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Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

The Man in the Red Cloak

“There has been rumors that he’s back.”

“Yes, a man in a red cloak has been seen going in and out of towns in London-”

“But is it him?”

“I believe so. News from the leaky cauldron says he is heading towards Hogsmede-”

“He’s after the stone. He’s after Flamel. Follow him Lucius, get him for the Dark Lord. A weapon like that can’t go to waste. Don't fail like that sniveling idiot Quirrel.”

“And the stone?”

“He isn't the type of man that would leave such a piece behind.”

…….

“He’s back?”

“He has been spotted in the leaky cauldron. He apparently is headed this way, Albus.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Red cloak, metal arm, golden hair, it is him.”

“I didn't expect he would have made an appearance so soon. Flamel said he would be coming for it once news got out but-“

“He is after Flamel's stone?”

“Correction, Severus, he is after his stone. Flamel gave the philosopher's stone to me to keep safe, but it never was truly his.”

“Should we move it? If he knows it's here-”

“He has been chasing it for far too long. I believe that it is about time it was returned to the right hands. Nicolas would have done it but apparently his teacher’s rage can be a bit overwhelming at times. It would be best for us to do it.”

“So, we just wait till he arrives? I really don't think such a powerful man is going to come in peacefully.”

“As I have heard, he has always had a thing for the dramatics. However, we must await him here for the safety of ourselves and the stone. I fear some less hospital people would like his acquaintance as well.”

……

Edward peered out over the hills of the abandoned forests and saw the dim speckle of lights that could only come from the well-known yet perfectly hidden wizarding school named Hogwarts. They danced across the waters of the surrounding lake, welcoming the new school year forward as the late summer months turned to fall. It has been ages since he had come into contact with the place yet it appeared to have never changed. But however nostalgic the castle could have been, he wasn't there for fun and games. It has been too long since Flamel left his side. He had been on that wizard's trail ever since he stole the stone away from him, but wizards were a tricky breed and always managed to slip through his fingers. Now, with hell's fire burning in his eyes, he was finally going to get it back.

“It's been too long.”

“I know,” he replied stiffly.

“Do you think they're still-”

“Yes.”

“The stone's been used for a few hundred years, a many are bound to have-”

“He's still there,” Edward snipped a bit harshly. “He has to be.”

He started down the mountainside towards where the gleaming castle sat on the lake's shore. He had a lot of ground to cover but he knew that with every step he took, he would be just that much closer to his destination. As he wound his way through the treeline he found it thinning as it gradually grew into a small village; Hogsmede.

It was small, only good for food, and a few short repairs from a local seamstress. Most would have gone through the town and taken up a carriage to travel the rest of the way to the school. In fact, Hogwarts itself made frequent trips by carriage into the town just for the older students' delight. But the school year had not begun, and he wasn't most people. He found that taking a carriage would have just made the local townsfolk worry. He knew how the common wizards liked to gossip and they spread rumors faster than fire. Though he could deny some, not all tales were false.

He learned long ago what dangers existed when he opposed the wizarding community, even the muggle community. He didn't like to stand out even though he knew he would never fit in. He was no muggle, yet he was no wizard. He kept to himself over the years and became something of a hermit. It took a great deal to get him out into the public of the world and every time he did he heard new stories about his ancient red cloak that he didn't want to listen to. They weren't anything of a bedtime story.

As Edward made his way toward the outskirts of town, he froze at the familiar popping sound behind him. Apparition always got on his nerves as wizards tended to have the audacity to show up randomly and quite uninvited. The floo network, however, was worse because even if they were invited, their sooty footprints were not.

He turned around to spot a dark cloaked figure lurking by the back corner of a cottage as if they had been there waiting for him. He knew he was being watched but he didn't realize that the wizards would have the balls to address him at all. Most were confused or frightened by him and tended to keep to themselves when he was around. However, judging by his robes and the gaudy mask on his face, this was a wizard from that young radical group. They were always an impatient bunch when their cause was on the line.

“Are you the one they call Paracelsus, the Eastern Sage?” The slick voice of the Death Eater drawled out behind the token gaudy mask. Edward had many titles over the ages yet Paracelsus was the one that stuck in the legends and appeared in both muggle and wizard chemistry textbooks. He hated that name among most that he had in that world. It sounded silly to him as he was nowhere from the East. He annoyingly nodded his head in reply and earned a rather harsh chuckle in return for his bluntness.

“My master would like to meet you.”

“Get in the back of the line then. There is only one man I am going to see tonight and it isn't that child you call a Dark Lord,” he grinned cruelly beneath the dark red fabric of his hood. The Death Eater did not appear amused by his taunts.

“If you will not come peacefully, perhaps some force would make you less complacent.”

"You are an idiot to think that you could force me to do anything. I have a full schedule and unfortunately, you are not on it. I have places to be,” he huffed as he turned his back on the stranger. There was a rough yell as the wizard chanted one of his endless spells. A hot white ball of fire shot just a couple of inches past his right cheek. It sputtered out pitifully as it hit the side of another cottage. Edward froze in his spot with anger and irritation.

“Just take care of this guy. We aren't going to get him back if you keep messing with this fool.”

“I really don’t want to deal with this right now,” he huffed under his breath about the inconvenience this man brought him.

“Then let me.” Edward glanced back to see the cocky grin on the death eater's face. It appeared that the man assumed he had the Eastern Sage beat with the little magical twig he was sporting. However, he couldn't have been farther from the truth.

“You’re not coming out for this idiot,” he hissed. “I got him.” He turned around to face the wizard.

“If you wanted to fire a spell at me you should have made sure your first one hit its mark!” he scolded the man as beneath his old and travel-worn cloak he clapped his hands together. There was a soft ring as the air seemed to ignite with a sense of electricity. 

Edward slammed his hands to the earth and rubble and dirt tore apart in piling spikes towards the offender. There was a pop as the death eater quickly apparated out of the way and a few meters to the South, but he already had another transmutation heading his way. Spells shot out of the Death Eater's wand as more of the earth was torn up from the fight. The balls of fiery energy flew towards Edward and whizzed uselessly past as he danced out of the way. He swiped at a few wayward spells with his automail hand and the sputtered pathetically.

“It would take more than your stupid magic show to take me down. Don't you dare waste my time!” Edward barked at the wizard as he dodged another green flash of light. He was getting tired of dealing with the persistent man and just wanted to finish what he came there to do. However, the wizard ignored his warnings and continued to fight as street after street was torn up. Lights of nearby houses turned on and he heard a few screams from open windows. Wizards were gathering in fear and amazement to watch the battle and Edward felt himself growing aggravated. He was so close to getting his stone back. He couldn't dance like this for the entire night. He also couldn't let any of the civilians get hurt because of his recklessness.

“We don't have time for this. Let me handle this.”

 “No, this man is nothing you need to deal with.”

“You want to get them back, right? Let me out. We don't have time.” He looked around at the small village and saw that the roads were torn apart and destroyed. He doubted that any carriage magical or not could make it through like this. If he continued he was sure that eventually the entire town would lie in a pile of rubble. He couldn't fight the death eater like this, not when they had somewhere to be.

“Fine,” he huffed. With a clap of the hands and a touch of the earth, crimson light rose up from the ground as a single body of stone was formed. A suit of black armor grew with perfect craftmanship, from many years of practice. It stood alone in the middle of the beaten street and silence called itself to the battle. The death eater froze in his place and watched the spectacle before them. The only movement in the town was the soft gusts of wind that flew down the streets and tussled the fabrics of their robes.

Edward took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, clapping his hands once more. A bright red circle filled with many runes, few who knew their meaning, etched itself in the air between the Alchemist and his armored creation. The eerie light cast a blood-red glow across the village as he brought his hand to his chest. He pulled away and a small red flaming spark danced around his fingertips. The light was entrancing, and onlookers of the scene would find themselves unable to look away from the flickering crimson lights. He cast the energy at his creation through the array and the entire armor ignited in a beam of red. The blinding light roared to life and burnt the town a bright scarlet as it grew. The armor it engulfed started to shake and quiver, joints grinding stone against stone. It violently shook and rattled making everyone but the alchemist anxious to see what would happen to it. Suddenly the light shot out and the armor froze in its spot, the darkness of the night settling back where it had previously been as if it had never been disturbed.

“Come on bastard, like you said we haven't got all day,” his voice cut through the night's tension at the stiff statue. As if on command, the armor suddenly began to move. It stretched its limbs out and they creaked as they twisted about.

“What is this?” A sudden cry sounded as the death eater gaped at the moving and conscious life form before him. The Alchemist glared at the wizard in absolute annoyance.

“I told you to get out of my way. I’m not playing your stupid games anymore,” Edward yelled at him. The armor lifted his hand towards the stunned wizard, posed to strike. Just as the death eater struggled to cast a spell, the armor's fingers snapped, and a pillar of flames shot out. The earth near the wizard exploded in fire and charred cobblestone and rubble erupted from where the armor hit its mark. Horrible screams ricocheted off of the cottages and filled Edward's ears. He looked away from the flames, unable to bear himself another memory of them.

Edward only dared look back once the flames were extinguished by the cool night air and the smoke cleared. All that could be seen was a quivering hurt figure where the tall and prideful wizard once stood. Edward carefully let out a breath of air and snuck his way over to the rubble to seek aid for the casualty, leaving the armor where it stood. He found the death eater whimpering where he lay, his robes scorched and torn. Though the street around him was nearly destroyed from the fight, the damage that he sustained was minimal. It was a broken wand arm with a third-degree burn. It was an injury caused with deadly accuracy, but one quickly mended with the use of magic.

As Edward examined the wizard for any more injury, the whimpering man finally got a better look at the legendary figure. His cold eyes widened in shock as he stared into the face of nothing more than a teenager.

"Y-you're a child-"

"Looks are very deceiving," Edward hissed as he leaned over the wizard and clapped his hands together. The man behind the mask was startled as he feared another attack but Edward just grabbed a hold of the wizard's wrist. With a shock of electricity, the burns on the wizard's arm healed down to its minimal capacity, much to the discomfort of the casualty. He gathered up the wizard's wand from where it was dropped and flung it down on his chest. The man picked it up quickly, not wanting to be disarmed in the presence of his overwhelming power.

“If you know what was good for you, you would apparate out of here. I don't have time to mess with you and this bastard won't be so easy on you next time,” he warned the death eater.

“What are you?”

“Nothing you want to mess with,” Edward huffed as he stepped away and allowed the death eater to scramble to his feet. The man was worse for wear but managed to get up. “Leave. And tell your foolish bastard of a Dark Lord to come find me himself. I lived too long to take orders from a child like you.” The alchemist turned around and started to walk back toward the suit of armor he had created. He heard the satisfying crack behind him as the death eater apparated out of sight to somewhere unknown. He sighed as stumbled over the broken streets that they tore up in their short-lived battle. He really needed to control himself. With a clap of his hands, he set the cobblestones back in their places and the road was returned to new.

“Why did you let him go?” the armor asked as he passed by it.

“We need to find Flamel,” he replied, dodging the question.

“Their small group is starting another genocide. He obviously had plans for their leader.”

“Why didn’t you kill him, oh all-powerful Flame Alchemist?” he retorted in a childish mocking tone. The armor, if it could show expressions, was taken back. They both knew that those flames could have done a lot more damage than the armor had let out. “We have been here for too long to be bothered about stupid wars. We always know who starts them and how they turn out. Especially the stupid ones over so-called prophecies or divination bullshit. I stepped into the wizarding world to get the stone back. I don’t want to get tangled up in their mess more than I have to.”

“People will die-”

“And I didn’t choose to be their damn savior!”

“Edward!” One of the million voices in his head scolded him. Of course, it had to be her. He groaned as he placed his head into his hands to try and massage his headache that came whenever Winry talked to him. He knew that she was always right, always. But he didn't want to deal with her nagging then. He didn't have time.

“Look… we already saw what chaos happens when people get their hands on me. I don't want to be tangled in this mess. Not again. More people will die if I get caught in this war, and you know it. That’s why you went with sparklers rather than your fireworks display," Edward told the armor that temporarily entombed Colonel Roy Mustang’s soul. The man just stared down at him for a few moments and Edward knew that there wasn’t an ounce of disappointment in it but rather understanding. They all remembered the day that the world found out about the philosopher’s stone. They had all lost someone. Even after hundreds of years, they were still fighting desperately to get them back. Edward sighed as he spun around and headed back down the streets towards the path that led to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

“Come on bastard. I took all that effort to put you in a body the least you could do is keep up.”

…….

“No! Come back! My dad will kill me!” Ron shouted after the beaten car that was currently speeding through the forbidden forest without a driver. After being driven right into the whomping willow Harry could understand why it wouldn’t want to spend another minute with Ron in the driver’s seat. When the two of them had taken the car from Kings Cross station to get to school, they imagined a more victorious entrance to the grounds of Hogwarts. Instead, they were battered and bruised and a little worse for wear than they were when they left all thanks to the car stalling out and finding itself a nice perch on the whomping willow.

“That’s great. We managed to hit the only bloody tree that hits back,” Ron grumbled as he looked down at the mess that was left over from the chaos. Luckily though, before the car went on its temper tantrum, it managed to fling their luggage out with it. Harry picked up his trunk along with his owl's cage and started to march towards the castle, knowing full well that they were late for the sorting ceremony. Ron followed suit but sped up the green as he didn’t want to miss his own sister's sorting. They all knew that she was going to get into Gryffindor, no Weasley they knew ever wasn’t, but it was the sake of being there to watch.

Harry knew that the grounds would have been abandoned since the feast and the Sorting was going on so he didn’t have to fear Professor Snape finding them out. But he couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching them. As he looked up the park towards the doors of the castle he noticed two figures marching their way in. Their backs were straight in determination and it reminded him of soldiers going off to war except one was wearing a rather beautifully crafted suit of armor while the other was dressed in a red cloak of sorts.

“Who the hell are they?” Ron asked as he saw what Harry was staring at. The two of them watched as the two strangers disappeared into the castle undisturbed. “Do you think they are our new Defense teacher?”

“Don’t be silly, Ron. Lockhart is our defense teacher remember?” Harry reminded him as memories of their meeting in Flourish and Blotts haunted him.

“Well, they’ve got to be someone new.”

“Obviously.”

“But who?”

“Good question. Let’s get to the feast and find out,” Harry suggested as he knew that the only place someone would go at this hour was the room with the food. With grumbles in their stomachs, he knew that Ron agreed and they raced their trunks into the castle without another word.

…….

Edward stormed through the doors of the castle, his anger rising in his chest. He was so close to Flamel. He knew it. When he found him, he was going to beat the living hell out of him. Mustang was rightfully angrier with the wizard than Edward was and he was afraid of what the man might do to him when they got their hands on him. But first things first, they needed the stone.

