Christmas Misunderstandings
I spent over an hour trying to create an image of Einar's clothing... and in the end, I gave up!
So you'll have to settle for the images I have here. But don't worry, they're enough to give you a fairly clear idea.
I also realize that sometimes I forget to play around with the differences between the customs of Skyrim and the magical world.
...…..
"Have you noticed that Malfoy hasn't shown up to bother us like he always does for the past few days?" Ron asked as he walked alongside Hermione and Harry through the corridors of Hogwarts.
"You didn't hear?" Hermione replied, immediately catching Harry's attention as well.
"His mother came to withdraw him from school a few days ago. Apparently, something happened with his father. According to what I overheard between Pansy Parkinson's sobs in the bathrooms, they moved to the United States and Malfoy will be transferring to Ilvermorny."
Her voice was quick and precise, as if delivering very important news.
"Are you serious?" Ron asked, with a gleam of excitement and joy in his voice.
"Yes," Hermione confirmed seriously.
"Did you hear that, Harry?" Ron said, unable to contain his enthusiasm.
"We'll never have to put up with that arrogant idiot Malfoy again!" he exclaimed, while Harry nodded with a broad smile.
Suddenly, Ron stared at Hermione and said:
"Now that I think about it, Hermione... your teeth look different, even from before Malfoy's curse. They're straight and normal-sized now."
Hermione smiled with a slightly mischievous air before replying:
"Yeah... I took advantage while Madam Pomfrey was shrinking them, and, well... I might have 'forgotten' to mention the exact size I wanted. So she kept shrinking them a bit more than necessary."
Harry and Ron exchanged amused smiles.
"Although... my parents will probably be upset," Hermione added, rolling her eyes.
"I've been trying for years to convince them to let me get my teeth reduced. You know... they're dentists, and they believe that magic and dentistry shouldn't mix..."
But she didn't finish, because suddenly her eyes widened slightly.
"Look! It's Professor Einar!" she exclaimed.
The three of them turned around.
There, standing in the middle of the hallway, Einar loomed with an imposing presence.
A dense black mist swirled around him, and from it slowly emerged a dark sword, descending into his hand before the mist dissipated as if it had never been there.
Einar, who had already noticed them long before, calmly turned towards them and offered a serene, slight smile.
"Professor, what was that?" Harry asked, approaching with his friends.
"You can think of it like a house-elf... but a much darker one," Einar replied with a chilling calmness.
Hermione, who had previously seen Dren, the being summoned by Einar, trembled slightly, recalling the oppressive and dark feeling that creature exuded.
"That sword looks amazing..." Ron said, utterly fascinated, unable to tear his gaze away from the black blade resting in Einar's hand, as if it were trying to whisper into his mind.
"Didn't I teach in class that you should be careful with objects that attract your attention too much?" Einar said firmly, moving the sword away from Ron's sight, snapping him out of his trance with his words.
"Is that sword cursed?" Hermione quickly asked, instinctively stepping back.
"Yes... well, more or less," Einar replied calmly as he slid the sword into a black scabbard that extinguished the blade's eerie glow.
"This sword tempts its wielder to kill their closest friends and family... to make them stronger."
Ron swallowed hard and took a small step back, almost hiding behind Harry.
"Why would you carry something that dangerous with you?" Ron asked, both curious and alarmed.
"...Because its job is done. And it's time to return it," Einar answered so serenely that it sent chills down the three friends' spines.
Then Einar looked at them sharply, as if he could see right through their skin.
"If I'm not mistaken," he added, "Sirius should be waiting for you at Hagrid's hut, Harry."
"What? Why didn't he tell me?!" Harry exclaimed, surprised.
Just then, a small, clumsy, and struggling owl appeared, trying to stay in the air while carrying a letter almost bigger than itself.
It was Pigwidgeon, Ron's hyperactive owl.
"Looks like your notice is arriving," Einar commented with a slight smile.
Then, as he stored the cursed sword into a small pouch at his waist, he added, "Let's go. Hagrid needs another 'fashion consultant' for the ball."
...…..
The next day, Einar woke up.
It was Christmas already, and snow was falling gently outside.
He walked into the living room of his quarters, stopping when he saw it was full of gifts.
There were so many that it was clear they weren't just from students but also from some professors.
Einar looked at the mountain of packages and couldn't help but feel tired already.
He would have to send thank-you gifts to everyone.
"I'll just tell Dren to send them an enchanted ring with fatigue resistance..." he murmured calmly, noticing that almost all the students had sent him something.
From the smell lingering in the air, he guessed several gifts were homemade snacks.
However, a faint scent of potion among them made him suspect that some students had other plans in mind.
He was about to ignore the gifts for now and deal with them later when a package with golden sparkles caught his attention, making him stop and take a few steps back.
The wrapping looked like old papyrus, but the soft golden glow immediately reminded him of the person who had sent it.
Plus, the aura lingering on the package left no doubt"it came from someone very familiar.
With a slight note of caution, Einar tore open the papyrus.
Inside, he found a small wooden jewelry box.
He observed it for a few seconds with a thoughtful expression before opening it.
Upon seeing what it contained, his face showed no emotion.
He calmly closed the box and rubbed his head with a mildly annoyed gesture.
"Now that I think about it... Sophie is always praying to Mara," he murmured to himself.
"And according to some religions, Mara is either Akatosh's wife... or Lorkhan's... or both..."
Sighing, Einar stored the box filled with blessing amulets.
For now, he had no interest in examining them.
⋯⋯⋯
"A gold ring?" Hermione said when she saw the gift she had just received.
