Harry Potter: Dragonborn comes

Einar's Students Strike Back

"Harry, you have to tell Professor Einar," said Hermione as she noticed the mark on Harry's forearm. He quickly pulled his sleeve down to cover it.

Neville, who was standing beside them, silently observed the words etched into his friend's skin: I must not tell lies. They were deep, red... and clearly painful.

"How do you think the professor will react when he finds out someone hurt his students?" Harry said calmly, though his eyes betrayed something deeper. "He kicked Dumbledore's ass just for putting us in danger. Can you imagine what he'd do if he found out about this? I mean, I want to see Umbridge suffer too, but he'd definitely get involved… and wouldn't hesitate for a second," he added, still serene. "He told us this year we need to learn how to move through political games. If I go crying to him at the first problem..."

"Do you really think hiding it will help?" Hermione interrupted, her serious gaze locking on his. She, too, was worried about causing trouble for Professor Einar—but knowing him, even a small injury could unleash hell on Earth.

"It's fine. I still have the healing potions the professor gave me. I'll just use one and it'll vanish, no big deal," said Harry, trying to downplay it. He figured Umbridge was simply lashing out at him for constantly contradicting her. He could handle it… and the potions would take care of the rest.

"Harry, I think Hermione's right. Professor Einar is extremely perceptive. If he finds out you hid it, it might make things worse," said Neville in a calm but firm tone.

"Alright," Harry sighed. "I need to take responsibility for what I say. I'm not a kid anymore. I'll treat this as a lesson—to think before I act. This… is nothing," he added, turning to head up to his room.

Minutes later, he returned holding a red vial. Without hesitation, he poured it over his forearm. The words burned into his skin began to vanish quickly, as if they had never been there.

"See? You're worrying for nothing. I've had worse cuts while training with swords. That's why the professor gave me these potions," Harry said with a calm smile.

"But that was during training… not because someone evil hurt you," Hermione muttered, frowning.

But Harry had already made up his mind. To him, it wasn't worth bothering Einar over something so minor. He believed he could handle it on his own—it was just punishment for provoking Umbridge, nothing more.

Hermione and Neville stopped insisting. The three of them said a quick "good night" and went off to bed.

Harry, however, didn't realize that maybe telling Einar at that moment would have been the smartest move… At the very least, the professor would've made Umbridge suffer just the same.

…

The next morning, Neville, Hermione, and Harry left the Gryffindor common room together. As they made their way toward the Great Hall, something unexpected stopped them in their tracks.

Fleur was walking casually… wearing a mask of Einar on her face.

They all froze, especially Hermione.

From the clothes and the hair, it was clearly Fleur—and probably no one else in the entire castle would dare wear a mask of Einar so shamelessly.

"What are you doing with that?" asked Hermione, her tone laced with mild irritation… and jealousy.

"This? Oh, Professor Einar gave it to me," Fleur replied cheerfully, her voice radiant even from beneath the mask. Thankfully she was wearing it—her beauty alone could've stunned half the Great Hall into a trance.

"Why?" asked Hermione, her frown deepening.

Fleur noticed the jealousy on Hermione's face and smiled triumphantly beneath the mask. She stepped forward gracefully and, almost teasingly, patted Hermione lightly on the head.

"You're so pretty," she said with sweet, false innocence.

Hermione blushed—but not from flattery. She was furious. She glared at Fleur as she entered the Great Hall, now drawing the attention of several students.

Neville and Harry, standing behind Hermione, exchanged glances, unsure whether to say something or stay quiet.

Suddenly, Hermione spun around and fixed her gaze on Harry, who reflexively took a step back.

"W-wait! Hermione, what are you doing?" he asked nervously as she approached, apparently about to pull off his robe.

But in truth, she was looking for something that was always with him: Viir.

The little black dragon, disturbed from its slumber, opened one eye with a confused and very annoyed expression. He stared at Hermione like she had just ruined the best nap of his life.

"Viir… how about we go see Professor Einar?" Hermione asked sweetly, her voice melodic and affectionate.

Viir's irritation vanished instantly. His tail gave a soft wag at the mention of Einar. That was all he needed to hear.

"I'm taking him," said Hermione to Harry, with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Harry could only nod quickly.

And so, Hermione walked off cheerfully with the small black dragon in her arms.

"Girls are terrifying," muttered Neville as he watched the wild mood swings of their friend.

…

Meanwhile...

Outside a lesser-known newsroom—a minor publication overshadowed by The Daily Prophet, yet still supported by a loyal readership—Cedric Diggory stepped out with a calm smile after another interview. This time, he had spoken about the Triwizard Tournament, what happened in the graveyard, and the new path his life had taken.

