The Sorting Hat and Complaints
While heading over to check on Hermione, Einar received a summons from the headmaster. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and let Harry handle things.
He walked toward the headmaster's office in a foul mood, entering without bothering to knock. There was no sign of the old man yet, so he simply walked in.
He had never taken the time to observe the place, so he gave it a quick glance. The walls were lined with portraits of former headmasters, all staring at him in silence with an unusually intense focus.
That's when he saw it.
An old wizard's hat, worn by time, rested on a shelf. Despite its harmless appearance, Einar could feel it watching him… with invisible but piercing eyes.
"Hey… Want to try and see which House you'd belong to?" asked the hat suddenly, surprising Einar.
He hadn't been present during the Sorting Ceremony, so he didn't fully understand how the process worked.
"What for?" he asked coldly, not bothering to hide his distrust.
"Dumbledore wants you to do it. Don't worry, I'll just say which House suits you," the hat replied, bluntly revealing the headmaster's intention.
Several of the portraits reacted in panic at the hat's lack of subtlety, while others simply laughed mockingly, as if enjoying the chaos it had just caused.
"And how do you do that?" Einar asked, not taking it too seriously.
"I can see your memories… your emotions… the inspiration of your soul. That's what guides me to find the House that aligns best with you, according to the will of the founders."
"Hm… Sure. I've got nothing to hide. I'm only doing this because I find it annoying to explain things," said Einar casually, as if he didn't care in the slightest what might be discovered. In Skyrim, everyone knew who he was. There was no point in hiding it.
Well… maybe a few things, like the Dark Brotherhood or the Thieves Guild, he did keep secret. But only to avoid being hunted all the time.
Calmly, he placed the hat on his head.
The moment the fabric touched him, the hat's eyes flew open so wide it looked like the leather might tear apart.
"Well, well!" it exclaimed, surprised, as the portraits held their breath.
"Interesting… very interesting," it murmured as it delved into his past.
"You're like a walking natural disaster, hahaha…"
The hat dived through Einar's memories in seconds, and what it saw left it both fascinated and bewildered.
"I must say, your past is unlike anything I've ever imagined. You've faced enemies capable of destroying any magical world, creatures that would make ours beg for mercy... You've walked through ruins with secrets that fueled the greed of all, and the deaths in your world... in all my years of existence, I've never seen anything like it."
There was a brief pause.
"You fulfill every trait of the brave… every trait of the wise… every trait of the loyal… and every trait of the ambitious… except one."
"Which one?" Einar asked, uninterested.
"The ambition for power," the hat replied gravely.
Einar chuckled softly.
"Why seek something I already have?"
The hat laughed too, with an old, warm chuckle.
"That's true… That's true…
You're a good lad. Keep it up. Even if you become a thorn in Dumbledore's side, the four founders would be delighted to have a teacher like you at this school.
You did a good job in your world. Now you can enjoy ours.
Ah… but try not to destroy it by accident, please."
Its voice slowed, grew deeper. It was no longer just an enchanted hat… for a moment, it was as if a very ancient sage was smiling at him.
Einar looked at it in silence, then smiled as well.
"You didn't tell me which House I belong to."
"Hahaha… you can choose whichever you like. But I'd recommend… the lions. Having a dragon among them will be interesting."
Einar nodded slowly.
"I see… then I'll choose that one."
"Hahaha… then welcome," said the hat, laughing one last time before falling silent again. Its eyes closed, and its expression returned to that of a simple piece of old cloth.
Einar placed the Sorting Hat back on the shelf and turned around, just as the rear door of the office opened and Dumbledore walked in with calm steps.
"I see you've had the chance to meet the Sorting Hat," the headmaster said, watching him carefully.
"No need to say anything," Einar replied coolly. "The hat told me about your plans. By the way, I'm in Gryffindor"though I'm not sure if that throws off any of your schemes."
"Ahem… Actually, I summoned you for another reason. I'm sure you're aware of what it is," said Dumbledore, quickly changing the subject.
Einar calmly sat in one of the armchairs across the desk, watching him seriously.
"Well, no, not really. Enlighten me," he said, his tone calm but sharp.
"I'd like to talk about the incident with Professor Snape… an attack, in front of the students, no less," Dumbledore said, trying to hide his reproach.
"Before I respond to that, I'd like to tell you something about my own school of magic. Is that alright?" Einar asked directly. Dumbledore nodded with a hand gesture, giving him the floor.
"The College of Winterhold, in Skyrim, is a place where wizards learn in a structured and rigorous way. Disorder and weakness disguised as authority are not tolerated there. But there's a problem: Skyrim is full of prejudice. Many Nords despise magic and those who practice it. They believe strength lies only in fists, not in knowledge. And since most wizards come from other races, that only fuels the hatred."
"You know what that does?" he continued, his voice gaining strength. "It unites mages. It creates bonds stronger than blood. Because when the world rejects you, you cling to those at your side. Even the nearby town looks down on the very mages who protect it. A bunch of fools."
"Here, on the other hand… I see a school divided, not by ideals, but by selfishness and indifference. Houses at odds, blind teachers, and abandoned students. I don't know if that was the founders' intention, but I doubt they dreamed of a place where hatred is nurtured among children… and adults just watch."
Dumbledore stared at him, speechless, while the portraits on the walls seemed to hang onto every word.
