Ignorance is fun.
That new year at Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat's song was unlike any of the previous ones. This time, it didn't speak of house rivalries or ancient glories. Its magical voice delivered a message of unity, of camaraderie, and of how there would always be a place for everyone at school, regardless of their origin. It was a serene yet powerful melody that resonated deeply in the hearts… at least in those who were truly paying attention.
After the ceremony and once the new students had been assigned to their houses, the Great Hall buzzed once more with murmurs and anticipation. It was time for Dumbledore to speak.
The Headmaster, with his usual serene smile, rose slowly, extending his arms with theatrical flair before beginning his speech. He spoke of hope, of new beginnings, of the importance of learning, and of the responsibility to look after one another.
A long speech, certainly.
So long that most students mentally checked out not long after it started, exchanging glances, whispers, or simply waiting for the food to arrive. Einar was no exception. Not because he didn't respect Dumbledore, but because he had more pressing matters on his mind. His eyes were fixed on the first-years' table, calmly observing the new students. Nervous faces, curious eyes… He would train them, sooner or later.
When the speech finally came to an end, Dumbledore resumed his jovial smile.
"And now, before we enjoy our long-awaited feast, I'd like to introduce the new members of the staff."
He turned toward a young, foreign-looking woman who was standing timidly near the staff table—someone quite familiar to everyone.
"She is our new library assistant. She applied for the position to improve her English while volunteering without pay. Which, quite frankly, is already a great help to Hogwarts." His attempt at humor earned a few soft chuckles… and a severe look of disapproval from Professor McGonagall.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, ready to continue, when a sharp cough interrupted him. A pink-clad figure stood up from her seat with exaggerated delicacy.
"It's best if I introduce myself, Headmaster," said Dolores Umbridge, her tone dripping with condescension and laced with a faint air of superiority.
Dumbledore yielded the floor with a simple wave of his hand.
"A pleasure to meet you, children. I am Dolores Umbridge, sent by the Ministry of Magic as an inspector in matters of education and student welfare. Due to the many irregularities that have occurred in this school over the past years, it was deemed necessary to supervise its operations more closely."
Her gaze, though brief, landed on Harry Potter like a velvet-wrapped dagger.
"Like when the Ministry organized a tournament that endangered the lives of three students from different schools? And also those of their families?"
The voice that spoke was clear, firm, but not raised. Everyone turned to Einar, who spoke calmly—yet his eyes held a glacial hardness.
Umbridge spun on her heels, visibly irritated by the interruption.
"Ahem… The Triwizard Tournament is a historic competition. No one would get hurt in such an event. And I'm sure you, as a professor, know the Ministry did everything in its power to ensure the champions' safety," she replied swiftly, in a defensive tone.
"False. As a professor, I was the one who protected the students," Einar said, his expression unchanged. His voice, though composed, left no room for argument.
Dolores pressed her lips together, still trying to remain composed.
"Then that must mean I have quite a bit of work ahead of me, don't you think?" she said, trying to sound charming, though her smile resembled more that of a snake. "I will make sure all students are safe… and protected from dangerous individuals."
She looked directly at Einar, clearly trying to intimidate him. But when he slightly narrowed his eyes, her gaze instantly shifted, as if an invisible force had crushed her spirit.
"I hope we can get along, children. Remember, I'm here for you. To ensure your safety," she added in her shrill voice, sending a chill down more than a few spines.
"Well then, I believe it's time to eat," Dumbledore said with a forced smile, just as the plates magically appeared on the tables. The tension dissipated the moment the aroma of delicious food filled the hall.
As the students began serving themselves, Fleur scooted a little closer to Einar, seated not too far from him.
"So, Professor Einar, it seems we now share the same job," she said with a playful smile.
"Ahem… I believe assistant is not quite the same as professor," chimed in Professor Sinistra with a gossipy tone, eyeing both Fleur and Einar with a bit too much interest.
"Alright, Sinistra, don't tease the new girl," Flitwick said with his usual kindness.
"By the way, a pleasure to meet you, Professor Einar. I believe we hadn't had the chance yet," said Grubbly-Plank, Hagrid's temporary substitute, extending her hand politely.
"A pleasure," Einar replied calmly, giving a slight nod.
However, before he could say more, he felt something tug at his legs. Looking down, he saw two little dragons pulling at his trousers—one with a combative expression, the other simply seeking attention. Viir and Viing, the mischievous scaly twins, had escaped their caretakers.
Einar bent down and picked them up with ease, one in each arm.
"My, my," murmured Grubbly-Plank, her eyes sparkling with genuine fascination as she watched the young teacher hold the baby dragons like they were mischievous kittens.
Fleur looked at them, enchanted.
"They're beautiful," she said, watching the red dragon fiercely try to bite Einar's hand, while the black one comfortably curled up in his lap.
"DRAGONS!" Umbridge suddenly shrieked, leaping from her seat. Her screechy voice made the nearby professors flinch. "Why are there dragons at Hogwarts?! This is a flagrant violation! I must inform the Minister immediately!"