He was no longer just a champion. He was now a public figure... and a silent agent working under a mission assigned by Einar. His task kept him on the move and allowed him to send money home—especially after his father had been fired from the Ministry for openly supporting him.

But as soon as he stepped through the front door of the building, his smile faded. Something was off in the street.

Four men in dark robes emerged swiftly from different directions, their wands hidden within well-tailored folds. In a matter of seconds, they had him surrounded.

"Cedric Diggory. You are under arrest for slander and defamation against the British Ministry of Magic," declared one of them coldly, holding up an Auror badge.

"That's arrest-worthy now?" Cedric asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought that kind of thing only got you a summons."

"We're not going to let you stir up more trouble. We know you've received high-level training, and considering what you pulled off in the Tournament, we're not taking any chances. If necessary... we'll use force."

Cedric chuckled quietly and lowered his gaze.

"Finally… something fun. Professor Einar trains us to become refined monsters of war. He said if things ever got ugly... I should enjoy myself."

His wand slipped naturally from his enchanted sleeve into his hand. Instantly, his robe reacted: the defensive enchantments woven into it shimmered faintly along the collar and cuffs, boosting his reaction speed and reducing physical damage.

One of the Aurors aimed a quick "Expelliarmus", but Cedric was already moving. He dodged to the side with surprising speed and aimed at the ground.

"Telekinesis."

A cobblestone ripped itself from the pavement and shot toward the Auror's head. The man raised a shield just in time—only for Cedric to follow up with a second spell:

"Confringo."

The stone exploded in a controlled blast, shrouding the area in a cloud of dust. Protected by the layered enchantments on his dark robe, Cedric dove into the haze and conjured a practice spectral sword, a blunted blade designed for non-lethal combat.

One Auror, disoriented in the thick dust, tried to locate him by sound. But Cedric moved like a shadow, silent and lethal. He appeared at the man's left flank and struck his wrist with the flat of his spectral blade, making him drop his wand. Then, with precise aim, Cedric pressed his wand to the man's chest.

"Bombarda Maxima."

The impact hurled the Auror several meters backward, slamming him into a wall where he collapsed, unconscious.

Another Auror cast a red streak of energy blindly. Cedric ducked and rolled forward, raising his wand.

"Ray."

A bolt of lightning erupted from the tip. The spell, amplified by runes carved into the inside of his sleeve, stunned the Auror on contact. He convulsed briefly, then hit the ground hard.

A third opponent cast "Ventus!", dispersing the dust cloud in a gust of wind—but it was too late.

Cedric had already activated Invisibility, combined with his enchanted boots that bore Einar's custom stealth enhancement rune. To the naked eye, he was completely gone.

He reappeared behind the fourth Auror and delivered a clean elbow strike to the back of the neck, knocking him out cold. Then he turned swiftly to face the last man.

This one was already shaken, barely managing to lift his wand before Cedric whispered:

"Fear."

The Auror's eyes widened in terror. Magical illusions flooded his vision, showing him surrounded by dark, shifting shadows. Screaming, he dropped his wand and fled down the street in a panic.

Cedric straightened up, breathing evenly. Not a scratch on him. His robe still shimmered faintly from the active enchantments.

"Ah… that was fun," he said, flashing a radiant smile.

People nearby had watched the scene unfold with wide eyes—equal parts awe and fear. A boy fresh out of Hogwarts... had just defeated four trained Aurors.

"Sorry for the commotion," Cedric said calmly. "It seems someone tried to arrest me illegally. Please, spread the word."

And with that, he walked off with composure, as if nothing had happened.

From a nearby balcony, a man with a magical camera had been snapping photo after photo. He smiled.

…

Around the corner, in a quiet alleyway, Cedric made sure he was alone. He pulled a magical communication orb from inside his robe. A soft glow activated it… revealing the image of Percy Weasley, his face cold and eyes sharp.

The so-called traitor who had joined Fudge… or had he?

"It's ready?" Cedric asked in a low voice.

"All set," Percy replied efficiently. "Tomorrow morning, the headlines will say the Ministry tried to silence the boy who was nearly killed in a graveyard. Emotional damage, censorship, abuse of power... it's the perfect narrative."

Cedric nodded seriously.

"Lie low for a few days," Percy added. "After this, they won't just send Aurors. They might try something worse."

"Don't worry. Professor Einar already gave me a new mission," Cedric replied with pride. He glanced around one last time. "Take care of yourself, spy."

The orb dimmed and shut off. Cedric carefully tucked it away into a hidden pocket inside his robes.

Then, with a slight movement, he vanished into thin air with a clean crack.