Edward had been to Hogwarts when it was first made. It was when his curiosity of the wizarding world had peaked. He knew it because he attended there for many years. It was quite a long time ago when he was naive enough to think that magic could have helped him in any way. The only thing that he managed to learn at the school was that behind all of the silly spells they performed, wizards were a sly bunch of people with more tricks up their sleeves than they could fit. That was exactly how he was overcome by that blasphemous Flamel. Even thinking of that man made his blood boil and hushed curses fly from his mouth. However, lucky for him, the castle didn’t change. It was the same old thing with the hourglasses and all. And even he knew that the wizards were ones for tradition so he knew exactly where to find everyone. It was the first day of school so where else but the feast?

Just as he was about to break open the doors to the Great Hall he felt a rough heavy hand rest on his shoulder. He looked back to see the stone-cold armor of his former Commanding Officer stare back at him. He felt his raging anger settle down in his chest as he was made to take a moment's rest, diverting his attention from what he was searching so long for.

“You know what could have happened to him. You know Flamel has used it,” the man said calmly to him, his armored expression not changing.

“I-I know, Mustang. But he is still there I can feel it. We just need to get the bloody stone back from that bastard and-”

“What are you going to do if he really is gone?”

“Something stupid for sure. Are you going to stop me?”

“As always,” Roy replied softly, for he knew the pain that accompanied loss was far greater than Edward would ever know.

“Good, I have done enough stupid things in my life,” Edward said as he looked up at his old friend even though the face, he created for him was far from familiar. The soul-fire eyes that ignited the armor with life were a comfort. However, Roy’s body was only temporary, and he saw a dim flicker in his Commander’s eyes and he knew it was time to go.

“I am sorry, but you have been out for too long. Your soul can’t stay bonded forever,” Edward sighed as he lifted his hand. The armor shifted to stop him, however, before Roy could scold him, he beckoned with his hand the soul that he had placed in the armor. The metal body shook violently as Roy tried to fight him, wanting to stay in the armor longer, but his eyes started to dim. As Edward pulled his hand back, the fiery red flame of Roy’s soul danced around his fingertips once again. The armor went slack.

“Don’t worry Colonel. He’s still alive. You don’t have to worry about me,” he told the man softly to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. Slowly he brought his hand to his chest and the flame returned to where it came, the philosopher’s stone in his heart. He sighed as he looked back at the empty armor, noticing how much lonelier the world seemed without its presence.

Shaking himself back to the present, Edward turned back to the door. He felt his own anger flutter as an ounce of fear washed over him. It had been 600 years since Flamel stole a portion of the stone from him. The man undoubtedly used it to keep himself and his blasted wife alive this long. How much of the stone was gone? More importantly, who was gone?

“Get him, Edward. Get him back. Bring him home,” he heard Winry's voice command him. Edward nodded his head, feeling her desperation and anger inside of him. He straightened out his long red cloak and fixed his stare on the doors of the Great Hall.

“It sure has been too long,” he huffed, the fire burning back in his eyes. Edward kicked the doors open and marched into the large room which was cluttered with students in their color-coded robes sitting at long dinner tables. A small group of first years were scattered in the middle of the aisle waiting to be sorted into their respective houses. The roar of applause from the previously announced was hushed almost instantly into still silence when they caught sight of the stranger entering the room. Edward felt all the eyes fall on him as he stormed his way up to the head table where all the professors sat in shock. His intentions were locked on one. The grey-bearded bastard sat on his grand throne and watched him knowingly as he stared back.

“Where is he?!” Edward shouted at the Headmaster of the school, who was wiser than his years had let on. He shoved a first-year out of the way who didn’t have the mind to clear the road. He was done fooling around. “Where is Flamel? Where is the stone?” The headmaster blinked a couple of times as if he didn’t understand what he had just said. 

“Why, Paracelsus,” the headmaster said with a welcoming smile that did nothing to reach his eyes, “I must inform you that you are speaking in old english and I am afraid I can’t understand you.”

“WHERE IS FLAMEL!” Edward raged in the modern tongue just for the headmaster as he slammed his hands down on the table. He had forgotten the new language as he had been so comfortable talking to Mustang earlier. He heard shocked gasps behind him from the students who probably thought he was going to murder their headmaster. To their credit, it wasn't a far-fetched idea. Albus Dumbledore looked a little more satisfied now as he stood up from his chair and walked around the table to meet him.

“Suppose we should talk about these rather personal matters somewhere else? Maybe after the feast?”

“I have been chasing that bastard for over six of your lifetimes! If you tell me to wait one more minute-”

“Paracelsus-”

“My name is Edward you stupid fool. Do you honestly not remember or have the years gotten to your head? They haven’t gotten to mine,” he hissed at him. Albus just shone a small smile at him like he normally did and gave no other reaction. Edward felt the anger in him completely ignite as the man toyed with him. He grabbed the old wizard by the collar of his robes much to the fear of everyone in the room and brought him down to his level. Edward’s golden eyes latched onto the headmaster with a cold burning glare that could only come from an older brother's fury.

 “Now, where is my little brother? Where is the stone!” The anger bubbled inside of him. “You have been hiding it from me. I know you have been talking to Flamel-“

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” he heard a smiling voice say from the table. Edward looked up for a brief moment to see a rather decorated, overly-dressed wizard smiling at them. He looked as if this entire scene was a joke and for an instant, Edward felt as if he preferred the Headmaster’s company over his. The man gracefully rounded the table, his cloak billowing behind him and the smile still plastered on his face.

“I am sure that this dilemma can be a little… vexing but we must keep in mind proper manners,” his charming voice chuckled. “We are at a feast! We have guests! I am sure you can bash each other’s brains out some other time but here we must remind ourselves who we are talking to. You, young sir, need to remember how to talk to frail elders. We didn’t earn all these titles for nothing. Why I, myself, am Order of Merlin, Third Class, an Honourary Member of the Dark Force Defence League; and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. But even with all these titles at such a beautifully young age, I know when and how it is proper to talk to my elders. As they say, children should be seen and not heard!”

Edward stared in annoyed disbelief at the man the entire world knew as Gilderoy Lockhart. He had heard almost everything about the man within the first five minutes he stepped back into the Wizarding world. It was a horrible new Fanclub of witches buying the man’s narcissistic books just to find out the bravest adventure he went on which was all a figure of his imagination. The overly confident man now was scolding him like a child for interrogating Dumbledore a man who was bridging 100 years of age and very well known in the entire wizarding world. Now, Edward knew he looked young, nothing over 16 years of course, but in his case, very severely, looks betrayed his years. He turned back to Dumbledore who, under his professional mask, looked just as annoyed as he was.

“You hired this fucking idiot, didn’t you?” Edward asked the man who just raised his eyebrows ever so slightly as if to admit they all make mistakes. He heard some snickers pick up from a few of the faculty members, but they quickly died out. Lockhart had his feathers ruffled and his face turned a little red in embarrassment. For such a man, he didn't seem to take to humility.

“I’ll have you know-” Lockhart started but Edward cut him off, ignoring the fool entirely. He didn't have time to mess with most people, him least of all.

“Albus, I have been searching for this stone for too long. You know that it is rightfully mine. Now, tell me where Flamel is hiding! I know it's here!” he pressed. However, the headmaster continued to smile cheerily as Edward felt the smooth wood of a wand press into the side of his neck.

“Well, for a man who has been searching for over half a millennia, three silly first years seemed to have outwitted you,” the slick voice of the offending wizard said behind him. Edward glanced back to see a black-robed professor standing behind him with his wand pointed at him. He didn’t even hear the man sneak up. “Headmaster, I have two boys, I am sure you know which two, down in my office. They need to be expelled properly by their head of house.”

“Expelled, Severus?” Dumbledore stated as if the word evaded him.

“They better be for what they have done.”

“Very well. I will see to them,” the headmaster said completely ignoring the fact that Edward still hung onto him by the collar of his robes.

“I am not done here!” Edward growled at the two of them. “I will not leave here without the stone. I know it is here! Where is Flamel? Where is he?”

“Why, Master Elric,” Dumbledore said like his questions were childish. Edward tightened his grip around the man, threatening him as he was pushing the line just a little too far. The headmaster seemed a little phased by this and Edward felt the wand press harder into his neck from the man behind him. “Flamel is gone.”

“He’s what?!” Edward exclaimed as he realized that yet again, he was too late. He had been chasing that child around the entire world for ages just for him to slip through his fingers once more. He was gone and now the chase had to start over. How long would it be this time until he caught up to him? A hundred years? A thousand? Edward felt all the fire, all of the rage, smothered in him as his hope of finding the stone that evening was crushed.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit. That fucking skalpie-limmer is probably halfway to bloody Paris by now," he growled loudly as he released Dumbledore’s robes. Some of the faculty held stricken looks as they heard him curse in front of a whole school full of kids. He didn't care. They would learn eventually, probably newer, and more insulting ones than the vocabulary he still held. They were so close to catching Flamel once and for all, but he always slipped through their fingers. He was always one step ahead of them. They had made a week's trek all the way there from the last place they caught him in but now it was pointless to stay in the castle any longer. They needed to get going, to keep up with that blasted Flamel or else Edward feared he would never find him. As Edward turned to ponder his options, he heard the Headmaster call out to him.

“Master Elric-” he said but didn't get much more out when Edward spun back around with the foulest glare he could muster.

"What? What could you possibly want? Can't you see I am busy?" He felt his fist clench up as glared at the overly smug man across the room.

“Flamel might be gone but the stone is an entirely other matter.”

………..

Harry and Ron sat nervously in the Potion Master’s office awaiting the professor’s return. The two of them knew that they were going to be expelled for sure, especially if Snape was the one to catch them. They had let muggles see them on their flight to Hogwarts in a flying car. They had broken not only the statute of secrecy but also put shame on the Weasley’s name since Mr. Arthur Weasley worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. The two of them were mentally debating if they could have done anything worse that evening or if they topped the list when the Professor returned with McGonagall and Dumbledore no less. They all strode in with disappointed looks on their faces. Well, except for Snape who looked like he couldn't be happier for their upcoming expulsion. Harry had seen McGonagall mad only a few times and each one of them was just as frightening as the last however the anger that showed on the witch’s face that evening topped it all.

“Explain yourselves, the both of you!” she ordered the both of them, her voice tense with rage. Harry and Ron looked at each other, silently asking who was going to tell but the Professor didn’t await their answers. “Driving a car! In the sky! Through Muggle London! Why didn’t you send an owl? Why didn’t you wait for your parents?” she scolded in absolute hysteria. Her voice turned more shrill as she yelled at them as if even she couldn't believe their stupidity.

“We- we didn’t think-”

“Obviously! Ronald Weasley, I will be sending a letter home to your parents this evening about what you two have done-"

"But Professor, my mum will kill me-"

"That is if I don't kill you first!" McGonagall shut the redhead up instantly. Ron was always a pale person, but Harry saw him turn into a ghost as he clamped his mouth shut and accepted his impending doom. After a small snort, Professor McGonagall turned to him and narrowed her eyes in disappointment. "As for you Potter-”

“Potter?” a new voice said in the small audience to their expulsion. Harry looked over to see the stranger he had spotted earlier that evening. The man wore a thick red travel cape and had the oddest golden eyes that Harry had ever seen. He briefly wondered if he used a spell to make them appear almost like molten gold. However, as the man approached him, Harry realized that he was young. Harry had thought the stranger was older, but he appeared to be about the same age that he and his friends were, if not only a couple of years older. His wrinkle-less face looked unamused and rather impatient, but his eyes were studying him a bit, much like everyone who had ever first met him.

“This is Harry Potter? The one that’s supposed to kill your Moldywarts fellow?” the kid asked Dumbledore instead of asking him directly. Harry was slightly relieved to not have that pressure on him but found it very odd how casually the kid spoke with the Headmaster. Everyone in the room seemed to stiffen at the man’s mockery of Voldemort’s name however the headmaster ignored his jab and just nodded his head silently in confirmation. The golden eyes returned to Harry for a moment before a light chuckle of disbelief escaped the stranger's mouth. “Well. Good luck with that!” he laughed as he spun around and headed towards the door. “Albus, I am going to your office. Come meet me when you are done.”

“Master Elric please don’t make a mess-”

“Of course, I am going to make a mess. I am going to raid it,” the man retorted rudely as he slammed the door behind him. Harry was stunned by the man’s presence but it was short-lived as his fate was yet again being discussed amongst the professors.

“Who was that?” Ron whispered to Harry.

“None of your concern Mr. Weasley!” Professor McGonagall scolded him. “The only business you should concern yourself with is the punishment you both are going to get for this foolishness!”

“We’ll go get our stuff-”

“What on earth do you mean?” she barked at the redhead once more.

“We’re being expelled aren’t we?” Ron asked, not wanting to drag the punishment on for too much longer.

“I am afraid not, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said softly, easing their worries once and for all. “Though if you would like to leave, it could be arranged-”

“No!” Harry begged the man as he even suggested that be an option. There was no way on earth he was going to spend the rest of his lifetime as a muggle living with the Dursleys. The Headmaster chuckled lightly as he gave Harry a knowing smile.

“As I was saying before Master Elric rudely interrupted,” McGonagall huffed. “I am notifying your parents. Both of you will be serving detention for the entire first semester. And if this should happen again you will be packing your bags and walking home!”

“Now, with this issue being taken care of, I think we all better get back to the feast. I have some notices I need to announce,” Dumbledore said cheerily with a clap of his hands.

“Albus, what about Master Elric? He’s in your office,” McGonagall hissed fearfully.

“Well. He can use this time to search my office. I don’t think he would get very far on his own.”

“But Albus-” Severus started to add but Dumbledore cut him off.

“As Mr. Lockhart pointed out earlier he is my elder, but he also doesn’t seem to run out of time. I on the other hand am pressed with my years so I think he could wait just a bit longer.”

…….

“Where is he? He’s taking too damn long!” Edward raged as he opened another drawer and dumped out all the papers and artifacts held within. The office hung a mess as Edward ran through it toppling over papers, tearing books off of the shelves, and opening drawers. The doorway hung a jar as he didn’t know the new headmaster’s password to enter so he had to force his way in with alchemy.  The poor griffin statue lay in a worse state.

“Edward calm down. Stop making a mess!” Winry scolded him silently.

“You know you aren’t going to find it,” Mustang’s voice huffed at him.

“I know that! I just want to trash this bastard's office. And if I so happen to find it along the way-”

“Which you aren’t-”

“He’s my brother. I have to try-”

“And he’s our friend. We are telling you to rest. The wizard shouldn’t be long,” Winry’s soft voice stated. Edward paused in his search and closed his eyes as he listened to Winry’s guidance yet again. Her voice was gentle and had grounded him through all the years he was searching for the stone. Every time he heard her voice it seemed to ease his worry. Yes, it shouldn’t be long. He knew Dumbledore had the stone somewhere. A few more minutes shouldn’t hurt, right? “Relax Edward.”