The entire table fell silent. And Einar, with a dragon in each arm, simply raised an eyebrow… and didn't say a single word.
He didn't need to.
His eyes said it all.
"Don't worry, Madam Umbridge," said Dumbledore in his usual calm tone. "Last year, there was a reported incident involving lizards that resembled dragons. It was officially explained as the result of a failed transfiguration spell. Minister Fudge is well aware—he even saw them personally. A dragon expert confirmed they weren't real, mainly because they lacked the internal organs typical of any known species."
He paused to smile gently before continuing:
"Furthermore, these little ones don't grow. They're simply a magical scam, sold to two students by an unscrupulous merchant. Fortunately, they pose no danger."
In truth, they had already taken every precaution to cover it up. The "expert" who examined them was Charlie Weasley, alongside a worker from one of the most prominent dragon farms in the north, which had recently changed management to allow greater magical freedom. The tests showed that the creatures did carry traces of magic in their blood but no genetic markers of any known dragon species in the wizarding world. That was enough for the Ministry to accept the explanation.
Umbridge frowned. No sane person could look at those beings and not see that they were unmistakably dragons. Small, yes. But dragons nonetheless. Still, she chose to hold back her disgust.
"Regardless, I will notify the Minister again, just as a precaution," she said through clenched teeth. "If you'll excuse me, I must leave. There's much work to be done."
Without another word, she turned and marched away, her face rigid with frustration.
The other professors—those who knew the truth—didn't even bother to stop her. No one in their right mind would dare take the dragons away from Einar, much less by force. Only a fool would try. After all, Viir and Viing had unintentionally become Hogwarts' unofficial mascots. The students adored them and often gave them snacks or sweets when they saw them scampering through the halls.
Viing, the restless and destructive one, usually got into trouble faster than he could fly. Viir, on the other hand, was so quiet and sneaky that some students claimed spotting him brought good luck—especially when he hid in Harry's clothes.
That night, all eyes in the Great Hall were on Einar. Not just because he held both dragons with unshakable calm—one fiercely nibbling on his fingers and the other sound asleep—but because of the image he presented. Many students, especially the girls, weren't sure whether to envy the dragons for being in his arms… or envy the professor for holding them.
Harry and Neville approached him, a little nervous.
"Sorry, Professor. I didn't notice he'd slipped away," said Harry, moving to pick up Viir, who looked at him with shining eyes and allowed himself to be held without protest.
Meanwhile, Viing refused to go with Neville. He kicked, scratched, and squirmed with clear intent to keep wrestling with Einar. Neville had to hold him with both hands, struggling to keep him still, which caused a wave of laughter among the onlookers.
"Well, Professor, it seems you're quite beloved by magical creatures," said Grubbly-Plank with a genuine smile, watching with interest.
Einar didn't answer with words. He simply nodded calmly and returned to his meal, as if holding two dragons were the most normal thing in the world.
…
The welcome feast came to an end, and the students were led to their dormitories by the prefects. The professors also retired to rest, knowing that the real work would begin the following day.
All except Umbridge.
She walked briskly to her private office, lit the fireplace, and tossed in a handful of Floo powder. Her face appeared first in the green flames.
"Are you certain, Minister?" she asked, her brow deeply furrowed.
"Completely," replied Fudge with visible irritation on the other end. "The School Board representative was present at the time to examine those… things. They're magical anomalies, not weapons. They can't be used to attack either Dumbledore or that professor. And besides, they're under the custody of Harry Potter and young Longbottom."
He paused, his voice now tinged with resignation.
"Augusta Longbottom, though retired, still has influence. Her son was an Auror with many connections. Now that he's returned, those connections are active again. And with Potter—if we keep targeting him, people will say we're bullying an orphan. We've had enough trouble already. Many still believe Dumbledore and his professor's 'staged story.'"
Umbridge pressed her lips together tightly, furious at not having complete control.
"I understand, Minister. Then… I'll stick to observing. Waiting for him to slip up."
"Exactly. Your job is to provoke him. Make him look like a threat to the students. Once he exposes himself, we'll handle the rest."
"'We'?" she repeated curiously.
"Some witches and wizards have recently approached me. They share our goal: to get rid of Einar. We don't want another Dumbledore running wild. But with him, it'll be easier. He doesn't yet have the popularity to protect himself."
"Yes, Minister," Umbridge replied with a dark smile, delighted to be useful… and to get her revenge.
It wasn't just about obedience. She hated Einar.
She hated how he intimidated her with a single glance. How he remained completely unfazed by her authority. She hated his poise, his presence, that air of superiority he didn't even try to hide. He reminded her of a half-Veela she'd once met in her youth—someone who had stolen attention… and respect.
To her, Einar was nothing more than a foreign wizard with strange powers. Powerful, yes. But no one is above the Ministry. No one.
Not even Dumbledore.
Dumbledore was protected by his fame. That's why they were slowly discrediting him, weakening his influence. But with Einar, all they needed was an excuse. One small justification.
And with that, they wouldn't just expel him.
They'd destroy him—right in front of his own students.
Sometimes, ignorance was fun.