"The Safest School in the World?"
Einar was in the staff room, standing by one of the windows with his arms crossed. He had just finished attending a meeting led by Professor McGonagall about the preparations for the Yule Ball, when Professor Flitwick approached him, curiosity gleaming in his small eyes.
"Einar, may I ask why you're so focused on strengthening the students? From what I've seen… it's not just about training them for competitions or friendly duels," said the tiny professor with genuine interest.
Einar glanced at him over his shoulder, his expression a mix of calm and unwavering gravity. Without a word, he reached into his enchanted bag and pulled out… the severed head of a troll. With a casual flick, he tossed it onto the stone floor with a heavy, sickening thud.
The silence that followed was absolute. Several professors instinctively took a step back at the grotesque sight.
"One night, while I was patrolling, I saw this thing coming out of the Forbidden Forest. That forest is, quite literally, just a few steps from the castle," said Einar firmly, as if merely reporting the weather.
"Well… while there may be creatures living in the forest, none usually come so close to the castle. Hogwarts is quite a safe place," McGonagall replied quickly, though the tension in her voice betrayed her confidence.
Einar raised an eyebrow, mildly amused.
"Oh, really? I heard that a couple of years ago, two of these things managed to get inside the castle… and it was three students who knocked them out. Students. Not professors."
"Well… that was because a professor had been infiltrated…" muttered Flitwick, almost ashamed.
"You do realize that doesn't make it better, right? A professor let in two trolls, and on top of that, he was possessed. Not exactly the strongest defense, Flitwick," Einar replied with a half-smile that never reached his eyes.
"I've always heard Hogwarts is the safest school in the world… I don't even want to imagine what happens in the others," he added with a mocking tone before turning on his heel.
He paused at the door, not looking back.
"I'll leave the troll's head as a souvenir. It's of no use to me."
And with that, he left.
The professors remained frozen, eyes locked on the grotesque trophy lying on the floor.
"Are we still the safest school in the world?" Flitwick asked quietly, beginning to question his own perception of Hogwarts.
"Well… technically, now we are," murmured Professor Trelawney, fascinated by the troll's head before turning her gaze toward the man who had just walked away.
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Einar was walking calmly through the corridors when he was intercepted by Fleur Delacour, who approached with natural elegance. She wore a dazzling outfit, her long platinum hair cascading like silver silk, and her Veela charm seemed to intensify with every step. Of course, Einar wasn't affected in the slightest.
"What is it?" he asked in his usual calm tone.
Fleur stopped, slightly nervous under his piercing gaze.
"I… I was wondering…"
But before she could finish her sentence, Ron Weasley stumbled onto the scene, utterly bewitched, his eyes glazed over and a thin strand of drool threatening to fall from his mouth.
"P-please… be my date for the ball," he stammered, tripping over every word as if speaking for the first time in his life.
Silence fell like a hammer. Fleur looked at him with a touch of annoyance and disdain for the interruption. Ron snapped back to reality and, completely red-faced, bolted away as if his life depended on it… not without crashing clumsily into a corner first.
Einar raised an eyebrow slightly and turned his attention back to Fleur, completely ignoring the chaos that had just occurred.
"So?" he asked, polite but direct.
"Ahem… I'd like to invite you to be my date for the Yule Ball," said Fleur, taking a deep breath and mustering her courage.
"You know I'm a professor, right?" asked Einar with a faint smile.
"Yes… but nowhere does it say that a date must be another student. Besides, the boys here can't stand being near me, or… have tried rather unpleasant things. You, on the other hand, are unaffected by my charm. You'd be the perfect partner… if you don't mind," she added, a little nervous, clearly fearing rejection.
"Hmm… Well, I should ask McGonagall first to see if it's allowed. If there are no objections… I'd be pleased to accompany you."
To him, it was just another dance. Back in Skyrim, he was already used to such invitations"often on the insistence of his daughter Sofie, who didn't take "no" for an answer.
"Great! I hope the answer is yes," said Fleur with a bright smile before nearly floating away.
Einar proceeded to teach his usual class to the fifth-year students. Once it ended, Harry entered the room visibly nervous. Under everyone's gaze, he asked to speak with Cho Chang. Einar simply watched with mild curiosity before exiting the classroom.
In the hallway, he was intercepted by Hermione, her brow furrowed and her eyes burning with a mixture of anger, sadness, and anxiety.
"Professor Einar, is it true that Fleur Delacour invited you to the Yule Ball?" she asked bluntly.