Her heart was pounding like a runaway train as she looked at the sender.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked when he saw his friend frozen, holding the open gift in her hands.
"Nothing... it's nothing," Hermione replied hastily, nervously hiding the small golden ring behind her back.
Her eyes darted around, unable to focus.
"Have you seen Professor Einar's gift yet?" Harry insisted as he opened his own package.
"Yes," Hermione said, wishing Harry would drop the subject.
Then Harry pulled out a golden ring, identical to Hermione's, wearing a puzzled expression.
He opened the attached letter and read it aloud:
"Enchanted ring with resistance. Wearing it will grant you a slight strength boost."
"Awesome!" he exclaimed with a smile.
Hermione stood there, stunned, as she saw Harry had received the same gift.
She quickly picked up the letter that had fallen to the floor when she was surprised, and upon reading it, confirmed that it said almost the exact same thing.
Her nervous expression quickly shifted into a storm of annoyance.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, feeling as though a cold breeze had suddenly slipped through the windows.
"Nothing. Mind your own business!" Hermione snapped, turning sharply and stomping off toward her dormitory.
Before getting too far, she came back, picked up the empty package and wrapping paper she had left on the floor, and then stormed away.
⋯⋯⋯
Meanwhile, inside one of Beauxbatons' luxurious carriages, a very similar scene was unfolding.
After a moment, Fleur Delacour stepped out of the carriage with flushed cheeks, needing some fresh air.
"Right... he's from another country..." she muttered to herself, trying to calm her embarrassment.
"Maybe giving rings doesn't mean the same thing where he's from..."
She lifted her hand and looked at the golden ring she had received, letting out a silly giggle.
Curiously, similar scenes were happening all around the castle.
Luckily, there was always someone nearby to clarify the confusion: Professor Einar was not proposing marriage.
Only then did the chaos subside, though many hearts had a rough time.
After all, Einar had mentioned several times that he came from a very different place with its own customs.
And well... it was true.
In Skyrim, marriage proposals required wearing amulets blessed by Mara"amulets like the ones now resting forgotten inside Einar's magic bag.
⋯⋯⋯
Later, Einar went down to the dining hall looking for something to eat but was stopped in the hallway by Professor McGonagall, who looked at him with a mixture of seriousness and exasperation.
Still, remembering where Einar came from, she forced herself to stay calm.
"Professor Einar," she began firmly. "First of all, Merry Christmas. And second, thank you for the gift"it's quite interesting and unique."
She paused briefly.
"However, I must remind you that in Great Britain, and much of the world, giving someone a gold ring is usually interpreted as a marriage proposal.
Many students ended up crying when they realized it was just a Christmas gift.
I would kindly ask you to be more careful in the future."
Einar blinked, astonished.
"I see... I deeply apologize, then."
He bowed his head respectfully.
"In my homeland, marriage proposals are done differently.
Rings, necklaces, and earrings are commonly used as enchanted tools to enhance physical, magical, and health attributes."
McGonagall nodded, barely holding back a smile.
"I figured as much," she said.
"You should try to learn more about our customs, Professor.
We wouldn't want you to accidentally marry the entire school," she added, letting out a teasing chuckle before walking away.
"Next time... I'll give them enchanted weapons," Einar muttered to himself.
Behind him, McGonagall paused briefly, sighed in resignation... and continued on her way.
.....
In the afternoon, the courtyard turned into a true battlefield: an endless snowball fight broke out among the students.
What was interesting was that, thanks to the improved physical condition and reflexes following Einar's arrival, the fight was much more intense and fun than in previous years.
The kids dodged and counterattacked with everything they had, as if it were a real war.
At five o'clock, the girls left to get ready for the ball, leaving the boys immersed in their chaotic battle.
The war continued until seven, when, sweaty, muddy, and exhausted, everyone finally dragged themselves to the baths, still laughing and joking about their epic victories and falls.
For a moment, it was as if they had all become kids again.
...….
Einar, for his part, was preparing for the ball with his usual meticulousness.
He wore a white long-sleeved tunic as a base layer"simple yet elegant.
Over it, he wore a teal-blue vest made of fine leather or thick fabric, adorned with Nordic patterns embroidered along the edges, highlighting the color of his eyes.
Over everything, he wore a majestic white fur cloak, likely from some arctic animal, draped over his shoulders.
The cloak was fastened with a finely crafted golden brooch, giving him an air of nobility and strength.
Around his neck hung an amulet with a special symbol, further reinforcing his image as a warrior of ancient blood.
All his clothing was enchanted to be comfortable, light, and resistant, suitable for any unexpected situation.
For the first time in a long while, Einar decided to attend without his mask.
He calmly removed it and, as a safety measure, wore discreet black pearl earrings enchanted to muffle his screams in case of extreme surprise.
He didn't want to risk sending his dance partner flying by accident if something startled him.
Of course, as long as he stayed focused, nothing should happen... but better safe than sorry.
He wasn't exactly a fan of wearing earrings; in Skyrim, his long hair and such accessories would have earned more than a few taunts for "looking too feminine."
"McGonagall is right... I'm in a different world now.
Here, principles and customs are different," he murmured to himself, adjusting his cloak calmly.
He was no longer in a place filled with racism and prejudice.
Although the British wizarding world had its fair share of problems, it wasn't anywhere near the level of Skyrim, where being half-elf was enough to be despised in every settlement.
Finally, after finishing getting ready, Einar went out to find his dance partner, as dictated by the event's rules.
Just in case, he had previously asked Flitwick about it, to avoid making another cultural blunder like the ring situation.
He had no intention of starting the night with another misunderstanding.