Harry Potter: Dragonborn comes

"Decrees, Shadows, and Silent Guardians"

That same afternoon, following the brutal verbal clash between Einar and Umbridge, a headline shook the wizarding world.

"MASS ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN," screamed the front pages of every newspaper, the chaotic black letters spilling over like ink from a shattered bottle. Several magical photographs displayed the distorted faces of notorious Death Eaters—among them, Bellatrix Lestrange, cousin of Sirius Black.

The Daily Prophet, always quick to twist reality, wasted no time seizing the opportunity. Alongside the images of the escape, a photo series showed Sirius walking through a London street, visibly irritated, shielding his face from magical cameras. A bold caption read:

"Sirius Black: Traitor in the Shadows?"

The article claimed the Ministry would launch an official investigation, subtly pointing at his familial connection to the fugitive.

The message was clear: blaming someone was easier than admitting the Dark Lord had returned.

Harry exploded upon reading it.

"They can't do this to Sirius! Not again!" he shouted, standing so abruptly he knocked his chair over, then bolting toward the dormitory exit, eyes blazing with fury.

Hermione, alarmed, immediately sent word to Einar. He appeared in the common room moments later, his expression unreadable, calm as ever.

Without a word, he raised his hand—and with the precision of a northern hunter, struck Harry softly at the nape with his knuckles. The boy collapsed to the floor, more from shock than pain.

"I told you not to act without thinking," Einar said, his voice low but firm—like the crack of ice under pressure.

"But they're accusing Sirius! They say he helped her escape! That he's going back to Azkaban!" Harry protested, fists clenched in helpless rage.

"Twelve years in that tomb of a prison… do you really think he's afraid to return?" Einar replied, his gaze piercing Harry like a blade of frost.

"And do you believe they'll send him back just because a paper says so? The Ministry fools still don't know who they're dealing with."

Harry's rage dulled, replaced by heavy silence.

"Sirius may be reckless, but he has experience—far more than you. What were you planning to do, Harry? Storm into the Ministry with a protest sign?"

Einar then pulled out a bluish crystal orb, its runes glowing gently with mana, and handed it to Harry.

"Use this. It's linked to the Order of the Phoenix base. Speak to him, find out what's really happening… and stop acting like a hero without a cause."

Harry held the orb carefully, his breathing still uneven.

"If you do something stupid again without thinking, you'll deal with the consequences alone. I won't defend you… unless you're truly in danger. Got it?"

"...Yes," Harry muttered, lowering his head slightly.

"Thanks," he added, lifting the orb.

"Watch him," Einar said to Hermione, who nodded at once. Then he walked away down the hall, his steps calm and heavy, like a frost-covered giant fading into the mist.

…

The next day, Hogwarts trembled under a new storm of pink tyranny.

Dolores Umbridge had been named High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.

With that title came absolute authority: to impose decrees, create rules, evaluate professors, and even fire them. New posters flooded the Great Hall's walls.

The boldest one read:

"Teachers are strictly forbidden from interacting with students outside of necessary academic duties."

It was a calculated strike. A direct assault not only on Einar but on anyone who dared to oppose the Ministry's script.

Einar's reaction? None. Not a twitch. Not a word.

…

His class was the first to be evaluated. Umbridge sat in a corner like a poisonous toad with a quill, ready to ruin reputations with her sickly sweet words.

Einar didn't even glance her way.

His voice remained firm, drawing the students into a world of real danger and knowledge.

"Today… you'll learn how to properly defend yourselves against a vampire. Not the kind from fairy tales. The real ones. The ones that breathe darkness."

To everyone's surprise, Umbridge didn't interrupt.

Perhaps, Einar thought with a flicker of sarcasm, her hatred for half-breeds extended to vampires as well.

"What do we know so far?" he asked, arms crossed.

Hermione, as always, raised her hand.

"Vampires use a form of dark magic linked to blood and necromancy. Their fangs and claws are lethal, and their hypnotic abilities can overpower even adults. It's best to avoid combat unless properly equipped."

"Weaknesses?" Einar continued.

"Garlic, sunlight, fire… and starvation. The longer they go without feeding, the weaker they become."

Harry raised his hand quickly and added with a grin:

"They're also pretty useless without a head."

The class burst into laughter. Einar didn't mind—humor helped memory.

"Not just vampires. Many creatures are quite helpless without a head," he said dryly, closing the topic.

"That's all. Dismissed."

Just as students began packing up, Einar turned to Neville and Harry:

"And how's the assignment I gave you both?"

Before either could respond, an all-too-familiar and detestable cough echoed.

"Ahem."

It was Umbridge.

Harry and Neville turned, clearly annoyed.

"I do hope that was a conversation about schoolwork," she said, voice dripping with false sweetness.

"According to Educational Decree Number Twenty-Three, teachers are not to engage with students outside academic topics."

"Perhaps none of your previous teachers—or current ones, with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell—would've passed a Ministry inspection," she added venomously.

Harry narrowed his eyes. With a smile as sharp as his words, he replied:

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher… except for that tiny inconvenience of having Lord Voldemort sticking out the back of his head."

The silence that followed was like a gathering storm. Umbridge flushed red with fury.

"Potter! Report to my office this afternoon. You've earned yourself detention!" she barked, spinning on her heel and storming off.

