class schedule will be posted on my door starting tomorrow. Bell goes in 45 minutes, so start on the first assignment in your Unit 1 Tab. I'm open for any questions if you have them, it's open book. In fact, I encourage opening up your books." Dante instructs.

Papers ruffle, tablets are pulled out, and styluses start to move as the students settle into the rest of the period. Harry decides to check what he got wrong first. Turns out, nothing. Which surprised him, he didn't think he'd studied the review section that well, or paid attention much at all over the years, guess he was wrong. Or the test was just easier than he thought. But he did say mock owl? Maybe he just meant in length. The first assignment was on the DMLE and its processes. A hand went up, Pansy Parkinson's. "Miss Parkinson?" The Professor acknowledges her.

"Sir, why do we need to learn about the DMLE?"

"Good question. As students, you were certainly told about the underage magic restriction. What you haven't been told, is that that law is not so absolute in certain circumstances. Should you ever find yourself falsely accused, or in a situation which may require you to stand before a section of the DMLE, you should know how to handle them, the laws that apply to this class in any and all offensive and defensive actions you can take as students and as young adults, and your rights in these circumstances. Outside of that, you should know how auror ranks and their division work, how to work with the DMLE instead of against it, and how to submit proper, viable evidence to them should the need ever arise." Dante answers.

"You think we really will have to fight against something large soon."

Miss Parkinson, I don't believe the last war was ever truly over." Dante says gravely.

Harry very much agrees with that statement. Voldemort and his Death Eaters weren't punished for their actions properly, they didn't all die either. They just weaseled their way out of legal repercussions and escaped entirely. Even if Riddle had lost his body. The war was no longer on hold, and it was their job to finish what their parents started, maybe even their grandparents. No matter which side they ended up on. And Harry would kill Tom Riddle, for his parents and for himself. Not for the wizarding world, not as the Boy-Who-Lived, but as Hadrian Potter, son of James and Lilia Potter. Victims of Lord Voldemort. It was Revenge and much as it was self preservation at this point, seeing as the dark lord was aiming for his head.

The bell rings. He walks up to Dante once everyone else had left. Hermione berating the three boys she was stuck with as she went. "What do you need, kid?"

"When can I talk to Nevan next?"

"After dinner. You have practice today."

"Right, thanks. See you tonight." He says, Nevan's energy flares for a moment in glee before settling back down.

Well, that's her answer.

Dante sighs. He's very sure that Umbridge was only going to get worse as she sat in on more and more classes. At least she couldn't do anything to his class, he'd have planned her murder if she tried. He sits down in his seat at the high table, red coat tossed carelessly over the back of his seat while he looked out over the students. Most of them kept stealing glances at Umbridge as she pretended she was some high society lady with her dinner etiquette. It looked more forced than the Slytherin first years as they tried to keep the effortless etiquette of the seventh year Slytherins. "I heard you ordered medical examinations for every student." Snape addresses him.

"That I did."

"It is about time someone enabled that to happen."

What? Where did this attitude change come from? "You feeling alright there? I could have sworn that was civil."

The man seems to struggle with himself for the next ten minutes internally, even if his face was carefully blank. "I was...acting out of jealousy and spite in our earlier encounters. The Headmaster did not make you seem as calm and intelligent as you turned out to be."

"Me? Calm? Hah. I'm not calm, I just have an outlet for my emotions at the moment. Teaching is tiring. Anyways, apology accepted. Now, if you knew this sort of thing was needed, why didn't you implement it?" He asks lowly.

For once, he's glad they ended up seated next to each other this time. "The Headmaster...he is...set in his ways."

"You mean far more corrupt than anyone would ever expect."

Severus' eyes widen minutely before he regains his mask. "You know something."

"It's anyone's guess. But dark auras can't hide from someone who can read energy. It's like the smell of death and decay that sticks to demons, the darkness that permeates them. It's a tell all."

"He may find out you are onto him."

