The Prophecy of Flame and Death
The sunlight filtered faintly through the office windows, bathing the shelves full of scrolls in a pale golden hue. Einar sat calmly behind his desk, having just returned from driving off a group of enemies that had dared to approach the castle. He was at peace… although his office was anything but peaceful—at least not while Lucia was there.
The little girl wouldn't stop asking questions, one after another, like a storm of curiosity in human form. Einar, however, answered each one with his usual serenity, as if it were just another casual conversation between father and daughter. Which, in a way, it was.
"Did you know there's a giant hiding in the forest?" she asked, eyes shining with excitement.
"I'm aware. It should be Hagrid's brother," Einar replied without raising his voice.
"Then why don't you just go bam, bam! and beat up the bad guys like you always do?" she insisted, mimicking punches in the air, as if she could replicate her father's movements.
"Because if I keep saving people everywhere I go... they'll never learn to save themselves," Einar said with the same calm tone. He paused, lowering his gaze slightly. "And besides… no one asked me to."
After all, the last time Harry called for him, it was to ask him to defeat Voldemort. Einar went, and he did it. Since then, everyone had tried to handle things on their own. Perhaps deep down, they all felt the same: if they kept relying on Einar for everything, they would never be able to protect their own world.
"Then why a school of magic? Wouldn't a warrior school be better?" Lucia asked again, changing the subject so naturally that any normal person would have gotten frustrated. But not Einar. He was used to it. Especially because he knew exactly what she was trying to achieve.
"And your brothers? Where did they go?" he asked, resting his chin on one hand and smiling softly at her.
"They took Harry. And Viir went with them. They're heading to the battle… they said it would be an adventure," she answered innocently, until her eyes suddenly widened and she covered her mouth. "Oops…"
She had just revealed the real plan. She had been sent to distract him. But they did it so often that Einar already knew they were up to something.
"Fuuu…" he sighed. "Dren," he called, his voice directed at the air.
The shadow beneath his chair shifted slightly, and a dark portal opened in silence. From it emerged the daedric butler, who bowed with a hand over his chest.
"Master," he said respectfully.
"Take them their weapons and armor. Tell them to be careful with death spells. Stay close… but don't interfere unless one of those spells is about to hit them," Einar ordered, as calmly as ever.
He knew the only spell that could truly pose a threat to his disciples and children was Avada Kedavra. But with so many blessings from the gods of Tamriel—especially Arkay's—it was likely even that wouldn't cause them real harm. At least, not the way an enchanted sword would. Still, if a powerful enough wizard used more direct methods, the kids could be in danger. But Einar trusted them. In this world, they were strong enough to face anyone… maybe with the exception of Dumbledore or Voldemort.
"Yes, sir," Dren replied in a grave tone.
"And if anyone dares cast one of those spells at them… do as you please with them," Einar added coldly.
A carnivorous grin stretched across the daedra's face before he turned into black smoke and vanished.
Meanwhile, Lucia swung her legs idly from her seat, completely unfazed. This was all normal. After all, she wasn't exactly the best distraction for her father.
Until suddenly, the door burst open.
"Dad! It's done. You have a dinner date tonight," Sofie announced with commanding authority, as if a "no" was not an option.
Einar blinked slowly.
In Skyrim, it was quite common for his daughter to set him up on dates. The last one had been with an orc who turned out to be an assassin sent to kill him. After that, Sofie had laid low for a while… but it seemed she was back at it again.
"You didn't go with your brothers on their adventure?" Einar asked, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"I'm not interested. They just want to see zombies. Gross," she replied simply, then pointed at him. "Don't change the subject. You're going on that date… now."
Einar glanced to the side, debating whether he should go check on the others. But in the end, he sighed.
After all… no father could win against his daughter's will.
…
"Interesting method of travel," said Blaise as he stepped out of the fireplace in a flash of green flames. "If we'd had this in Skyrim, you wouldn't have needed to ride a dragon… though I admit, that was fun."
One by one, the rest followed: Avento, Hroar, Samuel, Lars… and Harry.
The others hadn't bothered to come. Alesan went to fight the giant squid in the Black Lake. Sissel had made friends with some Hufflepuffs and stayed in the kitchen. Lucia was on distraction duty. And Sofie… well, she was doing her usual thing.
Upon arrival, they all looked around. The place was familiar: the Ministry of Magic. A place where many things had started. Now, chaos ruled within. Witches and wizards hurried through the corridors, building improvised barricades with their wands at the ready. When they saw the group appear, several aurors quickly raised their wands… then lowered them with a sigh of relief.