“Fine. Fine,” Edward huffed as he collapsed down in the Headmaster’s chair, not without taking a few more drawers and dumping the contents onto the floor just for the sake of it. He knew that the wizard wouldn’t hold an all-powerful legendary object in a desk drawer but he took pleasure in destroying the man’s office.

“You are 1016 years old and you still act like a rebellious teenager.”

“Shut up, Hohenheim,” Edward huffed as he rested his head on the desk, watching the door for the expected headmaster.

“You should try acting your age for once.”

“If I acted my age I would be dust in a casket six feet under. Which honestly doesn’t sound that bad at this point,” Edward grumbled as he sat back and kicked his feet up on the desk. He heard an annoyed sigh from his old man and silence followed, much to his own pleasure. His foot tapped the air silently as he waited for the wizards to finish up their ceremony. He felt anxious just sitting there, waiting. Though he had all of the time in the world, quite literally, he was never a patient person.

“That’s it I can’t sit here,” Edward announced as he jolted up from the chair and started to pace around with the built-up energy inside of him. He felt nervous, scared really. He feared what would happen when he did get the stone. Would he still be there? He had to be.

“Edward calm down. Everything will be okay.” Winry told him.

“I know it's just… I can’t just wait here. I need to make sure he’s okay,” Edward sighed. “Out of the millions of people why…. Why did Flamel have to take him?”

“It could have been anyone. Flamel didn’t know what he was dealing with-”

“He did! He knew! He knew just as well as anyone could and-"”

“Master Elric, I am afraid you are talking in old English again and I can’t understand you,” the calm voice of the Headmaster said as the old man walked up the makeshift set of stairs Edward had created out of alchemy and into his office. He didn’t wear the calm facade of a smile anymore since there weren’t any students around. It was all business now. The headmaster made his way towards his desk, waving his wand at random pieces of paper as he passed. They soared harmlessly back into their appropriate places in drawers and on shelves and the room was slowly cleaned up. Dumbledore took his seat and Severus Snape who had followed him, stood across from it waiting for Edward’s input on the matter. He looked unamused at the whole ordeal.

  “Where is my stone, Albus?” Edward growled as he marched over towards the headmaster.

“Your stone? Why Master Elric, I must tell you that in Nicolas’s last will and testament he gave the stone to me to protect and use. So in fact it is now my stone.”

“You?! Will? He's dead?" Edward exclaimed in disbelief. It was only three years ago he had him cornered in Kowalski's Quality Baked Goods. Flamel escaped by apparation leaving a trail of small pastries in his wake. He still had to be out there. Even without the stone, Nicolas still was out there. If he was dead, Edward would never get the chance to kick his ass for what he has done. Seeming to sense his worry, though not fully understanding how it was directed, Dumbledore smiled reassuringly.

"No. Nicolas should still have a few months under his belt. He is living happily back in France with his wife. They had just finished up their living wills which entailed giving the stone over to me," he said calmly, though gravely mistaken in thinking that it would make him happier.

"That two-timing no good son of a fucking bitch!" Edward raged as his frustration grew. "I am going to kill him-"

"And normal people would think it a relief to hear that someone isn't dead-" Severus noted sarcastically. Edward glared at him so violently that he saw the Slytherin professor stiffen slightly.

"With what Nick has done to me I don't give a damn if he dies in his bed or gets his soul sucked out by a dementor. As long as I get to kick his ass and teach him a final lesson before he goes I am fine. The stone wasn't even his to give. It is mine. Hell, you don’t even know what you are dealing with!” Edward scolded them. Dumbledore frowned slightly and nodded his head in acceptance.

“I know. I do not know what powers the stone has. But I know it is a rather powerful artifact. Many, many dangerous wizards are after it Master Elric. Which is probably why Nicolas Flamel instructed me to destroy it-”

“NO!” Edward yelled. The anger and fear mixed in his throat as he realized what Dumbledore wanted to do with it. “Dear god, no! You can’t destroy it. You don’t understand!”

“Would you care to enlighten me?” the headmaster hummed as he gently pried into the unknown. Edward crossed his arms and glared defiantly at the man who wasn’t even a tenth of his age. He knew Nicolas and Albus were friends. They worked together on false alchemy, built off the teachings Edward willingly gave to Flamel before he betrayed him. However, he didn’t know how far Albus was going to take the information on the stone. He didn’t know the extent to which Nicolas instructed him. He didn’t trust the man and though he seemed kindhearted under his manipulative mind, Edward didn’t know if Dumbledore would stoop so low as to take a life or more just for the stone's creation. He tapped his foot impatiently before letting out a huff of hot air.

“I taught Nicolas Flamel under the name of my father, Paracelsus. I know he probably mentioned me only a couple of times in his flight. We didn’t separate on the best of terms. But he must have taught you some aspects of alchemy like equivalent exchange, correct?” Edward stated as if he were telling Albus his own story. The headmaster kept quiet and just nodded his head, begging him to continue. But Edward just narrowed his eyes and stood off with the man. “The stone is thought to be the one thing to bypass it all. Some consider it a get-out-of-jail-free card but it isn't. It follows the first law as much as anything else in this world and the toll is so much greater than anyone can imagine. Now give it back to me. I need to take it home.”

“I am afraid not,” Dumbledore sighed, upset about not receiving a straight answer. It seemed that over his years of learning alchemy, he still couldn’t figure out the basis of Equivalent Exchange. Edward couldn’t believe he felt disappointment in Flamel for not teaching this man better. “I am keeping it safe until the day I find someone I can trust to give it to.”

“And you trusted Nicolas, someone who quite literally stabbed me in the back just to steal it from me?” Edward asked him rhetorically as if the idea of trusting Flamel blasphemy was.

“Yes, I did,” Dumbledore said with a threatening spark in his eye. “But fortunately for you, I think you are both similar.”

“I am nothing like that cheating bastard!” he growled.

“Life is a hard thing, Master Elric. Some, like Nick and yourself, brave to endure more than the rest of us can bare. But," he hummed lightly, lifting his finger as if to make a point, "eventually we must all come to accept the end result; death. It might just take some people a couple hundred more years to prepare themselves for it."

“Accept death? Well he sure accepted it now!” Edward spat at him. “He left the stone behind as he ran off to die a glorious and romantic death with his lover. Couldn’t stand the ‘forever’ part of immortality! He’s a naive idiot who just takes what he wants and doesn’t deal with the consequences.”

"What's so important that you need the stone for?" Severus asked. “With the dangerous power and the cost you keep mentioning, immortality seems to be wasted on someone who hid from the world for the last millennia.” Edward chuckled cruelly at the young potion’s master as he simply didn’t understand. The greasy man looked quite offended at the insult to his intellect.

“Don’t worry, Severus, Nicolas and now seemingly Albus still didn’t figure it out. Not even after all these years,” he stated, eyeing the headmaster in disappointment. “The stone was never supposed to exist. But now that it does, it is my job to return it home. I protect it because I am the only one who can. Until the day I can return the stone home I will protect it unlike the wizards here who just want to use it for themselves. You might not trust me but I don’t trust you to treat them the way I have. It isn’t a weapon you can wield. It isn’t something you can just throw in a drawer and forget about. And that is all I have seen you wizards treat it like! Now give me the stone. I will not leave here without it.” Edward finished and lifted his hand up as if Dumbledore would just succumb to his words and place the philosopher’s stone right in the palm of his hand. Unfortunately, the headmaster had other ideas.

“I have no intention to keep it from you. After this conversation, I will give it to you regardless of what happens. But as for leaving the castle, I am afraid I cannot have you take it off Hogwart’s grounds until we ensure the full safety of this relic.”

“You act like this school is impenetrable. It's just a castle and all walls fall eventually. How safe do you really think it is going to be here?”

“Enough for the time being,” Dumbledore sighed. Edward frowned in aggravation as he knew the wizard was trying all he could to keep the stone for the sole reason of using it as leverage against him. This argument was going nowhere and he knew that the man wouldn’t change his position no matter what he said. He was going to be on the wrong side of this debate no matter what. He could have stolen the stone and made off with it if only he knew where it was kept. Knowing wizards, it was somewhere even someone of his power couldn’t access without a wand. They were full of tricks and even with as many years of experience as he had with them, he couldn’t see through them all.

“I am not going to jump through your hoops. This stone isn’t something you can just trade for. I know what you are trying to do and I don’t like it. Just return them to me,” Edward scolded him simply. Dumbledore frowned as Edward had known what he was trying to do. The headmaster was treating him like a kid whom he could trick into making him eat their vegetables. He sighed as he leaned back on the desk tiredly.

“All it will take is one year at Hogwarts. To you, this will be like seconds out of your lifespan.”

“A year is a year regardless of how long you live,” Edward growled but let the man continue otherwise.

“I would like you to teach at Hogwarts for one year. I have a small group of people I trust, most of whom are faculty at this school-”

“So, you would give the stone to Lockhart over me? I didn't know the standard of competency fell over the last thousand years.” Edward asked only mildly amused at the man’s notion. The man looked rather annoyed at his suggestion.

“He hasn’t served his term here at Hogwarts so he is in quite the same position as you.”

“Once you give me the stone, nothing is stopping me from just walking out of here with it,” Edward stated flatly, getting annoyed that Albus was wasting his time on something he could so easily avoid.

“Yes, you might want to do that but I can think you would choose to stay,” the man hummed tiredly as he shuffled his way over to an old standing mirror in his office. It looked dirty and dusty, nothing important. For a second Edward thought he was just trying to be dramatic, which anyone above the age of 99 likes to be, but then he saw Dumbledore simply slip his hand through the glass of the mirror like it was water and protrude with the red glowing philosophers stone resting in his palm. Before anyone had any sense to stop him, Edward clapped his hands and slapped them to the ground. The stone floor rose quickly up and slapped the headmaster’s hand, sending the stone flying. Edward snatched it out of its flight with his hand and cradled it to his chest as if he were afraid that the wizards would take it once more. Dumbledore stood there with a grandfatherly look on his face, rubbing his sore hand as Severus pulled his wand out to face him. Edward just turned his back on the foolish wizard and looked down at the stone.

He felt the presence of the 10,000 souls now more than ever as it sat right before them. He could name all of the people who laid within it. He knew their names, their families, and their desperation to get back home. However, he also knew that a few of them were gone with the years of use Flamel had put them through. Fear rose in his throat as he turned the stone in his hand.

“Please be there, please be there, please be there,” Edward begged himself and all of the forces of the world as the stone started to light up in his hand. It ignited in life’s flame and he gently pressed it to his chest where it melted into his skin and joined the other part of itself. He felt an overwhelming feeling of joy from the millions of souls inside of him as they rejoiced the return of their friends and their families but the fear inside him just grew tenfold. With that many added at once, they were all disoriented. He couldn’t find the one person he was looking for.

“Winry, do you see him?” Edward asked desperately, ignoring the stares of the wizards behind him as he talked to himself. Edward had learned chi from Lin Yao in his long years however it unfortunately was a near useless power when dealing with the massive presence of life within him. He couldn’t even feel the presence of his own brother.

“We are looking, Edward, but I don’t see him anywhere,” Winry replied, her own fear noticeable in her voice. In response, Edward quickly clapped his hands and touched the floor again, this time a perfectly forged suit of armor. It was a familiar face, identical to the one he knew in his childhood but now it stood empty. Edward feared it always would.

 The glowing red array started to etch its way through the air as Edward begged that he could fill that armor with life. He summoned with all his might the soul he had been missing for 600 years. At first, no soul fire appeared in his palm. He knew finding one in a million would have been difficult, but he still tried to call it forth. He needed to know. Suddenly a low spark spat out of his fingertips and ignited into the brightest red fire he had ever seen. It danced across his fingers with such ferocity that he knew it had to be him. In desperation, Edward cast the fire through the array and it was sealed to the armored figure before him. It shook and rattled as the lifeless form got used to its consciousness and after the raging fire died out, the office stood still in silence. Edward raced over to the suit of armor and grabbed it by the shoulder plates, looking into the helmet’s eyes which now glowed dimly red.

“Al? Are you there? Alphonse!?” Edward asked the empty suit desperate for an answer. Suddenly the suit shook and its back straightened out, eyes brightening.

“B-brother?” the armor asked as if he wasn’t sure it was really him but after a second of assessment he snapped together. “Brother! You’re here!” Alphonse’s voice exclaimed as the armor scooped Edward up in his bone-crushing metallic hug. Though Edward would usually whine about being suffocated, at this point he didn’t care. He embraced his little brother as if he hadn’t done it his entire life.

“Alphonse, I am sorry. It has been too long. I was scared that he-”

“It’s alright, I am here. I wouldn’t leave you,” his little brother whispered softly as he let Edward go and set him back on the floor. Edward tugged on his cape to straighten it out and caught his breath which was nearly squeezed out of him. Alphonse started to pat himself down as he wasn't used to having a physical body again. He seemed shocked that he was even standing at all. Over 600 years they had been apart and Alphonse was trapped in the stone that Flamel had stolen. Now he was free. Edward punched him playfully, relief flooding through him like wildfire. He felt the fear that he held over the years melt away seeing his brother standing there with him, even if he was just a suit of armor.

However, the wizards didn't share their joy or relief. They stood rather baffled in the corner of the room, as they watched a new conscious form talk excitedly in a foreign tongue. By the time there was a break in their reunion, the wizards thought it was ample time to start asking what had happened.

“Who is this?” Dumbledore asked calmly as he stepped forward from where he waited patiently by the mirror. Though his face looked happy with the new company in the room, his eyes screamed with fear and confusion. Magic could make objects move but only powerful magic could give them actual life and consciousness. Albus really didn’t know what he was playing with when he held the stone. Edward glared at the man as he turned to face him full-on, his anger growing tenfold.

“Did you figure it out yet? What the stone really is? Or are you still confused because I could sort that out for you right now,” Edward growled as he rolled up his black sleeves and started towards the man. Severus jumped between them, defensively holding up his wand as if it would have any effect in slowing him down but before any fight could break out, Alphonse stuck his arm out and stopped his brother.

“Um… sir, I am his little brother, Alphonse Elric. I am sorry if he has been a bit… tense-”

“Al!” Edward retorted defensively. "They had you locked in a mirror! They treated you like an old antique!" But he was unheard by the rest of the rooms occupants as they just stared at each other. Edward saw that Severus didn’t put his wand away and he rolled his eyes as he slapped the wand out of his face with his bare hand.

 “Put that away. It isn’t like it could do anything useful anyway,” Edward huffed under his breath. The potions master was rather offended but took Edward’s advice and returned his wand to his robes.

“How-” Dumbledore started to ask, wanting answers to the questions he had but Edward gave him a stern look.

“Alchemy," he said flatly. It seemed wizards liked to give a vague explanation of wandwork by just summing it up as magic so that was all Edward was going to give them about his science. He turned away and started towards the door which still hung ajar from his transmutation of it. “Come on Alphonse, let’s go. We need to find Flamel before he passes so I can give him a piece of my mind. I know Mustang would like a piece of him too for what he has done.”

