"The Year Hope Returned"
While Einar delved into the School of Alteration, he guided the others in learning spells focused on enhancing physical resistance and bodily toughness. Enchantments like Oakflesh or even Dragonhide were useful for withstanding blows or impact-based magic, though he himself warned that against curses like Avada Kedavra, they wouldn't do much. In those cases, the only defense was to dodge... or block the spell with something else. That's why they also trained in Telekinesis: a useful tool not only for manipulating objects but for pulling shields or structures into the path of a curse.
At the same time, he taught them Restoration magic so they could heal quickly in the middle of battle. Although some wizards in this world viewed Conjuration spells with suspicion, Einar paid no attention to such prejudices: he considered it vital for them to know how to summon Atronachs or magical allies in combat. After all, battles weren't won with power alone, but with strategy.
The School of Destruction, on the other hand, was where they showed the most dedication. With Einar's approval and Harry's permission, the students borrowed several advanced spellbooks over the holidays and studied day and night. Hermione, in particular, stood out the most: thanks to the Aetherium Crown that Einar had given her—an ancient Dwemer artifact that accelerated magical learning—she managed to master nearly every known spell from the Schools of Destruction, Illusion, and Restoration.
Meanwhile, in the training area, the students alternated between magic practice and hand-to-hand combat. Swords clashed intensely, spells crackled through the air, and sweat ran down their foreheads. Tonks, now more focused than ever, fought with enviable concentration, using all her experience as an Auror to challenge Hermione and the illusionary wolves summoned by Ginny.
Then, the door burst open.
"Sorry to interrupt, but your Hogwarts letters have arrived," announced Mrs. Weasley as she walked in with several envelopes in hand.
The students immediately stopped what they were doing. Swords lowered, spells dissipated, and everyone rushed over to receive their letters.
As always, they were accompanied by the school supplies list and a formal welcome letter. However, Hermione and Harry's letters contained something more: a small medallion with the Gryffindor crest and an official note from the school.
Both had been named prefects.
Hermione was left speechless. Harry blinked several times before smiling shyly. Just then, Ron walked in behind his mother… and froze at the sight. His eyes locked onto the golden badges, and his expression twisted with a mix of disbelief and jealousy. Once again, he hadn't been chosen.
"Wow! Prefects! What wonderful news!" exclaimed Molly with genuine excitement. "Bill, Charlie, and Percy were prefects too. It's a shame that…" Her voice trailed off as three of her sons glanced at her with mild discomfort.
"Well, well. Hand me the lists, I'll take care of the shopping. And I'll use the chance to get everything we need for a little party," she quickly added, gathering everyone's notes with the same energy she always used to manage family chaos.
"I'll go with you, Mum," said Ron, in a tone that didn't quite hide his bad mood.
"Hmm… alright. I could use a hand carrying everything," replied Molly with a gentle smile.
And so, mother and son left the room toward the village.
…
"Prefect!? That's fantastic! You're probably the first Potter to earn it. Neither your father nor I were prefects. It was always Remus or your mum… but well, we weren't exactly model students."
Sirius spoke with pride and joy as everyone shared a celebratory dinner at the Burrow, rejoicing over the news. He smiled with that rebellious glint in his eyes, though his words made it clear he was genuinely happy for his godson.
Harry's chest swelled with pride. For the first time, he felt truly respected for everything he had done. He had faced the Dark Lord, survived, protected others… And even though it was Einar who ultimately saved him, he knew he had given everything he had. Hogwarts owed him—and now, at least, they were acknowledging a small part of that.
What Harry didn't know was that, at first, he hadn't been meant to be prefect.
In fact, the plan was to give the position to Ron. But during the staff meeting, when that decision was presented, one word from Einar was enough to freeze the entire room.
"You're joking, Dumbledore?" Einar said in a voice as cold as the frost atop the Skyrim peaks. "This boy has risked his life time and again for this school and he wasn't even being considered for prefect? I don't care what your reasons are. No one deserves it more than him. I've got nothing against Ron… but if Harry isn't a prefect, then no one will be. Don't give me that rubbish about 'character building.' Harry has more character than you ever did."
Silence fell. McGonagall stood up. As Head of Gryffindor House, her voice carried weight.
"I agree. He's our best choice."
Dumbledore accepted—though with one condition: that Einar, at least for that year, try not to provoke conflicts with the Ministry.
Einar, of course, was annoyed. He thought political logic was stupid, but he understood that his students also needed to learn how to face enemies who didn't wield wands or swords, but power and law. Sometimes, strength alone wasn't enough. But it could be used to remind the system that they were not mere pawns.
He agreed… for them alone.
That night, the celebration was calm and warm. Laughter, soft music, and the aroma of Molly Weasley's cooking filled the house. But when the sky began to darken and the lights of the Burrow flickered like magical fireflies, the atmosphere changed.