Harry looked at Professor Einar, waiting for a reaction.

"You really need to work on that bad habit of speaking before you think," Einar said without changing his tone.

"If something strange happens during your punishment... come to me."

With that, he picked up his things and walked away.

Harry sighed in frustration.

This time, he couldn't blame anyone. He had really brought it on himself.

…

With Umbridge enforcing her absurd rules, Hogwarts felt more like a prison with each passing day.

The new regulations—led by the infamous order that "no teacher may interact with students outside strictly academic matters"—had even forced Professor Einar to temporarily suspend all combat training. Theoretical lessons were now his only option... for now.

Still, the students weren't about to sit around and do nothing.

That very afternoon, in a discreet corner of Hogsmeade, a group of students gathered at the Hog's Head Inn. The air was heavy with tension—but also determination. The news of the Death Eater escape had shaken the foundation of their safety, and the Ministry's inaction was more terrifying than the chaos itself.

"We need someone to train us," said Hermione, looking around the room with a serious expression. "We can't rely solely on what we're taught in class. This goes beyond that."

"And who better than Harry?" Dean added. "He trained with Professor Einar over the holidays. We've seen him face things most of us couldn't even imagine."

Neville nodded, though he didn't look entirely confident.

To be fair, Neville had also been taken under Einar's wing, and his improvement was obvious. But public perception still cast him as the clumsy kid of the past—while Harry... well, he was Harry Potter.

Murmurs of agreement filled the room. No one objected.

Meanwhile, outside, leaning against a stone wall with his arms crossed, Einar looked up at the sky. His dark cloak swayed in the afternoon breeze as his eyes scanned the area, ensuring no one was following his students.

He knew exactly what they were doing. And while it technically wasn't allowed… he had no intention of stopping them.

On the contrary—if anyone was going to watch over them, it would be him.

But, as if the universe conspired against them, a new decree appeared the next day:

Educational Decree No. 24:

"The formation of clubs, groups, teams, or any kind of student organization is strictly prohibited without the express approval of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor."

As soon as students saw the notice on the walls, anxious glances were exchanged.

Einar, on the other hand, read it for a second… then kept walking without a flicker of expression. He didn't have time to worry about scraps of paper.

It was then, while turning down an empty corridor, that he heard it—a sob. One that felt familiar.

With quick steps, he approached the room the sound was coming from. When he opened the door, he saw her: Fleur Delacour, sitting on the floor by the window, eyes shut and hands covering her face.

She startled the moment she saw him.

"P-Professor…" she whispered, quickly hiding behind her hands again.

Einar frowned and walked over to her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his tone a bit harsh—though not directed at her.

It sounded more like his anger had already found a target… and that target wore pink.

"N-nothing," Fleur answered hastily, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

But Einar didn't speak. He simply watched her in silence—his firm gaze cutting through the room like an arrow.

"It's nothing. Just that… Umbridge said I shouldn't be here. That I'm useless—even if I offer my help for free. That I'm only here to seduce students, that I'm disgusting... a half-breed trying to win affection from men…" Fleur's voice cracked.

"She said I should go home and stay there. Like a good little veela..."

The last words dissolved into a quiet sob.

Fleur was normally strong. But those words had struck her where it hurt most.

Because deep down… Umbridge wasn't entirely wrong.

Fleur had come to Hogwarts for one reason: Einar.

And ever since Umbridge arrived, that reason had turned into a nightmare.

She watched her. Judged her. Made her feel filthy for having emotions. And worst of all, she couldn't even talk to Einar without risking punishment.

Then she felt him move.

He took off his mask—the Vokun mask.

And with unexpected gentleness, he placed it over her face, carefully shielding her expression.

His large hand came to rest on her head, tousling her hair with a mix of awkwardness and comfort.

"Why do you care what that abomination says?" he asked, his voice strangely soft, his gaze calm.

"And why does it matter why you're here? Do you think every professor came out of pure love for teaching? Even that repulsive woman is only here to attack Dumbledore."

Fleur didn't respond, but she didn't move either as he completely messed up her hair.

"Professor Einar… you're ruining my hair," she murmured, her voice a little more alive now—though barely audible under the mask.

Thankfully, he had put it on her… because if he saw her face now, flushed as it was, she might've fainted on the spot.

Einar looked at her a moment longer. Her hair now resembled the nest of a particularly wild phoenix.

He lifted his hand once more, this time slower.

"Just do what you believe is right. Don't listen to her. She won't be around much longer."

With that, he gave her one last look—calm, gentle, almost protective—and walked off down the hallway.

Fleur watched him leave without saying a word. Then, slowly, she removed the mask and looked at her reflection in the windowpane.

Her cheeks were glowing, and her eyes sparkled.

"Why do you do this…? You're only making me fall even more, you idiot," she whispered, hugging the mask with a silly smile.

What she hadn't realized yet…

Was that it was his mask—the one he had been wearing seconds before.

When she found out…

But that… is another story.

—---

Author's Note:

As you might have noticed, I skipped ahead a few chapters from what would be the book's original sequence. Honestly, those parts were a bit slow and not particularly exciting, so I'm considering drawing more directly from the movies to summarize and speed things up a little.

I'm eager to get the real action started.

What do you all think?