“The Colonel, Brother?” Alphonse asked. Edward nearly stopped in his tracks as he realized Alphonse didn’t know what had happened to the rest of them that night which Flamel took him. He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. A lot has happened to them both and it has just been too long.

“Alphonse… I’ll… I think it is about time we caught up on a few things. I'll tell you later,” he mumbled to his younger sibling. The armor looked a little worried for him, afraid of what might have happened, but he nodded his head and agreed to a later date. Now wasn’t the time.

As they reached the door, Edward heard the annoying and persistent voice of the headmaster call to him.

“Master Elric, what about the teaching position?” he asked calmly.

“Find some other idiot like Lockhart to fill it. We apparently are on the same level of competency so he should do fine,” Edward snapped without even stopping to turn around. He wanted to get out of there. They had waited too long. He stormed out the door and quickly replaced the entrance to the office to its original form. He doubted he would be going back in there for a very long time. As he and his brother wandered through the halls of the huge castle towards the large entrance doors, Alphonse questioned him.

“What was that teaching position the headmaster was talking about?” his voice rang out.

“Bah,” Edward brushed off, still angered about the man’s deceit. “He tried to barter you. He wanted me to work in the castle just to get all of you back.”

“And you’re not doing it? Brother you never break a promise-”

“I didn’t promise him shit. Trying to barter people's lives…. I could never imagine doing that."

"But brother, maybe he didn't know. He didn't understand-"

"Well, he should have! It's very obvious what the stone is made of. Any person who wants to call themselves an alchemist should know equivalent exchange and he obviously doesn't!" Edward argued. However, he couldn't stay angry, it was over with, and it was pointless to drag it on. He sighed as he stuffed his hands in his pockets as they strode down through the entrance hall.

"Besides he gave you back regardless. So it was more of a suggestion than an agreemen- oof!” he staggered back as his body felt like it ran into a brick wall. They were right at the door, about to leave the castle for good but for some reason, his body wouldn’t move. He tried to take a step forward but it was as if there was an invisible barrier blocking his path.

“What is going on?” Alphonse asked as he tried to stick his armored hand out of the doorway but came upon the same obstacle. “Magic,” he muttered to himself as he touched the invisible force, trying to figure out what was causing it.

“ALBUS!” Edward raged as he spun around to see that the headmaster and his fellow teacher had followed them out to the door. The old man held a slim smile under his beard as if he had them caught. For all Edward knew, he had. “What did you do?” There was a slight gasp from Alphonse as if he remembered something.

“Brother!” he hissed as it seemed the younger sibling was now, too, getting angry. “Detinentum!”

“What?”

“I was in the castle for a long time. I remember! The headmaster was worried about someone coming to get us last year. He hid us in that mirror and cast the detainment spell on the stone so that someone couldn’t steal it and remove us from the grounds! We’re stuck here,” Alphonse told him.

“You and the others?” Edward asked just to get a nod from his brother. The stone was bound within the walls of the castle by a spell the headmaster cast the previous year. With the souls returned within him, Edward was stuck there with them. Albus was right, he wasn’t going to leave the grounds with the stone, not until he was released.

“You bastard. Why did you cast that spell on them? Why did you keep them locked away?” Edward roared as he turned on the headmaster, absolutely furious. “Weren’t you the one who said the castle was ‘safe enough’? Who was after it that got you so scared for its safety?”

“Voldemort,” the headmaster replied, unfazed by his outburst. “A simple spell was more to slow down the thief if anything were to happen. Luckily Voldemort was never able to get the stone out of the Mirror of Erised.”

“You mean he got into your castle?” Edward growled in disbelief. He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and looked up to see his brother looking down at him patiently. The look in his eyes told him to calm down before he upset someone. At that moment, Edward wasn’t thinking of upsetting other people, but rather how the others had upset him. He hated the wizarding world, and now he was forcefully stuck in it.

“Give me the counter spell,” Edward ordered the bearded man who just stood there smugly, denying his request.

“Why, you attended Hogwarts when it first began. You are a wizard. Shouldn’t you be able to figure it out by yourself?” Albus hummed, playing the same card that he previously did in the office.

“I am not a wizard. I want nothing to deal with you crazy weirdos and your magic. The spell is Vacatio but I don’t have my wand anymore!” he hissed at the man. “Why don’t you just chain us up in the dungeon if you want us to stay here, huh?”

“If you want to that could be arranged,” the potions master said slyly, making Alphonse take a couple steps back from the man.

“Relax, alchemists,” the headmaster said calmly. “I will give you the counter spell after final exams. That gives you just enough time to teach alchemy this coming year.”

“I will do no such thing,” Edward barked. “I don’t trust anyone in this world with alchemy, especially not you wizards. That is why I let it die off. The wizarding world isn’t ready for alchemy. Nicolas proved it in the 14th century, and you are proving it now. I will not teach it.”

“As I remember someone saying to me before, ‘A world without alchemy is a world without order,” Dumbledore quoted from someone Edward highly suspected was Flamel.

“A world without alchemy would be the same as it always was. We are all human. It doesn’t matter what power we can wield. Laws of the universe still exist though most people forget that.”

“You will be teaching the students who will shape the wizarding world in the future. If they knew these laws, maybe the chaos we live in will be less so,” Dumbledore sighed.

"No, you will just have more odd power to do more whacked-up shit! It will be even worse!" Edward exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in disbelief. But something caught him off guard, a thought that lingered in the back of his mind. Edward relaxed and narrowed his eyes as he studied the headmaster who stood a little too smugly. For as much pomp and circumstance the man was throwing out, there was an underlying desperation around him. Edward knew exactly now what the man wanted him to do.

“This isn’t about me teaching at all. This is about that stupid war and the prophecy. You want me in on it.”

“You are right. This is about prophecies, though not really the one you are thinking of. It is mostly to help you,” Albus confirmed. Edward let out a cruel chuckle which then turned into an outrageous fit of laughter. Everyone grew silent as he let himself wrap around the hilarity of the moment. It was not funny at all.

“You lured me all the way here for the stone, tried to barter human lives, and trapped me here just so I would have to participate in this war you all are brewing in your little cauldrons? I have seen enough pathetic prophecies pass in my lifetime. I have seen enough wars to know how they all end. That Potter kid doesn’t stand a chance.”

“He is still in schooling.”

“You don’t even trust in his abilities!” Edward retorted promptly.

“Harry Potter is still young. If he were older, I would have to disagree. But until he comes of age, I am afraid that he can only go so far on luck,” the man sighed.

“Harry Potter?” Alphonse asked quietly. Edward and the two professors nodded their heads to the quiet suit of armor. “He saved us last year!” he exclaimed. Edward stared dumbfounded at his little brother, feeling a little betrayed by his innocent statement of events. Dumbledore smiled, glad that at least he and Alphonse seemed to see eye to eye for a short moment.

“Yes, he did. Along with his friends, he managed to find the Sorcerer’s Stone and stop Voldemort from laying his hands on it.”

“So now you are saying that the castle isn’t even safe enough to stop a couple of first years!” Edward said hysterically.

“Brother,” Alphonse said in his knowing tone. Edward glared at his little brother knowing what he was going to say.

“No. Getting us involved in their games will only lead to more death and ruin than there needs to be. Voldemort came after the stone already. With me being so close to this boy, he is bound to try and get it again. I will not meddle in their world’s affairs! I will not be tossed around because some hag saw it in their crystal ball.”

“Don’t underestimate divinations. Though often misunderstood, it has seen a lot of things come to pass,” Albus said wisely, though coming out of his mouth Edward knew it was no better than reading a dollar store fortune cookie. Unfortunately for him, it looked like they were both an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Edward couldn’t leave without the counter spell, and Dumbledore would not give in to reason.

“You’re a real bastard you know that? Imprisoning me because of a stupid dream. Child nonsense.” The smile on Albus’s face only grew wider as the two of them understood the position they were in.

“Edward, it’s only a year. We can find a way home after,” Alphonse submitted. Edward felt a sudden swirl of agreement in him as the other souls inside of him liked Alphonse’s kindness. Cheering and voices rang up inside of him all at once, prodding him to give into the offer. It was deafening listening to that many people at once. It was roaring madness. Edward groaned as he clasped his hands over his ears as if that would block out the noise, but it wouldn’t.

“SHUT UP!” he shouted and suddenly, the torment of noise was silenced, leaving only hushed whispers in his wake. He already told all of them not to try and talk to him all at once, but the millions and millions of souls were sometimes forgetful over the years. A roaring headache soared through his head and bounced off the sides of his skull. He moaned as he tried to massage it out, ignoring the confused looks on the wizards’ faces.

“Come on Edward. Accept it now. We can work on a way to get out of here later. Yelling at him all night isn’t going to do anything,” Winry’s whispered. Her voice was so soft it felt like it soothed his headache even for a few seconds. He groaned as he knew that she was right.

“Majority rules I guess?” he mumbled and suddenly a loud roaring cheer drover through him, sending his mind reeling with the noise. “Ack! Shut up already! I get it!” he whined. Edward sighed tiredly as he massaged his head.

“Fine. Whatever. I will teach your fucking class,” he growled, “But, don’t you dare think I will be staying long. Plan for a substitute. I will find a way out of here.”

“As expected,” Dumbledore stated as he seemed ecstatic on his agreement. “Master Elric. You start tomorrow. Your chambers have already been prepared in the Gunhilda Cooridor-”

“Let’s get this over with,” Edward groaned.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

The Lesson

Edward groaned as he marched down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He had spent the entire evening in the headmaster’s office, discussing his arrangements. It seemed like Dumbledore had everything thought out already as if he was expecting him to be so easy to trick. The rest of the evening Edward spent testing all of the other possible exits to the castle in hopes that they would let him through. Unfortunately, he was still trapped there against his will now with Alphonse and Winry yelling at him about trying to escape his promise of teaching. He still argued that he didn't promise the headmaster shit.

With him being so tired, Alphonse had to return to the stone the previous evening because he just didn’t have enough energy to keep him in the armor for much longer. Winry scolded him for not resting up and he knew that it came to bite him in the end. He guessed that until he returned to his full health again with a better night's rest and some food, no one else would have the luxury to roam around the castle by themselves.

“It’s a shame,” Winry huffed. “ I could tell you need automail maintenance.”

“I need a lot of things,” he grumbled as he staggered into the Entrance Hall, imagining that one of those things was a cup of coffee. He spotted the large doors of the castle and for a brief moment, he wanted to test his limits again. Maybe the spell wore off, maybe it was just a trick that Dumbledore was playing on him and his brother. He saw a large and rather hairy faculty member stride right through the doorway, holding a rather beaten cabbage in his hands. Though most people would have found the half-giant rather eccentric, Edward had seen stranger things in his lifetime. Ignoring all common sense that told him he was being too hopeful, Edward inched his way over towards the door. He examined the hinges of the large barricades, the frame, and even the floor but none of it looked peculiar. He knew magic rarely left traces of its existence but he couldn’t help but dream. Just as he was about to reach a hand out to test his boundaries, he heard a light tsk behind him.

“You already know you can’t leave. Why try?” he heard a cool voice behind him. Edward spun around to see the Potions Master staring at him. His face showed slight disappointment as he thought he was smarter than that. Edward felt himself heat up as he saw the professor again. He hated that man’s bluntness. It was too much like his own.

“Why do I have to be trapped in the castle? Why can’t I go outside?” Edward hissed under his breath as he stormed up to the man who was a good foot taller than him. Severus shrugged innocently.

“The detainment spell only works efficiently well inside a foundation of some sort. Outside it would be all relative to approximate boundaries. Too much guesswork,” he simply stated.

“All magic is guesswork,” Edward grumbled.

“Not potions.”

“Yes, well, that I can get behind,” he admitted. When he attended Hogwarts in its founding years, potions was by far his favorite class. It was coordinated, exact, and resembled alchemy in its equations and precision. The two could even collaborate when it came to spagyrics. There was nothing about the wizarding world that he understood better than potions. With an attempted smile from Severus, it seemed that the two of them came to a mutual agreement when it came to fields of study. However, as for the trickery and manipulation that resulted in Edward’s entrapment, they both couldn’t hate each other more.

Severus left towards the Great Hall as he had a stack of schedules to hand out to his house. Edward reluctantly followed the man as he gave up on the door for the time being and decided that it would do him well to get breakfast. Entering the Great Hall, he looked up tiredly to see that all of the students were seated at their appropriate tables just like the previous evening. The heads of the houses were running around with course schedules to give the students for their first day of class. Whispers started to rise as some of the students caught sight of him. Wide eyes stared at him, some scared, some curious, as he walked down the aisle toward the High table.

“Master Paracelsus-”

“It’s not-,” Edward started but turned around to see a rather short and jolly man staring up at him. He held a stack of papers in his hands and he suddenly realised it must have been one of the heads. Edward sighed under his breath and massaged his brow, upset that his irritation had overcome him so rudely. Hohenheim was already reprimanding him for his attitude as they spoke. “Its… Edward… please call me Edward. I don't use that name anymore and I don't like the questions that come with it. And please, none of this Master stuff. I only make Albus do it because it annoys him.”

“Uh… Edward,” the man tested the word out nervously. It seemed that even the professors were intimidated by him. If not for his display the previous evening, they were probably frightened by the fact that he was one of the legendary beings they read about as children. Paracelsus the Eastern Sage. He ‘invented’ alchemy and was practically a god from what Edward had read off of a famous Witch and Wizarding card he found once. However, he could tell that the wizards and witches were greatly out of tune with who he actually was. The picture was a horrible lie. Other than the known fact that he had a metal arm, gold hair, and a red cloak, no one knew what he looked like. They made him look like an old rust bucket rather than a teenager. It looked like Dumbledore decided to inform the staff who he was but Edward doubted that he told them why he was there.

Filius, after playing the simple name around in his mind a few times, worked up the nerve to continue what he had to say.

“Edward, I am Filius Flitwick, head of Ravenclaw. I looked back in the records and I found that you belonged to the Ravenclaw house when you were enrolled here. I have made up your teaching schedule and arrangements as instructed by the headmaster. You are only teaching three years so you have a pretty open schedule-”

“Perfect,” Edward said as he snatched the paper from the professor and looked it over. It seemed that he was only teaching the first three years. That was pretty easy schedule to manage. Only a few classes per day. Edward was wondering what he would do with all of his free time when he realized that the short little professor was still talking, instructing him on what he was to do.

“-Yes, and your classroom is in the Dark Arts tower, right near Gilderoy’s-”

“Good god, why do I have to be next to that idiot?” he mumbled. Flitwick looked a little taken aback but didn’t retort to his rude comment.

“Well, Edward, it is because Dumbledore instructed you to be his assistant-”

“WHAT?” Edward exclaimed as he turned around to the high table to see Dumbledore smiling cheekily at him as if he knew what they were talking about. They had argued all evening about what his job in Hogwarts would be. Edward had agreed to teach the years that would be most influential on the laws of Alchemy; the first three. Nowhere had he agreed to do anything more than that, especially not in the proximity of Lockhart. One day he was going to kill that wizard. Maybe the headmaster hoped that he would try.