Mrs. Weasley quietly slipped away to clean a forgotten corner, whispering with Alastor Moody. Einar didn't pay attention… until he felt something. A shiver.
And then, a scream.
A scream of pure terror. Molly.
Einar vanished in the blink of an eye, moving faster than sound. He appeared at the threshold of the room… and froze.
Everything was covered in blood.
His students. His allies. Fallen members of the Order. Even himself, slumped in a corner.
For a moment, everything went silent.
Einar's gaze glowed with a fierce golden light, a burning fury from the depths of his soul. He understood instantly. It wasn't real.
It was a Boggart.
A lesser creature, a beast born of fear… and this time, it had made a mistake.
Because for the first time in its species' history, a boggart felt fear. Real fear.
Of the man who stared at it with golden eyes like maddened suns.
It tried to transform. It tried to find Einar's greatest fear. But it found nothing.
There was no fear.
Only rage.
The boggart spun desperately in the air, its body shifting aimlessly, trapped in its own illusion. But Einar had already decided.
With both hands —which looked like claws of pure restrained fury— he tore the boggart apart with such power that not a trace of its existence remained.
The others arrived just in time to see the remnants of the enchantment dissipate into the air, and Molly, on her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Through tears, she explained what she had seen… and then everyone understood the reason behind Einar's anger.
He was their protector. Their teacher. Their shield.
That day marked a turning point.
From then on, they woke before dawn. Trained to exhaustion. Learned, fought, grew. Even the adults joined the training to share their experience. It was no longer just preparation. It was determination.
And finally, the day to return to Hogwarts arrived.
Moody, ever paranoid, had planned to split them up and escort them in groups. But Einar spoke to McGonagall to return on the express train with them to watch over them:
"I'll go with them. It's easier if we all go together, don't worry," he told Moody to convince him.
And so, they marched together. With Einar at the front and Moody watching from the rear, his magical eye spinning nonstop, spotting any idiot who dared to attack them would be easy.
Meanwhile, Harry approached Einar accompanied by Sirius.
"Professor… can I ask you something that's been bothering me?" he said with unusual seriousness.
"Of course," Einar replied calmly, never lowering his guard. Like Moody, he kept his senses sharp in case any fool dared to attack while he was present. But for now, there was no threat that worried him.
"It's about the clairvoyance spell," said Harry. At those words, Einar looked at him for a few seconds.
"You're searching for him, aren't you?" he murmured neutrally before turning his gaze forward. "The clairvoyance spell is useful. Simple, easy, and often helps you find your path. But it's not all-powerful. If someone knows it's being used, they can easily create a spell to block it."
He paused.
"Although… it's a bit strange that someone created a countermeasure here. It doesn't surprise me too much… but it does make me uncomfortable."
Einar had also searched for Voldemort on his own, determined to eliminate the threat to his students. However, according to Dumbledore, killing him would only hasten his return in another form. The old wizard had shared part of the truth, enough to maintain a fragile truce. But Einar knew he wasn't telling him everything. Still, with the pieces he had, he remembered his battle with the ancient pharaoh in the pyramid and understood that Voldemort's immortality must have a similar root.
He knew finding those objects anchoring Voldemort's soul would be easy. Too easy. And precisely because of that, he thought maybe he shouldn't be the one to do it. Maybe… it was time for his students to take their first flight. Because a bird that never leaves its cage will never know the sky.
There was danger, yes. But also growth. And his students were almost ready for their first real mission.
"I see," said Harry, understanding the meaning behind his words.
"Harry. Go to class. Live like a normal kid… while you still can. Don't lose your freedom worrying about things you shouldn't be carrying yet. If you let that stupid prophecy chain you down… you'll lose more than the future. You'll lose the now," said Einar, and for the first time, his voice sounded gentle. A softness that revealed what he rarely showed: genuine concern for his students.
"Yes," Harry replied with a smile. A calm, real smile. The first since Voldemort's return. Because Einar was right. As long as he was at Hogwarts, no one would get hurt.
"He's right, Harry. Let the adults worry for now. You just relax a little. You've been training nonstop for months," said Sirius with a warm smile. Then he added with a light laugh, "I love finally being able to legally accompany you on the Express. I always dreamed of this day."
Harry nodded, and this time not out of politeness, but with genuine joy.
He wasn't alone anymore.
It wasn't like his first year, when he arrived shyly with only Hagrid by his side. Nor like the following years, when his uncle left him at the station like a burden.
Now he had his friends, his teacher, and his godfather.
And although he knew there was still a madman out there… he also felt something he hadn't felt in a long time:
Hope.
He thought it would be a good year. He was convinced of it.
And in a way… he wasn't wrong.
Only it wouldn't be a good year…
It would be an absolutely insane one.
Especially because of what was coming.