"You idiots! You forgot to disconnect that fireplace!" Tonks shouted, pointing back at the Floo connection. Instantly, other aurors rushed over and destroyed the connection with a single spell.
"What are you doing here?" asked Runa, appearing through the crowd. Her gaze was sharp and direct, landing on her brothers… and Harry.
"We came to join the fun," Blaise replied with a confident smile.
"I see," said Runa, as if the answer was completely acceptable. Tonks and Cedric exchanged a confused glance but said nothing else. After all, they were Einar's disciples. That was reason enough to trust their strength.
Cedric stepped closer to Harry with a friendly smile.
"Long time no see, Harry. How was your last year at Hogwarts?"
"Good," Harry replied, a bit uncertain. He wasn't quite sure how to act around Cedric anymore. They had both trained under Einar, but Cedric had already graduated. His aura had changed—sharper, more intense. It felt like he could cut you just by standing near. And yet, he still carried that same warm energy that had always defined him.
"Come on, we need all the help we can get. Though I'm sure some people are going to be angry when they see you," Cedric added with a half-smile.
Suddenly, a portal opened near the group. All the Aurors and wizards nearby raised their wands in alert, their reactions swift and trained.
But what fell from the portal… wasn't an enemy.
Armors and weapons rained down from the void, some embedding themselves deep into the stone floor with such force they stuck up to the hilt.
"Nice. Our gear," said Lars with a grin as he approached his swords.
Blaise also smiled and picked up his greatsword. Without wasting time, they all began equipping themselves.
Hroar donned a heavy orcish armor, complete with two enchanted one-handed axes, rings, amulets, runes—an imposing warrior.
Blaise wore a gleaming elven armor, wielding a dragonbone greatsword with practiced ease.
Lars put on his chitin armor, with two stalhrim swords on his back, like someone born to dance among enemies.
Avento wore a high-archmage's robe filled with enchantments, his gloves glowing faintly with etched runes.
And finally, Samuel. His glass armor shimmered with every movement. In one hand, he held an ebony shield, and in the other, an equally dark and lethal ebony mace.
Among the sea of cloaked wizards, they looked like warriors from a forgotten age. Or from a dream.
Then, something else came through the portal before it closed. It flew straight toward Harry, who caught it midair: a robe. Its fabric was simple at first glance, but it pulsed with a dense, vibrant magical energy, faintly glowing with enchantments.
"Oh, looks like you got one too," said Avento, noticing it. "It's a mage's robe. Enhances your magic abilities and magicka recovery. It's called Psijic Robe. Father probably enchanted it just for you."
Harry smiled faintly and, without hesitation, took off his usual robes and put on the new one. It fit perfectly. It felt… powerful.
"Whew… this is really cool. You guys too," Cedric said, glancing at Harry and then the others.
"I could say the same," Harry replied, eyeing Cedric's outfit—a Dark Brotherhood assassin uniform. The black fabric blended with the shadows.
"Done with the fashion show? Let's go. The enemy is on the way," said Runa simply, as if none of it was out of the ordinary.
…
Meanwhile, in the Minister's office—empty for days—an improvised strategy room had been set up.
Inside were the members of the Order of the Phoenix, the heads of the Aurors, and each department leader from the Ministry. Every face in the room was tense. Some were downright pale.
"Where's the Minister?" asked Harry as soon as he entered the room.
Tonks shook her head. "Gone. And… we've got worse news than just the attack."
"Potter? What are you doing here?" growled Moody, causing everyone to turn toward Harry and the others.
"I… I…" Harry stammered, uncomfortable under so many stares.
"It's fine, Moody," Sirius interrupted with a smile. "He probably came to help. Carry on with the meeting." He gave Harry a quick wink.
Moody grunted but didn't press the issue. Meanwhile, Arthur approached with a worried frown.
"Harry, you should have stayed at school. We're under attack," he said seriously.
"The Floo Network is completely shut down. There's no way back," Runa interjected in a flat tone.
Arthur looked from Harry to the others… all dressed in armor like something out of another world.
"It's fine, Arthur. I'll keep an eye on him," said Sirius, patting him on the shoulder. "Harry's proven himself many times. He'll be useful here."
"Come on, there's something you need to know," he added, pulling Harry aside while the meeting continued.
"What's going on?" Harry asked quietly, glancing at the tense faces around the room. Most of them didn't know much. All they knew was that Einar was guarding Hogwarts, the students were safe… and classes were over.
But the war had only just begun.
"Harry… the truth is, we lost the Horcrux."
Sirius's voice was low but heavy with gravity.