“Now, I know you are upset but you two share the same house. Two men of intellect should get along fine-”  Flitwick started to continue but was interrupted by a loud jolly voice.

“Edward! If it isn’t my young helper here to start the day!” the booming and charming voice of Gilderoy Lockhart said. Edward groaned to himself as he turned around to spot the sparkling man striding his way over towards them, his robes billowed in the wind. It was as if everything was a stage to him, and he was always the main act. “I know it might seem difficult with how fast-paced these classes might be but don’t worry! In no time you will get the hang of things and maybe even lead the class!”

“With you there, I suspect someone would have to instruct the students while you are gloating about your teeth,” Edward mumbled under his breath just as Gilderoy wrapped his arm around his shoulder to drag him to the High Table. He couldn’t help but notice the look of awe that had fixed itself upon Flitwick’s face as the man passed.

“Yes I know it might be difficult to grab subjects out of your field but we can’t all be experts on everything! Why just this morning I was helping Pomona Sprout with her- Ah there she is!” Gilderoy announced cheerily. Edward looked over as a short stout woman waddled up to the High Table, her hands all in bandages. They looked to have pained her as she carried a stack of schedules for Hufflepuff House. However, through the pain, she was able to keep a tight glare on Gilderoy. It seemed that hating the man was at least one thing they had in common. “Yes, well just this morning I was helping Pomona with the Whomping Willow. There are specific techniques you must use when doctoring an ancient species like that and I was just giving her a few pointers. It is advice like this you need to be able to catch, Edward, when in my class!”

“Advise? It looks like you nearly crushed her!” Edward exclaimed, suddenly aware of how horribly dangerous Lockhart’s stupidity could be. He might end up killing someone with his arrogance. No wonder he was the man’s assistant, the class might just die if Gilderoy was left to his own devices. However, as if it came at just the right time, Gilderoy’s copy of the newspaper came in by owl and he left to take care of it. Edward could see the man’s face plastered all over the front cover along with the prophecy kid. Seeing that Lockhart gave him the slip, Edward sighed as he turned back to the herbology teacher who was holding her bandaged hands delicately as if she was afraid to hurt them anymore.

“Here,” he said softly. Pomona looked a little hesitant to let him near her. Edward knew that after his entrance the other evening he wasn’t the most approachable person but with a caring look, Pomona finally relented. He clapped his hands together and took the professor’s hands gently. He was careful not to upset them more than they were. There was a satisfying crackle of energy and a little yelp of surprise escaped the woman. “There. Your hands should be healed. However, I would stay away from Lockhart on medical advice… or for anything really.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice about that, young man,” the witch said as if she meant for it to have more power, more snipe, but it came out weak and surprised as she carefully looked at her hands and flexed them lightly. Seeming to deem them suitable for work, she picked up her stack of schedules and went over to the Hufflepuff table to pass them out after another quick word of gratitude. Edward’s smile slowly faded as he turned back towards the high table. All of the professors except for the heads of the houses were seated around it having quiet chatter amongst themselves. Edward saw a few of them glance his way as he approached the table and they suddenly went silent. He lifted his hand as if to wave hello but stopped as he felt a great absence in their invitation to sit with them. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly and quickly piled a plate with food and a goblet with pumpkin juice to take with him to his classroom instead. He picked them up and quickly sped away from the table to get out from underneath the curious looks of the other faculty members. Their chatter quickly picked up the instant he turned his back. Unfortunately, his presence with the students was much the same as they all stared at him, a wave of silence following him. It just made him walk out of there faster.

“ Brother. You should sit with them-”

“Not today…,” Edward said awkwardly as he rounded out of the Great Hall and quickly dodged out of sight of the people within.

………..

“That’s him! That’s the man who interrupted the sorting!” Hermione whispered as she pointed to the golden-haired stranger standing at the High Table with Lockhart. Harry and Ron looked over their shoulders and nodded their heads in surprise.

“That’s the jerk who saw us nearly get expelled!” Ron bit. Hermione glared at him, warning him to watch his language but he just crossed his arms defiantly. “Hey! I am just saying he talked about You Know Who like he is a joke and laughed at Harry because he’s the ‘Boy Who Lived’.”

“I am not the ‘Boy Who Lived’. I am a boy who lived and still is living,” Harry retorted but Ron shrugged him off.

“I am just saying that he’s a stuck-up jerk. He storms in here demanding the stone right in public of everyone and then he mocks Harry. He’s almost as bad as Malfoy.”

“He can’t be evil just because he laughed at me,” Harry told him.

“How about the stone then? Hermione said he was screaming bloody Mary for it last night! You know who else wanted the stone?”

“Voldemort,” Harry replied plainly. They all already knew the answer. All three of them had faced the terror Voldemort unleashed at Hogwarts the previous year. Ron had gotten terribly injured because of it. It was because of the Philosopher’s Stone that Voldemort even stepped foot into the castle. If the new stranger was after it though, it was already too late.

“Dumbledore destroyed the stone, remember?” Hermione reminded Ron but then turned to Harry, wanting to drive the mystery of the new man to new grounds. “But..he did threaten Dumbledore more than once, Harry,” Hermione added. “It was quite scary. For someone barely older than us… to have such power over the headmaster-”

“Needs to be taught a lesson I think,” Ron muttered into his Pumpkin Juice. Hermione slapped him over the shoulder.

“Says the guy who decided to fly a car to Hogwarts!” she scolded them for the hundredth time since they got back to the dormitories the other night.

“We are being taught a lesson!” Ron retorted.

“An entire semester of detention,” Harry numbly added, still upset over their predicament. Hermione looked almost satisfied with their punishment as if it was the perfect point to say I told you so, even though she didn’t know anything about the car until the event had happened. Ron rolled his eyes at their bookworm of a friend and crossed his arms on the table to rest his chin on it.

“I still don’t like this new guy,” he muttered.

“Well, this new guy is going to be your new teacher so I wouldn’t talk so badly about him, Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall suddenly said from behind the three of them. She held a stack of papers in her hand, their schedules. “But I do have to say that a lesson might be good for him,” she continued as if agreeing with Ron’s ignorant comment was normal. They all stared up at her wide-eyed as she separately handed them their schedules in turn. Hermione eagerly looked hers over as she had organized all of her classes already in her own binder. She just wanted to double-check their accuracy. But suddenly she frowned as she caught sight of a class that she didn’t even remember seeing in the course catalog let alone remember scheduling for.

“Professor, I think there is something wrong with my schedule,” she said, stopping the head of Gryffindor from continuing her rounds. However, Professor McGonagall didn’t even have to look to know what the problem was.

“It was last minute, Ms. Granger. All first through third years were signed up for Alchemy this year-”

“What in the world is that?” Ron asked. McGonagall raised her eyebrow at the redhead as he seemed to forget that he was talking to a professor. She pushed the bridge of her glasses back up on her nose and resituated the pile of papers in her hands.

“It is an ancient and lost form of magic. It’s supposed to be very powerful but to be honest with you Mr. Weasley, I haven’t got the slightest clue as to what it is about,” she said leaving the conversation at that as she went to the other tables to pass out the rest of the class schedules. Ron watched her leave and then the instant she was out of earshot he leaned towards the two of them and whispered harshly.

“She’s like a hawk!” Hermione rolled her eyes and picked up her schedule again.

“Alchemy by Professor Edward Elric,” she mumbled as she read it over. “I wonder what that’s about.”

“Wait are you telling me even you don’t know?” Ron asked as if it was blasphemy.

“I mean we heard it before. Alchemy was used by Nicolas Flamel to create the philosopher's stone. But... I don't really know what it does," she admitted. 

“It can't be just for making powerful rocks,” Ron said. Suddenly Harry tapped the both of them on the shoulder and pointed back up to the High Table.

“I suppose it might be that.” Hermione and Ron turned to see the new alchemy professor holding Professor Sprout's horribly bandaged hands. An electric sizzle shot through the air as blue light ignited in the palm of the man’s hand. When the blinding light calmed down, the herbology teacher quickly unraveled the bandages to find her hands completely healed. It was all done without the use of a wand. The three Gryffindors looked at each other all terrified of what they had gotten themselves into this year of Hogwarts.

…………

Edward groaned as he slumped across his desk and watched the students roll into his classroom, a full stomach but with one more headache. He had just had a battle with the house elves, one of which came to retrieve his meal plates. They had counted in the kitchen that one set was missing and they desperately wanted to clean it. Edward told the elf that he was going to take it to the kitchens when he was done but the elf was hungry for work. In the end, Edward shoveled his meal into his mouth as the house elf was walking out the door with his plate, thinking that he was done. Now, Edward needed to eat, but he didn't need to eat a lot anymore. He went a very long time on his journey to find his brother without food and it didn’t seem to have an impact on his lifespan. However, he enjoyed eating food as it got rid of that gnawing pain in his stomach and gave him energy for the day. After all without energy, he couldn’t attach any of the stone’s souls to a physical body, even for a short amount of time. It just took too much out of him. But breakfast wasn’t as enjoyable as he remembered it to be back in Amestris and so he had to suffer throughout his day with the best Hogwarts had to offer; impatient house elves and watered-down pumpkin juice. What he wouldn’t do for a small sip of fire whiskey.

“Edward you can’t get drunk. It is physically impossible,” Roy reminded him of his many attempts to drown himself when he had first come to Europe. He had spent hours in bars and getting kicked out of them just to find it had no effect whatsoever aside from the fact that it burned his throat and left a good bitter taste in his mouth that mixed quite well with his sorrows.

“I might have to just find a way if I am going to be spending my entire time in Lockhart’s class,” Edward growled under his breath.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you tried,” Roy’s voice mumbled right before the man got a scolding from Alphonse for encouraging his drinking habits. Edward rolled his eyes as he stood up and closed the door behind the last student. If people were late it sucks to be them. He had no time to waste on a couple of late students. He had a single important lesson to teach.

It looked up at what appeared to be his second-year class. It was the third period of the day and they all seemed worn down even though it was just their first day. Edward thought they were faring far better than he was.

Harry was sitting in the third row of the class with his redheaded friend Edward remembered from the other evening. They seemed like normal kids aside from the fact that the Potter boy was apparently a prophecy. However, that was just his fault. No prophecy Edward had ever known was normal. They were all heroes blessed by spells or the gods even though the wars never ended well in their favor. Harry didn't have a fighting chance. He was just ordinary.

As Edward looked around the class at his new group of students he caught a Gryffindor girl with brown bushy hair reading a rather large textbook near the Potter kid. She seemed associated with them and he assumed that they were friends. However, he could tell she was a bookworm and probably should have been in Ravenclaw by the way she liked to read. It was obvious that she wanted to get a head start on the class because she was reading the only book in the library known for its alchemical content úðwitlic ærendgewrit or the girl's version of The Fundamental Study. And of course, out of everyone it could have been written by it had to be Nicolas Flamel.

“Stay calm it is just a book, ” Hohenheim reminded him.

"That bastard is fucking up my work and publishing it!" Edward hissed back under his breath as he strode over to where the girl was comfortably seated next to the Potter boy and snatched the book out of her hands. She looked like she wanted to argue as she was surprised by the disappearance of her book but bit her tongue as she caught sight of exactly who took it. Frightened, or at least very intimidated by him, she kept quiet as Edward looked over the book that she was reading. It was very thorough but very wrong. Nicolas always liked to try and mix the two arts of magic and alchemy against Edward’s scoldings. Managed to blow his house up more than once.

He glanced down at the girl for a few seconds to see her glowering at him for stealing her book. He smirked lightly as he snapped it shut, making a light pop as the pages collided together. When Edward went to school he would often read in class while the teacher was lecturing. He remembered when Professor Gryffindor used to steal his books to prevent him from reading during his class. He didn't doubt that he wore the same expression the girl did when he had his words ripped right out from under his nose.

"It makes me think that you should be in Ravenclaw with how much you read," Edward mused as he studied the cover of the worn book. It was a newer print, translated into modern English for young readers. "Professor Ravenclaw would be very happy with you." The girl smiled a little bit, seeming to ignore the fact that her book was taken. It seemed that she didn't get compliments a lot at all. Most bookworms didn't.

"However," Edward sighed as he tucked the book underneath his arm securely, "for your choice in reading, less so. If you don't mind I am going to return this to the library for you." Her smile dropped instantly.

“But Professor we don’t have textbooks  I was just-”

“I know you don’t have textbooks and you never will. Definitely not this one because everything in this book is absolute rubbish,” Edward told her. “Nicolas Flamel, may heaven curse his name, is possibly the worst alchemist in the entire world. He isn't even an alchemist at all by my standards. Any book ever published on the subject of alchemy, if it wasn't published by me, is a bunch of bullshit. Considering I have never written a book in my life, I suggest you never pick up a book for this class." Where most students would be thrilled to hear that they don't have to haul a nasty book to class and read, the girl closed her mouth as she looked rather taken back. Edward knew that he sounded narcissistic however it was nonetheless true. Not one wizard who thought himself an alchemist ever truly knew alchemy. Now that the class seemed half awake, Edward made his way to the front of the room and dropped the library book on the desk so carelessly that it made a loud noise effectively waking up a rather tired-looking Hufflepuff.

“Alright, attendance," he said as he picked up the list Professor Flitwick graciously gave him. He scanned down the list of names and looked at the crowd of students with random faces. There were a lot of them and a lot of names on the list. He growled to himself as he tossed his paper behind him not caring where it went.

"If you aren't here raise your hand," he said, noticing all of the students glancing around rather confused. Seeing that no one raised their hands he smirked and clapped his hands joyously. "Great you are all here. I guess you assumed that I am your alchemy professor. But to think that I am going to teach you anything would be a completely wrong assumption. Alchemy is complicated and not for anyone, especially not for the likes of you witches and wizards. The only reason why I am here is that your bastard Headmaster was very... persuasive,” he said hesitantly as a dive into his personal matters would have just been pointless let alone reckless. The students, especially the prophecy child and his friends, all looked offended by his comment on their headmaster.

“ Take it slow,” Hohenheim warned but Edward just rolled his eyes in disregardance to his father's advice.

“Alchemy was made a lost art because no one here could understand it and had great disregardance for its laws, so I have no intention of bringing a lost art back for a bunch of snot-brained twelve-year-olds-”

“You are barely older than us!” a Slytherin boy shouted out of turn. Where most Professors would scold them for not raising their hands, Edward didn't give a damn. He wasn't most Professors and it seemed the students were slowly coming to realize that.

“Appearances betray me,” Edward growled quickly back at him. The kid seemed upset with the bland answer but sat down just as another hand raised in the air. Edward pointed to it just to find that it was the young girl that he had stolen the book from not a few moments ago.

“Professor, what do you mean it was 'made a lost art'?” the young Gryffindor girl asked. Edward frowned.

“Name?”

