Harry Potter: Dragonborn comes

The Trial

"You're the Dragonborn's student, right?" asked Torygg as he approached Harry, who was sitting in the center of the Wizengamot chamber, visibly confused by the recent events.

"Professor Einar's student... Yes, he's my master," Harry replied respectfully.

"Then, young man, could you tell us why you decided to act, even though this absurd law says otherwise? As a former ruler, I know there are laws one must follow, even in lands governed by fools... but still, we must understand what happened," said Torygg in a calm tone, yet with the firm authority of a man who, even without knowing the local laws, had already mastered their spirit.

Behind him stood men whose very presence seemed capable of breaking armies. No one dared interrupt him.

"Yes... We were walking with Sirius through a Muggle neighborhood when dozens of Dementors suddenly appeared and attacked us. First Sirius... then me," explained Harry with a steady voice.

"Dementors?" exclaimed a witch from the Wizengamot. "In a Muggle neighborhood?"

"Yes. Sirius fell to the ground. Two of them tried to—" Before he could continue, Fudge interrupted with an incredulous laugh.

"Dementors? Muggles can't even see them. How convenient," he scoffed, trying to distract the Wizengamot.

"I'm not lying! There were dozens! If I hadn't—" Harry tried to defend himself.

"Enough!" shouted Fudge, only to earn murderous glares from every ancient hero present. If not for his pride, he likely would've fainted right there, pants soaked in fear.

"This is a trial, isn't it?" Torygg asked, turning his gaze directly at Fudge, who now looked whiter than a corpse. "Then why does it feel like he's already been condemned without even being allowed to defend himself? Where are the witnesses you mentioned?"

"Their memories were erased... to protect the secrecy of the magical world," replied Percy, his voice far softer than before.

"Ah... so there are no witnesses. Tell me, how do you know it was Harry Potter who cast the spell?"

"It's called the Trace," Sirius explained calmly. "It's a charm that detects magic from students' wands when they're outside Hogwarts, especially in the Muggle world. But it's not precise. It only shows that magic was cast nearby, not who cast it."

"Then you, being a wizard, were with him?"

"Yes."

"And how do they know you weren't the one who cast the spell?" Torygg smiled, clearly enjoying turning their political games against them.

"Mr. Potter said it himself," Percy jumped in quickly, still defending Fudge.

"Yes… but ever since we walked in, the Minister has barely allowed him to speak. If anything, he seemed to be guiding him to say it. That doesn't count as a confession, does it?" Torygg asked, looking toward the Wizengamot.

"No. It doesn't count as a confession," replied a witch, earning furious stares from some of Fudge's allies.

"Then... sir..."

"Sirius Black," Sirius said quickly, watching as Torygg took control of the trial with near-imperial authority.

"Very well, Mr. Black. That day, did you cast the spell recorded by the Trace?"

"Yes. It was me."

"Do you have proof?"

"No."

"Is there any evidence suggesting otherwise?"

"No."

"Perfect. Would you like to continue?" Torygg asked, glancing at the Minister and the Wizengamot members. Some tried to hide their frustration… without much success.

Fudge shook his head, visibly sweating. He desperately wanted those foreigners gone.

"Then the trial is over. Is that acceptable to you, Einar?" Torygg asked, looking at the Dragonborn, who nodded slightly.

"Then we shall take our leave. If you ever need me again, don't hesitate to call. I quite enjoy these ridiculous political games," Torygg said before elegantly stepping through a portal that opened beside him.

One by one, the warriors followed, casting threatening glances at everyone present. The last to step through was Ysgramor.

"I know you're having fun, boy, but remember to draw the line. Don't let these fools think they can trample you... or I'll come back myself to knock some sense into you," he said before disappearing through the portal.

Always harsh. Always loyal.

The first time Einar arrived in Sovngarde to face Alduin, Ysgramor had challenged him to a hundred rounds of combat. Einar lost the first few, but as the fight went on, he began to match him. They ended up fifty-fifty. He was the only one in Sovngarde whom Einar considered his equal... and respected as such.

"Good," said Einar now, his voice calm but deadly. "Now, I'd like to know why Dementors attacked my student."