"He's not a threat to me. Don't you worry Sevvy. Hey, have you ever heard of shampoo?"

The man glares at him. "I use a special oil in my hair to protect it from potions fumes! I spend all day and most evenings over cauldrons!"

"Relax, I was just teasing. You'd smell something awful if you didn't use soap." Dante smirks.

The 35 year old just glowers at him. "You are something else."

"That's the nicest thing you've said to me." He teases.

"Is that smug smirk your only expression?"

"What? This expression?"

"Aren't you two becoming animated?" Dumbledore says from behind them.

"Indeed, Severus, I've never seen you so pleased while speaking with a fellow staff member." Poppy Pomfrey adds.

"Pleased?" Severus drawls.

"You're bantering. Not being cruelly sarcastic or downright frosty. But honest to god bantering with someone." Poppy teases him.

He glowers at her. "Perhaps it is because they are so close in age and attitude?"

"What?" The two men give the old man who spoke an incredulous look.

"Mmm. I can see it now. Anthony is 31 in October, and Severus is 35. Not to mention, that despite their personality differences, their dedication to their crafts and the seriousness at which they approach teaching their subjects to the students is extremely similar." Septima nods.

"Death and darkness follows them both." Trelawney adds her drunken comment to the scene.

Though Dante knows she means it in a different way, the comment isn't exactly off base for the two of them. He knows that Severus has some sort of curse on him, one connected to something or someone else far away from the school. And Dante is no stranger to the dark realm or to death, he's sure Severus has seen or even caused deaths himself. There's no escaping it in a war, especially not since Severus had been in the same house at the same time as a good majority of suspected death eaters and many convicted ones. A talented half blood in the snake house? He'd have been killed if he didn't go with Voldemort, not unless someone of great power stepped in for him first, and Dumbledore would never have done that. But that was the past now, it couldn't be changed, only taken advantage of. And take advantage of it he shall. He knew Nevan's young grandson was already experiencing the demonic want for rather vicious revenge, and while he was somewhat confused, he also seemed to be both questioning and embracing these new instincts. He took it as a good sign rather than a bad one, he'd likely adjust to his powers as they came in closer to his physical maturity. "Anthony, have you noticed how different the fifth years have been?"

"Have they?"

"Right, you've only just begun to get to know them." Severus grumbles.

"I do have to say that your harsh crack down on the house rivalry has certainly stopped many confrontations. How did you get them all to stop?" Pomona asks, this is just genuine curiosity.

"Hmm? I expected more fighting, at least at first. Maybe it's because I forced the conflicting houses together. They are starting to realize stereotypes do not make the person. Over time, I believe that will extend to blood status as well. There will always be disparity in society, but blood should not be one of the reasons why."

"And why is that, Anthony?" Pomona prompts.

"In the end, if you were to bleed, and I were to bleed. Would our blood look any different?"

The silence that hits the High Table opens an opportunity, he takes it. "Demon blood looks almost black. But all humans bleed red. I've seen a lot of blood in my line of work. I've met good devils, and I've met ones that deserve nothing more than to be turned into dust. The same could be said about humans, there is good and bad, depending on how you define those morally. What counts is the actions you take in your lifetime. I could care less about who they are and what their blood type is." Dante chortles at their expressions, his laughter catching the attention of the students.

"So...what you are essentially saying, is that the way of our society means absolutely nothing to you?" Minerva's gaze is scrutinizing him.

"Yep." He even pops the P for emphasis.

"Filthy American. Our society is great because of the way it is! Muggleborns always try to change everything! They deserve to be looked down upon!" Umbridge screeches.

"Umbridge, let me ask you this one, very important question. I think I've asked it before...probably. Have any of you ever bothered to try immersing new blood in your society? Teaching them how to interact with their magically raised peers? Telling them why certain laws and patterns have been made as they have been? Or do you just throw them into it and say 'good luck, keep your head down and shut up'?" He's blatantly criticizing them, his scorn clear in his tone no matter how easy his voice sounds.