“Hermione Granger,” she told him simply.

“Just to tell you a little fact I found out in my long time here, things don't become lost just randomly. People make them lost for the hope of keeping them that way.”

“Then if you aren’t going to teach us alchemy what are you going to teach us?!” Granger exclaimed, thoroughly upset that she wasn't going to be getting a lesson on a new skill. Edward was amazed at how enthused she was for the class even though it was to the point of slightly annoying.

“I am not going to teach you shit,” he stated flatly to the surprise of his class. “You are just going to have to learn yourselves. A lesson without pain is one not learned and if I just sit here and lecture to you what you should know how on earth is that helping any of you?”

“But how are we supposed to teach ourselves something we don't know?” the Harry kid asked simply. This was a very good question because Edward knew that they didn't know anything about real alchemy in the least bit. No one in that world did.

“You are going to teach yourselves to understand the three laws of alchemy, which I will give you in a little bit. It's the key to everything in life not just this science. If you show me you understand them then maybe I might consider teaching this stupid class,” Edward mumbled the last part. The students glanced at each other curiously as though considering his barter. It probably wasn't like any of their other classes and they didn't seem to know how to take it. He was kind of pulling a page from his own teacher’s book. It was really the only way he knew how to teach. He didn’t want to waste his time on a class that couldn’t get past the basics. Alchemy was dangerous as it was let alone to some kids who couldn’t understand it. However, it seemed that the students were lost in his methods and were looking at each other not knowing what to do. Edward sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation.

“Any questions,” he growled and immediately all hands in the room shot up. Reluctantly Edward pointed to the redhead next to Potter.

“What is alchemy? We know it is a lost magic but what does it do?” he asked dumbly.

“When did I ever say it was magic?” Edward asked rhetorically. “Alchemy isn't magic. It doesn't require bloodline or wands-”

“Wandless magic?’ a blond Slytherin kid exclaimed excitedly but Edward glared at him for interrupting and he seemed to immediately shut up.

“It isn't magic. A squib, a muggle, or anyone else can perform alchemy. This is a science. It is the art of transmuting one thing into another-”

“But we can already do that with transfigurations-” the Slytherin boy argued again. "Why do we need to learn some muggle ' science' for something we can already do?"

“Name,” Edward snapped quickly before he actually got a good look at him. The kid was slender with bright blond hair, something all too familiar about him from the previous evening in Hogsmeade.

“Draco Malfoy,” the kid stated as if anyone should know it. He held an arrogance that anyone could see through. It was almost like the homunculus Pride, a hopeful false identity. Obviously, he couldn’t take a bit of humility. “I’ll have you know that my father expects us to be learning magic, not some muggle rubbish-”

“You’re father made his position quite clear last night as did I to him,” Edward stated coldly. “I hope his wand arm is feeling much better just in case I have to state my position again.” The Slytherin kid paled immensely which was a hard feat since he was already so white to begin with. The other students around the room were thoroughly confused but it seemed that Draco knew what had happened to his father, or at least knew that he had broken his arm if not the context of its occurrence.

“And to everyone,” Edward said turning to the whole class, “if you are going to keep stating things while I am trying to explain them you are going to be in for a very long and very bad year. So shut up and listen or else you will find yourself failing the semester before it begins,” Edward scolded.

“As I was stating, it isn’t magic but you would be incorrect to state that it is a muggle science,” Edward lectured giving the Slytherin boy another glare while he was at it. “Muggles didn’t invent alchemy, wizards didn’t create alchemy. Is that clear?”

“But what about Nicolas Flamel? Wasn't he an alchemist?" Harry Potter asked curiously.

"No," Edward steamed as he hated his students even bringing up that name.

"But Paracelsus himself taught him. The founder of alchemy-" Granger added.

" No ."

"But he created the philosopher’s st-” the redhead next to them started.

“NO!” Edward growled slamming his metal fist down on the desk next to him. The wood broke under the force of his automail and his desk collapsed sending a few papers on top of it scattering to the floor. It effectively struck fear into the entire class by pure accident. Edward closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt his left fist clench up in frustration. He knew that Hohenheim and Mustang were both trying to tell him to keep calm but he couldn’t hear them at that moment. He released his breath and pried his fist from the desk where it was stuck. The wood made a cracking noise as it chipped and left the desk in an even worse state than when it began. He dusted off the splinters carelessly and strode slowly across the room to where the redhead was sitting. The poor child seemed to be scared out of his wits as Edward leaned over the desk and glared at him.

“Name,” he ordered barely above a whisper. He could feel the anger radiating from himself and the kid seemed to know it. The redhead managed to become paler than he was before and struggled to state his own name.

“R-ron… Weasley,” the kid stuttered seeming to realize he had made a mistake with his big mouth. Edward narrowed his eyes at the kid.

“Mr. Weasley, you have been talking a bit too much and I hate to be interrupted. Would you stay after class?” He asked him. The wizard nodded and Edward glanced at the other Gryffindors sitting next to him. They looked rather scared as well, not from his glare but probably from the fact that they were just as curious as Weasley. After all, you can’t come across the all-powerful stone and not have questions on what it can do. “You and your two friends here,” he added. The kids gave exasperated growls at their red-headed friend as they were forced to stay after class. With a frown, Edward spun around and faced the class.

“If you think you are going to be creating a stone you are wrong. If you think you are going to hear of long alchemic legends you are wrong. If you even ask anything about the philosopher’s stone… you are wrong,” Edward hissed to the entire class. “If that is your intention leave this class right now because if I ever find out you are trying to make one, find one, or use one, expect me in your common room for a thorough beating. To gain great power comes even greater loss. This will be your first lesson on one of the laws of Alchemy. Equivalent Exchange.”

……….

“You sure know how to scare your students,” Roy huffed as Edward sat with his feet propped up on his broken desk, waiting for the class to finally be over. He had given the students the first three basic laws of alchemy, written down on the board and lightly briefed. That was more than he ever got from his teacher so it should have been over sufficient for a class of students living life in carefree luxury.

1. All is one, One is all.
2. The law of polarity
3. Equivalent Exchange

They had the entire class sit there and try to prove to him that they understood them. He was keeping a running tally on which students got which laws right. So far a few of them, Granger and surprisingly Longbottom in the bunch, got the last two correct. With their own separate explanations and short answers on why the laws were important in life, they achieved a mark by their names for the 2nd and 3rd laws however no one yet had gotten the first. It wasn’t like he expected the students to succeed in such a short time, but he thought that more would have understood the importance of the other laws. Some got the right concept but didn’t know why it applied to the universe let alone everyday living. Edward sighed as he started to count the ticks of the clock as the minutes chimed by.

“I know I got carried away,” Edward huffed under his breath, hoping not to disturb his class with his talking. “But it seemed to work most of them got at least one of them-”

“Just not the first,” Alphonse chimed in sadly. Edward nodded his head with a light hum.

“And that’s the one I am counting on to get me out of this class,” Edward said.

“ You are a horrible teacher,” Winry stated flatly.

“I know,” Edward replied with a light smirk that didn’t feel all too confident in. Though he took pride in being a horrible teacher because Alchemy wasn’t something to mess with, he knew that it really was true. He was a horrible teacher. If he was a fairly good one, maybe Flamel wouldn’t have stolen the stone from him in the first place. If he was a good teacher Flamel would have learned his lesson.

“ Brother, you know it wasn’t your fault-”

“I know but… if I just taught him better then maybe-”

“Mrs. Curtis beat it into us that Human Transmutation was impossible remember? And we still did it. She wasn’t a bad teacher was she?” Alphonse asked rhetorically. Edward looked down at the floor as he remembered the mistake that started it all. Their teacher had told them over and over in her own way that it was impossible. She even knew it firsthand, yet they still went against her teachings. Was that just what Flamel did? “Brother, at least be a little gentler to the students. They are kids after all.”

"Kids that can make mistakes and they don't have a few hundred years to go around fixing them. They only have one," Edward replied softly. Suddenly the bells rang in the clock tower signaling the end of class. The students could seem to get up fast enough. Over half of them sprinted out of the classroom while others tripped over each other just to get their bags. Yes, maybe Edward could have lightened up on them if they were that desperate to escape his clutches. He groaned to himself as he massaged his face tiredly. He couldn’t do this.

“Professor?” he heard a light voice ask him.

“Whaaat?” he groaned in exhaustion and frustration.

“You wanted us to stay after?” the student asked and Edward looked up curiously to see the three gryffindors before him; Granger, Weasley, and Potter, all in a row. He had nearly forgotten.

“Gentle,” Alphonse ordered him.

“I know what you did last year,” Edward started slowly. “Albus told me everything about it, how you found the stone, even held it-”

“You aren’t going to show up in our common rooms are you?” Weasley asked nervously, so scared Edward wouldn’t have questioned if he would have shitted himself right there.

“What? No. That was a stupid threat, far from the truth,” Edward told them. The three students seemed to lighten up a bit. “If I hear anything about the philosopher’s stone again I will personally see to it that you are humiliated, expelled, beaten to a pulp by the whomping willow, and then fed to the dementors to get your souls sucked out before noon. That is what I would really do but that is beside the point,” Edward finished effectively squashing their hopes. He felt his little brother’s sardonic disbelief in him however he chose to ignore it for the time being.

“What I asked you to stay after class for was to tell you that the philosopher’s stone doesn’t exist-”

“But we saw it last year. Nicolas Flamel-” Harry Potter started but Edward shook his head.

“In this class, the stone does not exist. I don’t care what you did, what you saw last year, or its relation to what you wizards presume alchemy is. In this class, the stone does not exist. I don’t want you encouraging the other students to do something as reckless as try to find it or worse, make it.”

“But Flamel was a great alchemist. Everyone knows he made one-” Hermione interrupted but Edward gave a short snort as he heard her.

“Didn't you ever think history books got it wrong?" he asked her. "Let me tell you a secret. Nicolas Flamel never made a philosopher’s stone. And for the safety of this class, I hope you graciously pretend that the stone doesn't exist. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” she mumbled weakly and the other two followed suit. Edward studied them as if testing their honesty but found nothing faulty in them. Silence hung in their conversation as Edward had not yet dismissed the three Gryffindors and didn’t know quite what to do. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he stood up and grabbed his cloak off of the back of his chair.

“Well,” Edward sighed as he wrapped his cloak around his shoulders seeing that the conversation seemed to have halted. “You best be on your way and I best be on mine. I have a library book to return,” he smirked as he picked up the tomb he had stolen from Granger and waved it lightly in his hand as if reminding her. He walked towards the door without any regard for his students and opened the door to leave.

“Well, at least it was some improvement,” he heard Roy mumble.

“Shut up you bastard,” Edward huffed at him.

…………

“Why would he say the stone doesn’t exist? It doesn’t make sense,” Harry asked innocently as they scrambled down the stairs for their Transfiguration lesson after Alchemy. The short talk they had with the professor about Ron’s big mouth left them with many questions and didn’t solve any of the ones they asked before. Hermione frowned, her face bright red and her book bag lighter as the Professor had confiscated the text she was reading. Harry didn’t think that he saw her more embarrassed in her life. The man announced she was wrong to the entire class, that was something she wasn’t used to. In fact, both Harry and Ron were surprised because Hermione was never wrong.

“He obviously knows it was real, that it was here. He was screaming for it at the opening feast. I don’t know what changed his mind-”

“Maybe he wants it all for himself. He wants to become immortal like You Know Who-”

“He isn’t evil, Ron-”

“You don’t know that-”

“Professor Dumbledore hired him-”

“He hired Quirrel-”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“But it’s a possibility,” Harry interrupted the argument that could have gone on for ages. Ron looked surprised for a second that Harry was siding with him but gave their other friend a victorious smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, upset for her loss. “I mean… it happened once… who says it couldn’t happen again? We don’t even know anything about him-”

“But he’s just a kid, barely older than us,” Hermione reasoned against them but Ron, for once, knew better.

“He’s the one that said he was older than he looked,” Ron suggested. “He probably isn’t who he says he is either. He’s probably just trying to get to the stone. Why else would he know so much about it?”

“Because he’s an alchemist?” Hermione said sarcastically. “Look, we don’t have enough information to go off of even if we want to dig deeper. All we know is that he’s an alchemist and our new professor. That’s it. We don’t even know what this art can do.”

“We are going to learn it aren’t we?” Ron retorted.

“Only if we ‘understand’ the three laws,” Hermione muttered, her face growing a little redder at the thought of the class. She seemed furious that she couldn’t even get the first law right when she tried. Alchemy seemed to be the one class that she just hit the wall with. It challenged her.

“Then we are just going to have to figure them out,” Harry said flatly, not even sure where to begin. However, that seemed to be their best bet. The more they were able to understand alchemy, the more they might be able to understand the strange man who taught them.

The three of them scurried into the transfigurations classroom before the bell rang and took their seats. Most of the class was made up of their previous one. Harry saw that all of the students were whispering to each other about the new professor much like the three of them were doing in the hall. Some of the Ravenclaws were pointing to a notebook which he guessed had the three laws written on it. They were arguing about theories on what they were and reasons why the professor had them learn them. It confused Harry too. He didn’t know why the professor refused to teach any of them but instead gave them riddles they couldn’t understand.

“Alright students calm down,” McGonagall ordered as they were all chattering about their alchemy professor. However even though McGonagall was one of the most strict and intimidating professors in the school, it seemed to Harry that the questions just got louder.

“Why did they add a new alchemy class if we aren’t going to learn anything?”

“Professor Elric is crazy-”

“Professor, can you please help us with this?” the Ravenclaws asked desperately pointing to the notebook lying on their desk. McGonagall seemed overwhelmed but by the sudden roar of questions, she waved her hands desperately trying to calm her class down.

“Quiet. Quiet! What has gotten into you all? I wouldn’t expect you to be this rowdy on the first day!” she scolded effectively silencing everyone’s concerns.

“It’s our alchemy class!” a Hufflepuff complained.

“The Professor -”

“Master Elric is your teacher,” McGonagall cut them all off, her voice stiff. “His methods are unorthodox, his attitude is temperamental, but he is your teacher nonetheless and… as much as I hate to say this, he is really the only person capable of teaching alchemy correctly-”

“But he doesn’t teach us at all!” another student cried. “We have to teach the laws to ourselves and we don’t know anything about it.”

“There has to be someone else! He can’t be the only person in the world to know it,” Ron argued flatly but the pointed glare of their transfigurations professor caught him and Harry could have sworn that underneath her stiff composure he saw a look of sympathy. Even the Professor didn’t seem to like the newest member of the faculty.

“Unfortunately,” she sighed adjusting her slim spectacles on her nose, “As informed to me by the Headmaster, Mr. Elric really is the only person in the world to know true alchemy. Many wizards tried and failed to learn it and so the history books are very inaccurate. So it looks like you are stuck with him.”

“How old is he, Professor?” Harry asked in amazement as McGonagall told them little information about their unknown professor. She shook her head, her face as curious as his.