"Snape has lost all right to be called a professor," Einar declared firmly. "He not only shows blatant favoritism toward his House but also ignores his students' faults and openly despises those he dislikes."
"It was me who put him in his place. A job that was yours as Headmaster, and one you chose to ignore. I don't know if it was out of cowardice or convenience, but you did. And the other professors aren't innocent either. Allowing a man with a god complex to abuse his power. Haha, what nonsense. He's lucky he's still in one piece."
He fell silent for a moment. His gaze did not waver from Dumbledore's.
"That's all. If you have something to say, I'm listening."
Dumbledore took a few seconds to respond, and his voice was lower than usual.
"I will speak to Severus… I only hope we don't end up with more damaged professors," he finally said, knowing he had no way of winning that argument.
Einar stood up, composed as ever.
"Unless they deserve it, they won't get a beating from me. But if they do… you already know what to expect."
Without another word, he turned around and left the office without looking back.
The portraits of former Headmasters followed him silently with their eyes. They said nothing. Gave no advice. Did not defend Dumbledore. This time, they simply watched.
......
Harry found Hermione coming out of the infirmary. Her expression showed a peace recently recovered, though her fingers still instinctively brushed her lips, as if afraid her teeth were still larger than normal.
Even though they looked perfectly normal to Harry, he knew it was a long-standing insecurity. He said nothing. Just smiled at her.
Hermione responded with a calm look.
"Are you feeling better?" Harry asked quickly.
"Yes…" she nodded. "What happened while I was gone? I heard Professor Einar's voice before I left, he sounded… furious."
"Well…" Harry took a deep breath and began telling her everything. His voice lit up with excitement as he described Einar's fury unleashed upon Snape. The sparkle in his eyes was unmistakable"he had enjoyed every second.
"Won't he get in trouble for that?" Hermione asked with growing concern.
"I don't think so," Harry replied, but before he could say anything else, Hermione had already dashed down the corridor. He was left standing outside the infirmary, unsure whether to follow her or not.
"Harry! I was looking for you!" a voice called out.
Harry turned. It was Colin Creevey, panting as he ran up to him.
"What's going on, Colin?"
"They sent me to find you. It's time for the wand weighing… And they're taking pictures for The Prophet too!" he exclaimed enthusiastically.
"I see… Alright, let's go," Harry replied, following him through the corridors toward the large tent where the Tournament champions were gathering.
⋯⋯⋯
Meanwhile, Einar was in his office, standing by the window. From there, he could see the tent set up for the interviews. He briefly watched Ollivander talking to Dumbledore, pointing at his wand while the old Headmaster nodded seriously.
But Einar looked away, uninterested. He returned to his desk and sat down, ready to tackle the work that had piled up.
Just then, there was a persistent knock at the door.
"Come in," Einar said calmly.
The door swung open. Hermione entered, her face filled with worry.
"Professor Einar… They didn't fire you because of me, did they?"
Einar let out a soft laugh.
"Of course not. I'm one of those things they're afraid to keep close… but even more afraid to keep far away," he replied with an enigmatic smile.
"W-what…?" Hermione looked at him, not quite understanding.
"Never mind," he said, brushing it off. "I see your teeth are smaller. Did my Mask fail? Do you want me to take a look?"
Hermione blushed slightly.
"N-no. I asked Madam Pomfrey to shrink them a little more…"
"I see. Though they were lovely just the way they were… But if you feel better now, that's what matters," Einar said with a calm smile.
"T-thank you…" Hermione murmured, a bit surprised. Then, trying to change the subject, "Aren't you going to attend the wand weighing for Harry and Cedric?"
"I'd rather not be near the Headmaster right now," Einar replied, firm but serene.
"I see… Then…"
But before she could continue, the door knocked again.
"Come in, Neville," Einar said without turning around.
The door opened, revealing exactly who he had named.
"Professor, I came to return the books and… I need help with something I didn't understand," Neville said as he walked in quickly. He greeted Hermione shyly and placed several books on the table.
"Alright. What part is giving you trouble?"
Neville opened a tome on illusion magic, pointing to a specific section.
"Here. It says you need to use 'magicka' to access another person's mind, but I don't understand how that works…"
Einar began explaining patiently, his voice deep and calm, as if he were discussing something as natural as breathing.
Hermione watched, confused. That magic was unlike anything she had learned before. The words were different, the symbols strange. She slowly approached the table, drawn by the books and their covers engraved with glowing runes.
"May I… see what they're about?" she asked curiously, pointing to one of the tomes.
"Of course," Einar replied, not taking his eyes off Neville.
Hermione picked up a book with golden covers. She began reading with growing focus, absorbed in the text. Without realizing it, Neville finished his question, thanked him, and left. Outside, the sky was already turning orange with the sunset.
As she closed the book, Hermione looked up, thoughtful. She remembered the steps described and focused. She looked at her hand. A warm yellow glow enveloped it, spreading across her body like a soft breeze.
"Congratulations," Einar said mildly. "You've just learned your first healing spell."
Hermione jumped slightly, but smiled.
"Professor… this magic is completely different from anything we've learned so far," she said with excitement.
"Do you want to learn more? Neville could use help healing Cedric and Harry during training."
"Can I join?" she asked, excited. Even though it was a basic spell, she was completely captivated.
"Of course. You're welcome," Einar replied, giving her a slight nod. "We begin tomorrow."