"Horace Slughorn still refuses to talk. And this week… two magical and muggle towns were attacked. Especially their cemeteries. We believe Voldemort has been revived. And he's gathering more bodies for his army. Even the Inferi from the cave… are gone."
He paused, taking a deep breath.
"Luckily, I managed to recover my brother's body."
The room fell silent.
"The Minister also disappeared," he continued. "Many think he was just a puppet of the Death Eaters. But if he was already passing stupid laws, why get rid of him? We have no idea what their plan was. What we do know is that, according to the magic radars… an army is marching toward the Ministry."
Sirius glanced at Blaise and the others, who looked surprisingly calm.
"And it seems Einar's kids already knew."
"Dren keeps us informed. We just don't bother him," said Lars with a shrug and a smile.
Sirius nodded, his expression serious.
"I know you're strong… but if I can't… I'm asking you: protect Harry."
"Don't worry… he's kind of one of us," Blaise said, arms crossed.
But before anyone else could say another word, a rumble shook the floor. The ceiling cracked.
"Looks like they're here!" shouted Sirius, just as Moody began barking orders in full battle mode.
"Everyone, form barricades! Use fire—doesn't matter if you destroy the entire Ministry! Burn those bastards! Healers, to the back—get ready to treat the wounded! Transfigurers, build a front-line army—NOW!"
Witches and wizards rushed to their positions, tense-faced but resolute. They knew what was coming.
"Here we go," Cedric muttered with a sigh. He had fought these things before. He knew exactly what to expect. And still, a spark of excitement lit up in his eyes.
"Let's move," said Blaise, and his group followed without hesitation.
They all took positions around the atrium. But they weren't looking at the floor…
They were looking up—at the ceiling, which had begun to crack.
"Brace yourselves!" Moody shouted, taking charge like in the old days. If anyone knew how to survive, it was him.
The ceiling shattered.
And from above… corpses rained down.
Zombies, skeletons, inferi—falling like a cursed downpour, crashing against the stone with sickening thuds. The air filled with screams, the stench of death… and magic.
"NOW!" Moody roared.
The most skilled fire-wielders conjured raging flames and powerful spells… until a massive dragon of fire emerged, roaring with magical fury, scorching everything in its path. The heat was suffocating—like hell itself had burst through the roof.
But then…
A black rain began to fall.
Thick, oily darkness that devoured the flames on contact.
"ATTACK!" Moody bellowed again.
And the war began.
Spells flew like lightning. Explosions. Screams. Smoke. Death. The inferi charged forward at terrifying speed—unstoppable, as if fire no longer held them back.
Samuel stepped forward and raised his mace.
"For Stendarr!" he shouted.
A holy light burst from him, forming a radiant golden aura around him that scorched every inferi who dared come close. His presence was like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.
Ministry wizards conjured an army of golems to form a frontline wall, while curses and spells rained down from behind.
But the corpses kept falling. Endless.
From above, Death Eaters and dark wizards descended on brooms, launching spells in rapid strikes.
Harry didn't stop—not for a second. He cast spell after spell. Everything he had learned at Hogwarts. Everything Einar had taught him. Everything that might help.
All around him, wizards began to fall.
The floor was painted red.
And black.
A total war.
Meanwhile, Einar's disciples moved like elemental forces.
Avento raised a hand—and the ground exploded. Each gesture a detonation.
Blaise spun his greatsword with lethal precision. Each slash cut down dozens of enemies like wet parchment.
Samuel kept his aura burning while healing those nearby. His defense unbreakable. His faith unshakable.
Lars danced among the enemy. Literally. A dance of death—a whirlwind of blades that carved a bloody path.
Hroar, drenched in black blood, never stopped. His armor gleamed with each strike, and his brute strength smashed even the reinforced skeletons.
And Runa…
Runa walked. That was all.
But with each step, a head rolled.
It was as if death itself danced around her.
Then—
A laugh pierced the sky.
Sharp. Cold.
Everyone looked up.
High above them, cloaked in twisted darkness, Voldemort appeared.
His gaze locked on Harry.
Smiling.
Silent.
And in that instant—
Harry woke up.
He sat up with a jolt, soaked in sweat, heart pounding like a drum. His breathing was fast. His body trembled.
He looked around.
He was in the Gryffindor tower dormitory. Neville slept soundly. Seamus snored softly. Ron's bed… empty. Still in the infirmary, under watch.
It had all been…
A dream.
Or maybe something else.
Harry sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. He said nothing. Just breathed.
Then, as if something inside him had solidified, he stood up.
There was a new light in his eyes.
A determination he hadn't shown before.
He knew what he had to do.