“I don’t know Potter. I just know he is older than me, older than even Dumbledore-”

“ Older than Dumbledore?” Malfoy exclaimed in disbelief. “How is that possible? He doesn’t look any older than the sixth years!”

“A lot of facial creme I guess,” McGonagall muttered not too convincingly. The class looked at each other and whispers started up as they argued about their findings. However, the Professor didn’t seem to like it and she puffed up a bit in anger. “I bet it is about time we stop talking about another class and start talking about this one. Take your books out and…”

………

Edward let out a deep breath as he walked towards his classroom, keys jingling in his hand. He had gone for a walk after returning the library book in an attempt to explore his new prison. Unfortunately, he already knew the castle and knew that there was nowhere he could go. To make it worse the students seemed to flood every corner of the place and he couldn’t even get some peace and quiet in his sulkings.

“It’s only a year. It’s only a year,” he whispered to himself as he tried to calm his enraged nerves. He felt utterly trapped and quite frankly alone. He didn’t have anything that was remotely homely here as he traveled light and didn’t have anything on him when Albus played that cruel trick on him. He figured he could go beg either the headmaster or the potion’s master to get him some simple things just so his room wouldn’t look so bare and he wouldn’t be so bored. However with his pride already severed and near destroyed from his entrapment, he would have to save any more embarrassment for another day.

Edward placed the key into the door and opened up his classroom for some rest before his next class. Any moron could have opened the door with magic or blasted their own somehow but Edward just locked his door for normality. He would like to pretend at some points that magic didn’t exist. Though he spent a decent amount of time learning it in his years, he still couldn’t forget the horrors that came over him the first few years in this world. Seeing witches and wizards around again was like a slap in the face, bringing back old nightmares that he spent years trying to suppress.

“ Calm down Edward. The Crusades are over,” he heard Hohenheim tell him as Edward realized his hand started to shake uncontrollably. He held onto his wrist with his stiff automail hand and forced himself to calm down. He quickly reminded himself that it was the 20th century.

“Damn it all,” he hissed as he stormed into the room and slammed the door behind him. The frame shook and the loud shotgun noise rang around the room. Edward tensed at it but after a second all was silent again. He let out a strained sigh as he ran his fingers through his bangs and heavily staggered over to his desk. It was still broken from that morning when he gave it a beating in his own frustration but Edward didn’t care at that point. He just shuffled over to the chair which rested behind it and collapsed down in exhaustion.

“It has been so long and yet I can imagine yesterday we were back home in Resembool, eh Al?” Edward mumbled as he slouched down in his chair and stared blankly at the ceiling. The windows were closed as Edward didn’t care to open them, knowing it wouldn’t have made a difference to his interment. He was still trapped there and an open window would have just driven him crazy knowing that he was stuck within the walls of the castle, with only a small dark, and dreary courtyard as his only form of outside limits. It acted like a dog pen if Edward ever wanted to get some fresh air, surrounded by four large stone walls that never let in a cool breeze and blocked sunlight from the best part of the morning till mid-afternoon. The courtyard was always filled with students traveling from classes or just enjoying the day studying outside so Edward never went there.

“ Hmm, ” Alphonse hummed silently as they both started to reminisce about their home. Edward found himself missing the rolling hills of Resembool and their long flowing grasses. He used to hate how open the land was as there wasn’t anything to do in the countryside as far away as they were but now he would give up anything to be there again.

“ Edward, ” Alphonse said quietly, sounding as if there was something on his mind. It snapped Edward from his imaginings and he answered quickly.

“What’s up little brother?” Edward asked a bit of concern flying through him.

“What was it that you wanted to tell me earlier? In the headmaster’s office, I mean? What happened when I was gone?” Edward frowned, his body frozen stiff from the grief that was filled inside of him. He could feel Mustang’s rage, his sadness, all of it. The torment that ran through his commanding officer flowed through all of them and to bring it up was over-stimulating. Forcing himself to move through all of the emotional ache, Edward felt his body whine and creak at him as he placed his feet on the floor to stabilize himself. Seeming to sense Edward’s struggle Alphonse quickly apologised for bringing it up so casually. He didn’t seem to know it was such a sensitive topic, especially to the Colonel.

“ Edward,” the stiff yet trembling voice of Mustang sounded out. Edward could hear the pain in it. The man didn’t want to remember the night Nicolas betrayed them. Everyone had their own reasons to hate that night, Edward had multiple, but it struck the Colonel hardest of all and Edward knew he would never be able to come back from it. “ Let me step out for a minute,” he asked so casually if Edward couldn’t hear the anger in his voice he would have thought Mustang just wanted to go for a stroll.

“Colonel,” Edward said, having not called him that in ages it seemed stiff, too formal, “I don’t have enough energy in me to bond you… I can’t-”

“ Edward, what happened?” Alphonse asked weakly, not knowing the cause of Mustang’s despair. Edward closed his mouth as he thought about how to tell Alphonse what happened when Flamel took him. How do you say something like that?

“A-alphonse… um… when you… when Flamel,” Edward stuttered unable to bring about a good sentence with Mustang’s grief looming over him. It really almost destroyed him. Edward sucked in a huge breath and released it, building up his nerve to tear open old wounds. “When Flamel took you, he ran me through remember?”

“ How could I forget, brother?” Alphonse stuttered the visible memories of Nicolas’ betrayal. “ He then locked you behind the-”

“Don’t bring that part up, Al,” Edward hissed quickly, shutting his little brother up before he began. It came out harsh, but Edward didn’t think he could handle telling Alphonse this story and bringing up his own nightmares as well. He apologized lightly for his swiftness but took another breath as he tried to stabilize himself.

“As you know… in order to repair the… damage the stone that was still inside of me was used. And in that process, the consumed soul is chosen at random-”

“ Oh, no!” Alphonse gasped as he realized what Edward was getting at. The stone was used to heal him which meant another soul was lost. Whenever Edward failed to die, another person would. In the event that they would return to Amestris and send everyone back home to their bodies, a few of them would not make it. There was already an obituary running on the stone and now there was even more with Nicolas’ interference. Some of the people Edward was never able to meet in person, others unfortunately he knew quite well. “Brother, who was it?” Alphonse asked weakly, fearing the news of death.

“It was Winry,” Edward muttered but that struck Alphonse to the core.

“ But Winry is still here! She’s still alive! Brother, you can’t joke about this-”

“I AM NOT JOKING!” Edward scolded his little sibling. The hysterical Alphonse quieted down and Edward felt a pain in his chest as he felt some tears start to threaten his composure. He pinched his nose and took a few moments to himself, Alphonse waiting patiently. “Winry was going to be used she… she was fading away but… Hawkeye stopped her,” Edward muttered quietly. His little brother gasped and Edward covered his face in his hands as he slid down in his chair, the weight of the conversation bearing down on him. “Hawkeye took her place and.... She was used to repair the wound-”

“ Oh my god, Brother…. Mustang,” Alphonse started, worried about their old friend. Edward opened his mouth to try and ease Alphonse’s grief but suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. He cursed and seeming to ignore the fact that there wasn’t an invitation, the door opened up.

“Mr. Elric-”

“Damn it, can’t you see that we are having a conversation here?!” Edward raged at the newcomer. He recognized the woman as the old transfiguration teacher. She looked absolutely startled by his explosion but didn’t seem to take his heed. She just stood halfway through the room, not moving to leave. “Get out for fuck’s sake!”

“Mr. Elric! I will not! I know you are ancient but I will not accept this rude behavior in this school! Your students are very upset with-,” the woman started to scold him when she suddenly caught a closer look at him. Edward wiped his face trying to get some of the straying tears off of it. Not wanting the professor to see the great Eastern Sage all emotional, he quickly turned his back and pretended that something was in his eye or that something else caught his attention. However, it was a simple facade that the professor had no trouble seeing through.

“Mr. Elric are you alright?” McGonagall asked gently, her swift sharp voice taking on the quite opposite tone. He nodded his head silently.

“I guess you could say that, just… informing my brother on the latest tragedies our lives have to suffer through,” Edward mumbled mocking fate’s cruelty with a light wave of his hand. McGonagall looked around the classroom as if trying to find who he was talking to but of course, came up empty.

“Mr. Elric-”

“Edward.”

“Um.. Edward,” the professor said awkwardly after a moment’s hesitation. “No one is here-”

“To most it would seem that way, but …,” Edward stumbled, taking in a shaky breath, “to some we are having a very important and personal conversation. Can you leave?...... please,” he added stiffly on the end as if that would make up for his rude outburst earlier. The transfigurations professor seemed taken back by his sudden change of demeanor and she closed her mouth.

“Well, I.. will just bring this up with the headmaster then…,” she said slowly as she turned her back and made towards the door. Just as she was about to leave she paused for a moment in the doorway and looked back at him. “I am … sorry for interrupting. I hope your brother will forgive me,” she stated flatly and then with only a slight pause, left and closed the door behind her.

Edward collapsed down to the floor, leaning his back on his broken desk as he just sat in his empty classroom in silence. He could still feel Roy’s rage and Alphonse’s shock from their interrupted conversation. It swirled around him almost suffocatingly. He could hear Alphonse try to talk to Mustang to calm his nerves, he was always better at sympathy than Edward was. So he just let the two of them talk, listening to their quiet words in hopes of calming himself down too.

It was just too fast, all of it. None of them knew what Nicolas was up to until Edward had a short sword straight through his gut, pinning him to the wall like a tack. Without the sword removed and then with Flamels own ‘extra measures’ to make sure Edward couldn’t follow him afterward, the use of the stone was slow and unbearable as he couldn’t heal properly. For two whole years they watched Hawkeye just fade away unable to do anything about it. It was traumatizing for all of them.

“Edward,” Winry muttered, the sadness in her voice prominent, “ Do you think you will ever catch up with Flamel?” Edward glanced down at his hands which rested limply in his lap. They had been chasing him for over 600 years. They knew him too well to lose his trace yet he knew them too well to be caught. It has been a struggle just to get this far with him. Edward wanted to find him for his brother and the stone, Mustang wanted to find him for the sake of Hawkeye and to make him realize what he did. Yet in all reality, though their hopes were high, Edward just couldn’t answer that question, or at least he didn’t want to.

“I don’t know,” he muttered simply and left it at that.

………

“Albus, I don’t like having him amongst the students,” Minerva said stiffly as she stood in front of the Headmaster’s desk during one of her free periods after seeing Edward. “They complain that he isn’t teaching them and I heard from many of the students that he outright insulted them! Why did you ever have him become a professor?”

“Is that all you are worried about?” Dumbledore asked distractedly as he brushed the feathers of his Phoenix.

“No! He is rude, disrespectful, and a horrible role model for the students! I don’t think everything is right with him-”

“What do you mean right, Minerva?” Dumbledore inquired, cutting her off from her angered rant. “Do you mean how he talks to himself?”

“Yes! I don’t think it is good for him,” she said, the worry in her voice overcoming her anger at that moment. It was a little disturbing to see such a powerful person so distraught. It made him almost look just like the child he appeared to be. She knew he was the Eastern Sage, she knew that he was near immortal with how old he was but she just couldn’t picture him being so… normal. “He was quite upset and... He said he was talking to his brother but there was no one there! I think he needs to see someone-”

“And yet, no one would be able to help him because Master Elric’s case is one in a kind,” the headmaster answered sadly. “Minerva, one thing you should know about a long life is that you see a great many things, but upon seeing them you change. Master Elric’s life wasn’t an easy one as I gather and even more recently it hasn’t been good for him. He isn’t used to normal life as we live it and now… I fear he is just having trouble fitting in-”

“That doesn’t mean he can just neglect his students and-”

“You are right about that which is why I put him as Lockhart assistant. Maybe watching his peers at work might set him in the right direction,” Albus smiled.

“But-”

“Minerva, I know it is a bit intimidating for you that we have the Eastern Sage in the castle, but the best we can do is give him our best hospitality. Which, as it just so happens, I would like you to go to Paracelsus’ house and pick up some of his homely things. He doesn't have anything here except what he has on his back. It would be appreciated if we bring him some things to make him feel more at home-”

“His house?!” Minerva exclaimed. “No one knows where he lives! He's a legend! He appears every few fifty years and disappears again! How-”

“Severus knows where it is. He will go with you-”

“I really don't think he would be happy with the intrusion-”

“Don't worry Minerva,” Dumbledore winked. “I think he would be very grateful.” McGonagall frowned as the Headmaster played their trespassing off like it wasn’t anything of consequence. Though Albus seemed fine with it, she highly doubted that the Eastern Sage would be too. She had seen him angry the previous evening and she really didn’t want to be on the other end of that rage.

……..

Edward groaned as he walked down the corridor of the Dark Arts Tower. He had just finished with his other class and now Gilderoy Lockhart was beckoning him to his classroom to start his first lesson as his assistant. He had attempted ditching but Flitwick caught him and gave him a rather friendly reminder about his class. Flitwick was too nice of a man that Edward found himself unable to disappoint him. He still couldn’t believe that he was put under such an idiot like Gilderoy. It was probably Dumbledore’s idea to try and keep track of him. Who knew what would happen if a thousand-year-old being ran about a castle carefree? Edward snorted sarcastically at the thought. Who knew what would happen if they let the famous Gilderoy Lockhart run loose around the castle? It was a double babysitting job. He would have to get Dumbledore back for this.

The students were already inside the classroom when he entered and Gilderoy was already talking about his many, many awards which he repeated a million times as he rehearsed it all the night before. In this case, he actually did because it was the exact spiel that he gave Edward the other evening when he lectured him on his elders.

“Ah, Mr. Elric! So kind of you to join us!” the man announced with a dashing smile. Edward really wondered if he would still win the best smile award if his teeth were knocked out. With as much luck as he was having that week, he guessed so.

“Class, this is Mr. Elric, as you all should know he is the new alchemy professor and my right-hand man.” Edward took a short moment to glance at the students, all of whom seemed to have paled slightly in his presence. This was the second-year class and they seemed to have remembered his lesson from earlier that day. Maybe he really did need to work on his teaching methods. Gilderoy however didn’t seem to notice the tensity of the room or at least didn’t care. He continued on.

“As we start off class today I would like to see who did their summer reading. Now a pop quiz!” the man said happily earning several groans from the students. Gilderoy picked up a large stack of papers and held them out to Edward as if he expected him to take them.

“What am I supposed to do with those?” Edward asked dumbly even though he knew exactly what the man wanted from him. Edward kept his arms crossed, giving him no sign that he was going to take the pile to start handing them out to the class.

“Well you are my assistant, you are supposed to help me-”

“Help you teach a class and by no means does a stupid quiz where one of the questions is about your favorite color teach a class on defense against the dark arts,” Edward scolded him. Gilderoy frowned, obviously displeased by his challenging attitude. However, like everything, he played it off.

