Hogwarts in Red

Kaneki has lost against Arima. However, instead of becoming a ghoul investigator, Arima has others plans, and sends him to Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft undercover to protect a certain Harry Potter. Nothing can be worse than being trapped inside a magical castle, right?

Chapter One — Submission

A/N : Okay, so this is a Hogwarts AU, and this follows the ANIME plot, not the MANGA one because I've only watched the anime. Since Kaneki is a little too old to be a student, he will be assigned as a teaching assistant for DADA. This story takes place in Harry's fifth year (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix), however, the original HP plot line might be slightly altered. Like, I might switch the chronological order of events, or add an mini event of my own that will generally not change the outcome.

This story has not been edited or proofread. All mistakes are either typos or a result of the author's incompetence/sleepiness. Looking for consecutive and criticising reviews that will provide good feedback for me to improve.

Kaneki lay on the ground, breathing heavily. He couldn't feel his limbs anymore. In fact, he couldn't feel his entire body. The cold spread, from his abdomen to his arms and feet, freezing him in place until he was completely paralysed. Move, goddamit! Move! His fingers twitched slightly, but beyond that, nothing happened. It was all silent, except for Kaneki's rasping breaths as oxygen rattled in his dead lungs.

Why wasn't he moving?

It was so cold.

The blood kept pouring, red and fresh on the snow where he had collapsed. The cold dragged him down, heavy as chains. I don't stand a chance against someone like Arima, he thought sluggishly, as he tried to get up, failing miserably. I have to get to Hide. I have to protect Touka and everyone in Anteiku. I have to move. Get up get up get up! His limbs were rejecting his commands, silently locked together. Kaneki glared up at Arima, who stood as impassive as ever, not a speck of blood on his pristine white coat. He had hoped to convey all his hatred through his kakugan, but blackness crowded his vision, and he had to fall limply back into the soft, cold snow.

Hatred was such a useful emotion.

The falling flakes settled on his ripped black suit, kissing his exposed skin, and the cold intensified. He had to be shivering. Why wasn't he shivering? Why couldn't anyone else feel the cold?

"Do you submit?" Arima asked, still standing over him.

Kaneki gritted his teeth, and willed the cold away. Fight! Incredibly, some feeling was cold was sapping his strength away, but his kagune was starting to tremble underneath him. He couldn't feel them, only the slight vibrations.

"Never," he breathed, the whisper falling from his chapped and frozen lips, but infinitely loud in his ears. He struggled upwards, slipping more than once on the red snow, but eventually the cold left his body, replaced by the burning will, and he was free to move. The wound on his abdomen, still gapingly large and oozing blood, now no longer hurt.

He had been pass the point of pain a long time ago.

He stayed in the kneeling position, white head bowed down, in front of Arima. It almost appeared as if he was begging him. Then, suddenly, his kagune whipped forward, crimson and white in their glory.

Arima had not moved an inch, instead calmly dispatching his quinque, deflecting all the blows at lightning speed and striking Kaneki once again. He could not dodge, as his body spasmed in protest from the immense blood loss and the wracking agony that he did not feel. He was numb.

He had been numb for a long time.

"Do you submit?"

Kaneki shook his head, as if clearing the residue centipedes clouding his mind. "Never," he mouthed, falling against the blanket of snow again, eye staring sightlessly at the drifting snow and the sapphire blue sky. So cold.

The cold invaded him, starting from the abdomen. He was so cold. He could not move. Too cold.

The flickering darkness against his eyelids, they seemed welcoming. He could be warm.

Never.

He didn't get up again.

—

The next time he woke up, a spotless white ceiling greeted him. The soft bed underneath him was unfamiliar, and he quickly jerked upwards, ready to strike at any sign of danger, only to find out that he could not.

His hands and legs were chained to the bed. Simple steel cuffs designed to restrict movement. His breath caught, the memories rushing through his head—scratched skin, blood in a bucket, dripping on the ground, fingers here and gone, centipedes in my ears—

What's one thousand minus seven?

Crackle of knuckles.

His laugh.

His scream.

The floor was red.

Nine hundred and ninety three.

My fingers are gone.

The voices rose into a crescendo, until he was clutching his head, trying to free himself—

"Mr. Kaneki." The emotionless and blank voice of Arima brought him back to the present, as he composed himself, closing his eyes to blink the images away.

Blood.

"Why am I still alive?" Kaneki intoned softly with a touch of genuine curiosity and sadistic humour. This wasn't mercy. Mercy wasn't chaining up an enemy.