He sounds preachy...good gods. He's become a teacher! An honest to god old man! He'll never hear the end of it-

The girls must never know of this.

The silence continues. "Hmmm. Between classes and Quidditch practices, when do you think we could fit the time in to truly teach those who were not raised in our society learning the old traditions and etiquette?"

"How about you have the kids book the pitch times up until the first weekend of November in advance, leaving time slots in the pre-arranged schedule open for these seminars. Or, you could use the meal hours. Everyone is here at the same times, and there's enough space for everyone to move around if need be. No one spends the full weekend hours eating anyways." Septima points out.

"You should restrict flying hours to Quidditch related activities only." Umbridge demands.

They stare at her. "Children can't spend all day cooped up inside, Dolores. They need to run free sometimes, and flying is the perfect way to burn off the extra energy after sitting inside." Rolanda rebukes her.

"It is an unnecessary activity to learning." Umbridge was sadly serious with her words.

"It is the responsibility of the students to use their time wisely, Dolores. If they feel they have the time to go flying, or if they just need some time to collect their thoughts and freshen their eyes, then that is their right." Minerva lectures the hideous woman.

Umbridge fumes. "Hey, Umbridge. When you're stressed, what do you do to unwind?" Dante cuts in.

She balks, pausing for a moment. "I sit with a cup of tea and a book."

"Now, if you were to have those taken from you, all you could do was work or sleep, how would you feel?" Dante puts it into perspective.

She looks at him stupidly. "No one can take that away from me. I'm a Ministry official." She smugly states.

Dante groans. "She's a lost cause, too stupid to realize what I'm trying to say..." He sighs, as if it was something tragic he was talking about.

Severus raises an eyebrow at him. He just sighs, he leans back in his chair, thinking about how he'd pull his Final Exam. Would they let him set up in the Forbidden Forest? Wait. What about Fortuna Island? He bet they haven't even set into the forest to try cleaning up yet! Oh this would be perfect. He needs to make phone calls, and start drawing. He should finish the Hunger Games to, that book was giving him way too many ideas. Hmm, the area where he claimed Gilgamesh could work? Hmm, but this arena would need to be big. He'd work it out. Nico could help him design the specifics. "What are you thinking about? Your smirk looked almost sadistic..." Poppy cuts into his thoughts.

"Oh, well. The Final Exam for my class. I wanted it to be a full survival scheme, and I've been thinking. Fortuna Island is a magically restricted and hidden island, it's large enough that the Mitis Forest could have an arena set up inside of it to conduct the initial tests, or using the entire island as the test. Of course, I'd need permission and then construction could be started. And it's not like the test grounds would be wasted, since I'm sure the disbandment of the Order of the Sword won't last forever." He grins.

"Fortuna Island was closed off because of their silly devil worshipping." Pomona huffs.

"Yeah well, the devil they worshipped wasn't a bad one." Dante sighs.

"What?"

"None of you read up on Sparda huh?"

"Any texts involving demonic nonsense are banned in Britain! All for the betterment of our society." Umbridge smugly croaks.

He really wants to kill this bitch. "Umbridge, you can't hide from demons. It's just not possible." He sighs.

"Demons. Don't. Exist."

He glares at her. "Umbridge, you'll eat your words." He's the smug one now.

She can't stand not knowing what he does, and he's made it clear he knows more than she does.

"Stop this childishness at once, Anthony. There is no need to antagonize your coworkers." Dumbledore lectures him.

What about her!? Ah whatever. He'll just go blow off some steam in the RoR. What he wouldn't give to have her die in there, but the castle wouldn't allow it. Hogwarts was too kind like that. "We will talk about Fortuna as a Final Exam destination later." Dumbledore adds.

Meh, good enough for him. "The Minister will never allow it." Umbridge purrs, or, it sounds like she attempted it, but all that came out was a horrible phlegm sound...ugh.