"Well… yes, it's true," Einar replied calmly.
"And did you accept?" she asked, even faster this time.
"Out of habit… yes."
A habit born in Skyrim, where his daughter forced him to accept invitations so she wouldn't unleash her silent fury for days.
"She beat me to it…" Hermione muttered bitterly, stomping the floor and storming off like a whirlwind, casting a murderous glance back.
Einar watched her leave with a faint smile.
"Who would've thought I'd be dealing with romantic drama in another plane… When back in Skyrim, Sofie did everything she could to get me married off," he said with nostalgic amusement.
Later, when he spoke with McGonagall, the professor just stared at him for a few seconds with a serious expression before responding:
"I have no objections. Technically, you're the same age. Just… don't embarrass Hogwarts in front of a Beauxbatons student. In other words… I expect you to shine."
...…
During that day's training, Einar noticed that Harry kept casting frequent"and increasingly tense"glances at Cedric. With a sigh, he walked over and gave him a light tap on the head.
"What's going on?" he asked, eyeing him with suspicion.
"Nothing… I'm just a bit distracted because of the ball," Harry replied quickly, still glancing sideways at Cedric.
Cedric, for his part, seemed completely unaware of the crossfire of stares.
Einar rubbed his forehead and sighed.
"All right, that's all for today. You have the week off. Make good use of your time."
Einar turned toward Harry before offering him a few words of encouragement he'd heard before:
"If another man looks at what you desire, don't respond with jealousy. Respond with greatness. A woman's heart isn't won with dark looks… but with actions that make her look at you."
Harry hadn't expected those words, but he understood them. He nodded before leaving.
...
Meanwhile, in Skyrim…
"I told you I don't know! There was just a flash of light and then… nothing!" the bound man shouted, his eyes wide with fear. He was completely immobilized, surrounded by a dozen children staring at him with stern expressions and various weapons in their small, but steady hands. "I wasn't even there that day! If a thief sneaked in… I wouldn't have even noticed!"
"Tsk… then he's useless," Blaise muttered, clicking his tongue in frustration.
"So what do we do now?" Avento asked, arms crossed.
"Maybe we should look into Akatosh… his last sighting, some sign… something," Blaise suggested thoughtfully.
"The last time he was seen was in the Imperial City… in the heart of Tamriel. He was fighting against Mehrunes Dagon," said Hroar, trying hard to recall the stories accurately.
"So we should look for Mehrunes Dagon to bring him back?" asked Lucia innocently, the youngest of the group, her eyes wide.
"Don't be ridiculous," Lars replied, frowning with an unusually serious expression. "The master made us promise we'd never go near the Daedric Princes."
"Then maybe we should try contacting one of the Nine Divines," Hroar proposed.
"As if that's easy," Blaise added sarcastically.
"We could try Mara. I always pray to her so Dad can find 'partners'," said Sofie naturally.
"Well, technically she is Akatosh's wife…" Avento commented, raising an eyebrow. "Great… now our mission is to summon a god. I wonder if Dad does that all the time."
"I'm pretty sure he does," Blaise replied, as he and the others began walking toward the exit.
"Wait! Is no one going to say anything about Sofie praying for multiple partners for the master?!" Lars exclaimed, still in shock.
"You should get used to it," they all replied in unison, glancing at him with resignation.
And so, as if nothing had happened, they all left the grand mansion, closing the door behind them with the calm of those who carry a clear"though ridiculously impossible"purpose.
Behind them, the bound man watched in silence as his tiny captors departed. His face, once pale with fear, slowly twisted into a grimace of overflowing hatred.
The ropes that held him began to burn with a supernatural fury.
"Damn brats… Now that I'm free, you'll know true terror! Maybe I can't defeat you alone… but what will happen when a Thalmor army comes after you?!" he let out a maniacal laugh as corrupted magic boiled through his veins.
But a soft voice, barely a whisper, interrupted his madness:
"I can't let you bother my little brothers… or their new mission."
"W-What…? Who's there?!"
He spun around violently, but everything around him began to distort. His vision grew blurry, then black. In his last moment of consciousness, he saw the ground rushing toward him… and beside it, his own headless body collapsing with a dull thud.
Silence reigned.
"So… do we follow them?" asked Shadow A, a barely noticeable smile behind their black mask.
"It really scares me how she can kill someone and still be so cheerful…" said Shadow C, glancing sideways at their companion.
Shadow B said nothing. He simply nodded, and the trio vanished into the darkness as if they had never been there.