Arima didn't bat an eyelash. Kaneki noticed his ever present suitcase next to him, out of arm's reach. "I will be straightforward with you, Mr. Kaneki. You will have two options." Arima continued, as if Kaneki hadn't said anything. "One, you can join CCG."

Kaneki wondered if he had heard it correct. Or maybe Arima was insane, just like him, because there was no way they'd accept a ghoul into their forces, much less an SS-rated one.

"Of course, we will have to wipe your memories away. If you are not comfortable with this arrangement, there is always the other option." Kaneki's eyes snapped up to meet Arima's. The man was being completely serious. When had he not been serious?

He was so messed up. They were both so messed up. A ghoul becoming a dove.

He had a feeling the second option would be even more bizarre.

A ghoul becoming a dove? That'll happen when Hell freezes over.

Kaneki caught the twinkle in the man's otherwise empty eyes. It was not a good twinkle. "You can head for England and attend the Hogwart's School of Wizardry and Witchcraft, as an undercover assistant professor."

Kaneki blinked again.

Alright. He had to do something about his hearing problems, because no way—wizardry and witchcraft? Magic?

Magic didn't exist.

Arima was missing some marbles.

Yet a part of his mind, the book loving and idealistic Kaneki Ken whom he thought he had squashed forever, whispered, If ghouls can exist, why not magic?

"Magic is not real, Mr. Arima."

"These are your choices, Mr. Kaneki."

"What if I refuse?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

Kaneki remained still. Losing his memories…that sounded good. He wouldn't have to remember any of his torture, remember being a ghoul, remember the blood on his hands. Then he thought of Hide, and thought, No. I cannot ever erase Hide from my mind. Nor could he erase Anteiku or Aogiri. They were part of him, however he wished otherwise. Take it all away, and he was nothing but an empty shell.

Besides, he'd make for a pretty bad investigator. Why was he even thinking about this?

Magic and witchcraft? Ridiculous.

Kaneki knew he was definitely insane when he whispered, "Tell me more about the magic school."

—

By the time Arima finished speaking, Kaneki knew he was in deep trouble. Aside from the fact he had no idea what he would be doing, he would now be in a completely new environment. However, he kept his face as neutral as possible.

"Are you clear about the mission?"

Kaneki deflected the question. "What makes you so confident that I won't run away?"

Arima merely raised an eyebrow.

Kaneki stared forlornly at his chains, refusing to look at Arima.

"If you have no questions, your mission starts now. I shall accompany you to Hogwarts and help you get acquainted."

Arima unlocked the cuffs, and Kaneki shook his wrists and ankles, relishing the freedom. "Come."

Kaneki gracefully drew himself from the bed, and followed Arima without protest.

—

It was rather hard to believe why a castle was made into a school, but Kaneki spared no thought at it, barely glancing at Hogwarts once before returning to his former job of analysing his surroundings. There was a dense forest next to the castle, and Kaneki could feel and smell the numerous life forms and the stench of blood. Hm.

Arima had told him to wear a robe over his form fitting bodysuit, seeing that he needed to be ready at all times. Donning the robe on, he felt quite silly as the rough and coarse fabric settled over his shoulders. "You'll be an assistant professor," Arima told him. "Defense Against the Dark Arts."

I'm a monster. Ghouls are monsters. Monsters are dark arts. Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Basically I'm teaching them to defend themselves from me.

The sheer wryness of the situation made him chuckle.

They stepped into the interior of Hogwarts. The students hadn't arrived yet, since Kaneki had to be introduced to Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the only soul in the school to know his true identity.

They went up winding staircases, the portraits (he ignored them) staring and pointing at him. Or Arima. Whichever. He didn't really care.

Nine hundred and eighty six.

Their footsteps echoed in the halls as they ascended to Dumbledore's office. The old wizard was inside. Arima knocked, and Kaneki trailed behind him.

"Dumbledore." Arima bowed stiffly, and Kaneki followed suite. The old man's eyes twinkled. "Ah, Arima! I haven't seen you for a while." His gaze moved towards Kaneki. If he was shocked at his mask, the surprise didn't show. "And this fine young man is…"

"Kaneki Ken."

"So you'll be the new assistant professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Please, have a lemon drop."

The headmaster was trying him.

Kaneki declined.

"To cut to the chase…" Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "I believe you are a Ghoul, Mr. Kaneki?"

Kaneki nodded affirmation, seeing no need to expose his half ghoul status.

"And you are willing to protect Harry Potter?"

More like coerced. Or forced.

"Yes."

"Good that's settled. As for your eating diet, I will arrange someone to transpose your food to you. Your room will be on the seventh floor. Is that alright?"

Kaneki dipped his head.