The pressure in the chamber returned like an avalanche. Those who thought it was all over... instantly paled.

"Perhaps I misunderstood, sir, but... are you suggesting the Ministry sent the Dementors?" asked a fat, bulging-eyed witch who resembled a toad.

"Did they?" Einar asked, his voice like steel. "They're unreliable. Stupid. Arrogant. And clearly unconcerned with anyone's safety. I saw it during the Triwizard Tournament. I have no good thoughts about any of you. So I want an answer. Who sent them? Why? And if that person dies, I hope they don't have children to leave orphaned."

The woman began to tremble, barely able to breathe.

"Very well, Mr. Dovahkiin. An investigation will be conducted," said Amelia Bones, standing with solemn authority. "Given that the charges appear to be baseless, as acting head of the Wizengamot, I declare that there is no need for a vote. Unless someone wishes to oppose Mr. Dovahkiin?"

No one said a word.

Not even Fudge or Umbridge, who only stared at him with contained fury.

"Charges are dismissed," Fudge finally muttered, stepping down from his seat with visible contempt.

Einar gave a faint, mocking smile. Then he spoke:

"I'd like to say a few words before everyone leaves."

No one moved.

"Next time you mess with one of my students, I won't be so kind. Today I acted with lightness and pacifism for one reason only: to teach my student. To show him that even the strongest must face fools who think they rule. To show him the reality of political struggles. But… if even one of my students gets hurt because of your dirty games… I'll kill you all."

His voice dropped in volume, but became a thousand times more terrifying.

"I'll kill you. Your families. Your descendants. And you won't just die. You'll be condemned to a place where suffering never ends."

A crimson aura burst from Einar's body—more lethal than any specter or demon. His gaze turned golden, and the spiritual roar of hundreds of dragons rose around him.

The Ministry's walls cracked. The protective enchantments shattered like broken glass. Everyone dropped to their knees, as if bowing to an absolute king. Everyone… except Sirius, Harry, and Dumbledore.

And even Dumbledore could barely stay on his feet. Sweat poured down his forehead, neck, and back.

"Understood," Einar said, and without waiting for a response, turned away.

"Let's go, Harry."

The two walked through the shattered doorway. Only then could the others move again. Some trembled. Fudge had already fainted. The rest… knew they would never return to the Wizengamot if a single Hogwarts student was involved.

Because if that man came back… not even magic would save them.

…

Einar, Sirius, and Harry arrived through the fireplace, brushing off dust just as everyone in the room sat in tense anticipation. Sirius, as usual, hadn't bothered to warn anyone, so the entire family waited anxiously for the trial's verdict.

"Well? How did it go?" Molly asked anxiously.

"All good. Einar showed up with a bunch of ancient heroes, scared everyone, and the trial ended without any problems for Harry," Sirius replied with a slightly embarrassed smile, as if remembering how ridiculous it had been to see the entire Wizengamot trembling.

"Great!" everyone exclaimed at once, just before throwing confetti over Harry, who didn't know whether to laugh or hide.

"By the way," Sirius added as he shook off his cloak, "it'd be better if we gave Einar one of those crystal balls. That way we can track him more easily and avoid so much trouble trying to find him."

"You're right," Molly said, remembering something. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small crystal ball—one she had confiscated from the twins when they tried to use it to spy on private conversations.

She handed it to Einar with a motherly gesture. As the matriarch, Molly was the one who managed and organized all family communications. All the small balls were linked to a larger one she guarded with fierce care. It was her way of contributing to the cause, and secretly, she loved feeling useful and important in that role.

Einar examined the ball with curiosity. He had discovered its existence by accident long ago and had gifted it to the twins for them to use however they wished. Now, seeing it again, he thought the boys were rather creative in finding ways to make use of it. Maybe he should give them all his enchantment books… they might surprise him.

"Although, if we're talking about direct contact, there's a better way to communicate with me," Einar said—just before a voice interrupted him.

"Einar! Good thing you're here, we were waiting for you," said Fred enthusiastically.

"Yeah, we've got something interesting to show you. Come on, come on," added George, waving him over urgently.

Without giving it much thought, Einar followed them—curious, but calm. Knowing those two, something crazy and interesting was surely waiting.