"I shall bid my leave now. Dumbledore. Mr. Kaneki." Kaneki did not miss the glance tossed his way as his only link to Tokyo disappeared.

"Now then, Mr. Kaneki." Dumbledore laced his fingers. "Shall we introduce you to the other professors before the students arrive?"

—

Minerva McGonagall had seen many strange things. Growing up in a wizard community tended to do that. But nothing was stranger than the young man standing in front of her, silvery white hair shielding his eyes as Dumbledore introduced him.

"My dear teachers, may we please include Mr. Kaneki Ken into our teaching ranks. He will serve as an assistant teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts and anything else that needs a substitute."

Kaneki's head rose up, and Minerva had to hold back a shiver at the flat, dead eyes. His presence itself was screaming danger and fear. "I was not aware of that arrangement. I only specialise in Defence and martial arts." His voice was soft and cold, so soft that she had to strain her ears to hear. But the blank and empty tone chilled her to bone, and once again she wondered why Albus would assign someone like this to teach students. And what had happened to make such a young man so hollow.

"Oh, it doesn't matter, Mr. Kaneki." Dumbledore brushed the statement away.

"Excuse me, I was not aware there was a teacher's meeting—oh!" Minerva gritted her teeth. It was that annoying pink toad again. Her voice filled with arrogance as she glanced at Kaneki, whose head was down again, "And who might this be?"

"The new assistant professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor Umbridge."

Umbridge frowned."The Ministry is not aware of this."

The Ministry this, the Ministry that.

Oh, how she hated this woman.

"The arrangements were made hastily yesterday. Mr. Kaneki had just made his decision to join us."

"What's your name then? You look nothing more than a boy." Umbridge sniffed.

"Kaneki Ken." He replied in his dull tone, showing no anger at the premonition of being called a boy. Minerva was surprised at his self control. Weren't teenagers supposed to be angsty and emotional? And for once Umbridge was correct, he looked like a boy in his late teens.

For a moment, silence fell upon the group of teachers. Then Umbridge resumed her questioning at Kaneki, who never answered more than a few sentences.

"Where do you come from?"

"Tokyo, Japan."

"How old are you?" "Twenty."

"Why do you wear that horrifying mask?"

"Old tradition."

This continued for a while, until Umbridge was fed up with the amount of information she was getting.

"Alright." Umbridge drew her attention away from Kaneki, and haughtily stared at the other teachers. "Now, as said, I am a representation of the Ministry here to ensure that students in Hogwarts are receiving a Ministry-approved educational course…" and Minerva began to tune out. She'd heard all this from the Minister himself already, in a lower pitch.

She instead started to study Kaneki. His hair glowed silver underneath the flickering candle lights, and his visible eye was still shielded by his hair strands. The mask he was wearing did draw stares, but he ignored all of them. It covered one eye and the lower half of his face, made of some black material. A grotesque smile stretched wide open, showing the gums and the teeth, and it had a zipper over it, she noticed. The robe he wore was loose and fluttered around him. His hands were hidden amongst the robe folds, but as he shifted, Minerva caught a glimpse of the pale hand and the inky black fingernails.

She had a feeling that those fingernails were more than a fashion statement.

His feet were encased with black leather…boots? She couldn't tell. Around his ankles encircled silver circles.

After Umbridge finished her little speech, Minerva still hadn't gotten a single read on the boy. Albus stood up, clapping, and others reluctantly following, except for Kaneki, who hadn't even moved, silent as a statue.

The teachers dispersed, and Minerva was just ready to go down and greet the first years when Dumbledore placed a hand on her should amicably and said, "Minerva, could you show Kaneki his room? It's up in the seventh floor." There was only one room there.

Minerva nodded. "Follow me." She walked out of the room, hearing the slow thud of Kaneki's footsteps as it echoed behind her, causing her to jump slightly.

He's just a teaching assistant, barely an adult. There's nothing to be afraid of. She tried reassuring her thumping heart, to no avail.

The way up to seventh floor was silent. No words were exchanged, save the 'thank you' Kaneki murmured when they arrived his room, a small but comfortable lodge. "If you need anything, ring the bell." She instructed, pointing at the small golden device hanging next to the bed. By then, Kaneki was already shrugging off his robe with an expression she could best describe as distaste, his first emotion, and she was rather shocked to see the clothing underneath—it wasn't exactly Muggle-like, but you didn't see a tight form fitting black bodysuit on the streets of Diagon Alley often.

Kaneki raised an eyebrow at her staring, and she hurried away.

A/N : Mini spoiler—Kaneki will be meeting the Order during Christmas, not summer. A minor plot change.