“Edward, Edward, Edward,” he chuckled lightly as he flicked his wand and all of the papers magically began to pass themselves out to the little enthused students. “I know you are young and just starting to get a grasp on the world but you must understand teaching methods. This isn't to test the knowledge of the students, but to see if they did the reading and know the basis of what we are learning. It is a tool many professors use to get a benchmark for their class-”

“And that benchmark is based off of your favorite color and ideal birthday present?” Edward stated flatly as he snatched one of the quizzes off of the pile as it flew by him. The entire thing was rubbish and had nothing to do with magic at all. In fact, if there was a single question on the quiz that wasn't about Gilderoy, Edward would shoot himself… not that he didn't want to already. However, Gilderoy seemed to have ignored him and set the class to their work. Quills were scribbling and Edward groaned to himself as he watched the students fill out the test, obviously in pain of how ridiculous the questions were. Suddenly he heard a light whistle and looked up to see Gilderoy motioning towards him. He sighed as he let Lockhart drag him over to the corner of the room out of the way of the students' rigorous exam.

“Edward,” the man said seriously as he slung an arm around his shoulders. Edward fought the urge to punch him in the face. “I didn't want to bring this up in front of the class because I thought it might be embarrassing and I didn't want the students to disrespect you for it. They are a tough and rowdy bunch you know and I don't want them to think unkindly of you since you're just stepping off. But….”

“But what?” Edward asked only slightly amused as to what the man had to say. Gilderoy sighed as if he was preparing to tell him that his puppy died.

“I do fear that you have a hard time respecting your elders,” the man admitted. “I brought this up in the Great Hall the other day but I don't think that I have gotten through to you. Usually when correcting students' behavior a simple advisement is good but…. I am afraid that I am going to have to work with you on your attitude.” Edward heard a roar of laughter in his ears as Alphonse and Roy laughed their asses off at the idiot. It pounded through his ears and Edward felt his face flush with embarrassment as everyone in the stone started to laugh at him. Gilderoy was worried about the students hearing but his friends in the stone were much worse.

“ Shut up,” Edward hissed at them but it only made matters worse. “ At least Winry is trying to hold it in,” he scolded when he heard Winry’s snickering however after the comment she gave in and was howling with the rest of them.

“ You do kind of act immature-”

“Al, you can’t say that to your older brother!”

“ ha! I have been telling you that you have had attitude problems for years! For a complete idiot he hit the nail!” Roy roared.

“Shut up!” Edward scolded them a little louder.

“ Edward. You need to act your age or else no one will take you seriously-” Hohenheim started his usual serious lecture, seeming to have taken the buffoon to heart on the matter.

“That's it! I would like you try and-” Edward started but halfway through his argument stopped as he saw the professor just staring at him like he was crazy. Edward glanced behind him to the rest of the class and they seemed to have given up on their quizzes, taking more interest in watching their professor mutter angrily to himself. They probably thought he was going insane.

“What did you say?” Gilderoy asked impatiently. Edward felt his face blush even harder in embarrassment and he quickly dropped his head into his hands wishing he could just disappear. Having been caught in conversation, the people in the stone worked to quiet themselves with little success which made it a lot easier for Edward to deal with the now new sets of eyes staring at him.

“I… I wasn't talking to you,” he muttered at the man all the while silently ordering his friends to shut up. Gilderoy sighed as he tsked.

“This is a good example, Edward, about what I mean. Muttering while an adult is trying to talk to you… it's improper. I have some students who are holding detention with me in the evenings. I think it might be best if you came along.”

“Wait wait wait,” Edward said waving his hands as if to press pause on the conversation. “You… You are giving me detention? ” he asked in disbelief.

“No. not detention… rather a learning opportunity,” the man smiled. “I will be able to give you some teaching tips as well. Get you on point with the other professors because, let’s just say, they don’t seem to have taken kindly to you.”

“I-”

“So it’s settled. Extra tutoring for you starting Saturday evening! Don’t worry, son, we will have you shaped up in no time!” Gilderoy cheered as he whipped his wand and all of the students' tests flew out of their hands and back onto his desk in a neat pile. It seemed like over half of them weren’t finished and some even had a line of ink where the student was writing as it flew out of their hands. Edward stared dumbfounded as the man started going about like their conversation didn’t happen. The man really did give him detention. He wasn’t even a student.

“Ah, I could see some of you had trouble with the reading. You need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more closely in order to remember that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples- though a bottle of Ogden’s Firewhiskey would definitely be appreciated,” the man said with a sly wink. Edward massaged his face with his hands in complete disbelief.

“Are you seriously still surprised about this man?” Roy asked as they watched the professor go on and talk about himself all the while completely ignorant of how some of his students were laughing their asses off at him. Even the students didn’t respect him.

“He just seems to be finding new definitions for being a half-witt,” Edward muttered under his breath. He watched through his fingers as Gilderoy announced, dramatically, the actual start of his class and pulled out a shrouded cage from behind his desk. Edward’s nerves went on high alert as he saw it. The cage rattled and high-pitched squeals rang out of it violently. Cornish Pixies. Now Edward knew that on the Danger index, the cornish pixie was only X however they were notorious for being violent troublemakers. He didn’t know if the class, let alone Gilderoy, was ready for them. Hell, Edward could barely manage himself when he stumbled on a nest of them on one of his walks through the woods. He actually needed Roy to take out the mass of them by fire. Of course, he had already given up his wand at this point but pixies still weren’t an easy thing to deal with.

“You aren’t really doing this,” Edward said to Gilderoy as he removed the cover dramatically. One of the third years burst out laughing as the man had built up the idea that their worst fears hid in the cage when it was just a bunch of nasty blue pixies.

“Why yes… I like to have a bit of… hands-on experience-” the man smiled reaching for the door of the cage but Edward snatched him by the wrist and stopped him in his tracks. Gilderoy winced as Edward grabbed him by his automail arm just a little too tightly. “Ooh, strong grip you got there,” the man chuckled weakly under his glare.

“Perhaps we should teach the students how to handle them first before we open the cage?” Edward suggested coldly but Gilderoy just gave him his knowing smile as he, not too smoothly, ripped his arm from Edward’s steel grasp.

“I believe in learning on the job,” the man winked as he slipped past Edward and flew the cage door open.

It was chaos in seconds. The pixies shot out of the cage like a berray of bullets. Books, papers, anything you could imagine, found its way on the floor or even out of the windows. Broken glass sprinkled the floors as every single window was trashed. Ink bottles were sprayed and Edward found himself being coated in the black substance as a pixie dumped a whole bottle on his head. All of the students were running or ducking under the desks to evade the pixies except for one who unfortunately had the joy of falling victim to the pixies most nasty habit of lifting people by their ears and hanging from random high places.

“Longbottom, what are you doing up there?” Gilderoy said as he looked up at the student hanging from the chandelier. “Come on now everyone, put them back in their cages they’re only pixies.” Seeing that the students had no clue what they were doing, Lockhart took out his wand and jabbered an absolute faux spell just to have a pixie toss his wand out of the window too. The man, now having nothing to defend himself with and having lost all of his courage, dove under a nearby desk just like the class.

“What are you doing?” Edward scolded the man when suddenly the high chandelier broke and the poor student that was hung by the back of his robes on it was sent falling with about a hundred pounds of brass and glass. Edward sprinted over and with a clap of his hands made a stone hand protrude from the ground to break the boy’s fall. Neville was caught safely in its grasp however the chandelier crashed to the ground nearly on top of Lockhart. Edward however wasn’t too worried about that. Suddenly the bell rang and the entire class made a mad dash to the door, Gilderoy included. Just as the last couple of students were near the exit, the man slipped past them like a snake and smiled weakly.

“If you could just nip them back into their cage that would be great,” the man squeaked before he closed the door on them, leaving Edward and the last few students trapped in the pandemonium.

“What do we do?” Ron Weasley yelped as a pixie bit him on the ear.

“I-I don’t know,” Hermione called as she immobilized one with a freezing charm, but like Lockhart her wand was taken and the pixies lodged it on a high ledge of the room. Harry tried batting the pixies with a book in an attempt to keep them away however the blue beasts took that too and shredded it to confetti.

"You don't know? You always know!" Ron exclaimed in shock as the person who surely had the answer was coming up blank.

“Professor, what do we do?” Harry asked as the three tried to keep the pixies at bay with whatever they could find. Edward was having his own trouble as a few of the pixies thought it would be neat to toy with his automail arm. They managed to make a few grabs at it but Edward grabbed them by their legs and hurled them across the room. A couple of them hit the wall and were knocked out but the majority of them were just squealing like it was a joy ride.

“I don’t do magic. I don't have a wand,” Edward called out as a pixie grabbed his cape and flipped it over his head. He brushed the long fabric out of his face just to catch the students with dumbfounded looks. Here they were trapped in a room with the absolute chaos of cornish pixies, none of them knowing what to do and the professor not having a wand. Edward cursed Lockhart for his stupidity. He swatted a pixie out of the way and looked quickly around the room as he tried to assess their situation. Pixies were flying everywhere, at least fifty of them in the whole bunch. There was no way that he could capture all of them with stone alchemy. They were too fast. He knew what he needed to do.

“Get under the desk,” Edward ordered them as he clapped his hands.

“We are just going to hide?” Weasley asked.

“No! Just get under the bloody desk!” Edward scolded the annoying kid as he touched the ground. A large black suit of armor rose up from the stone in the floor. It was Mustang’s.

“No. Edward, you are not bringing me out for a bunch of pixies. You can do flame alchemy yourself,” Roy yelled at him.

“ Brother you don’t have enough energy. You haven’t rested enough. You are going to hurt yourself,” Alphonse said worriedly.

“I am not precise enough in my flame alchemy. I will more likely set this whole place up in flames than actually hit a pixie and you can’t catch flying pixies in stone,” Edward told him as the glowing red array etched its way through the air around the armor. He touched his hand to his chest and in summoning the reluctant soul from the stone he felt himself become immensely tired even from the act of it. It took a lot of energy to bind souls to armor temporarily. Alphonse and Mustang both being out the previous evening for such a long time exhausted him. He still felt sluggish from it. But here he was again trying to bind another soul. It was only for a short amount of time though, he could do it. Right?

The red soul fire came out on his fingertips and he cast it into the armor, sealing Mustang to the large suit. In an instant, he felt nearly all of his energy seep out of him and he was sent to his knees as he felt he could barely stand up. His head swirled as he became instantly dizzy. The voices inside of him scolded him for being so careless but he heard a snap and flames filled the room as the cornish pixies were caught in their burning embrace and ignited. The high shrill voices of the beasts hurt his ears as they were all scortched with one sweep of the flames. Edward blurrily looked over as he caught sight of the three Gryffindors under the desk. Their eyes were wide in frightful awe as they watched the now-conscious armor battle the damned pixies with one snap of its fingers.

When the flames cooled off the tall black armor turned around and the burning red eyes in the helmet glared at Edward. “You idiot,” the man said. “I told you not to bring me out but you never listen. Now look at you. You can barely stand.” Edward chuckled as he defiantly tried to stand up. It took most of his effort and probably looked pitiful but he pulled himself up to lean against a desk.

“You aren’t my… commanding officer anymore… I don’t need to listen to you,” he breathed heavily as he blinked a few times, his head still swimming. Clouds started to fog his vision and he couldn’t bat them away. “Besides, we got those damn pixies under control. Now if only Lockhart was here… you could burn him too.”

“Put me back in before you pass out,” Roy ordered coldly, ignoring his light-hearted joke. The armor gripped him by the shoulders to hold him up. Edward tried batting him away annoyingly.

“You’re good for a few more hours….. I am not gonna pass out and if I did … which I am not...you know what to do,” Edward huffed as he tried to take a step towards the door. The smell of burning flesh was getting to him. His legs shook and he nearly would have fallen over if it weren’t for his grip on the table.

“Professor, are you alright?” Granger choked as the three students crawled out from under the table. They coughed lightly with the smoke and looked rather ruffled from their first experience with flame alchemy. It really puts an impression on people.

“He’s going to pass out,” Roy stated flatly and Edward shot him a tired glare.

“I am not going to pass out,” he retorted dumbly.

“What in the world happened?” Weasley asked as he looked around the room. It was left in utter chaos by the pixies but from the flames, it was left untouched.

“Alchemy,” Roy stated flatly. “This idiot called me out to clean up this mess because he doesn't spend enough time practicing his flame alchemy-"

"So now it's my fault?!" Edward exclaimed.

"It's always your fault. Now you are going to pass out and I am going to have to haul your ass back to the medical ward."

“I am not gonna-,” Edward started to turn around to argue with him but suddenly he let go of the table and his knees collapsed under him. He fell flat to the ground, his face effectively smacking off of the stone. “Ow,” Edward muttered as he just lay there, the world spinning around him with much more pain in it than there was before. He heard worried whispers above him but their voices were all distorted and he couldn’t tell what they were saying. Suddenly stiff arms picked him up off of the ground and it almost felt like he was floating in the air.

“Told you,” was the last thing he heard before the spinning world stopped and everything just went black.

…….

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 3

Nightmares

Minerva shivered as she wrapped her cloak around herself. At the end of summer, the climate in Siberia was near freezing and neither of the wizards was at all prepared for it.

“Why couldn’t we apparate all the way to his house?” Minerva asked Severus as they trudged through the thick taiga forests of East Siberia. The trees hung over them, their huge canopies blocking the sky and much of the sunlight. It was difficult terrain climbing over the heavily forested mountains and Minerva was regretting ever seeing Dumbledore on the matter of the Eastern Sage. She could have been teaching her classes instead of this!

“The trees are so thick and the terrain is not navigated so apparating we might not land in too friendly of a spot,” Severus huffed as he helped the Gryffindor professor up a steep incline. “It also seems that though the Eastern Sage gave up his wand, he managed to put a few wards around his house.”

“What on earth would he need them for if he lives all the way out here? It isn’t like anyone’s going to come visiting-”

“I believe he feared that they might try,” the man sighed and Minerva closed her mouth. She didn’t know much about the Eastern Sage but it seemed that Albus and Severus did. She didn’t know how long they had been following Mr. Elric but she knew that it was no coincidence that Severus knew where the man lived. It seemed now that with her curiosity having gotten the better of her, the conspiring men had included her in their concern with the old Alchemist. She was just afraid of where this might take her. As it was commonly said, curiosity killed the cat.

They continued for a few good hours. For muggles traversing the countryside, it would have taken a few good days but the two of them apparated where they could which cut some time and they packed light. Minerva, having trouble on some of the rocky terrain, morphed into a feline partway through their trip as it was much easier to navigate on four legs than it was on two. Just as they managed to make it to the summit of one of the unmarked mountains Severus stopped as something on a nearby tree caught his attention.

“We are close,” he muttered as Minerva morphed back into her normal form. She walked over to where he was analyzing the bark of the tree, wondering what he was doing until she caught sight of a strange glyph carved in the wood.

“Runic magic?” she huffed as she looked at the symbol, putting her glasses higher on her nose so she could see it properly. “It’s the symbol of protection. Is this how he has hidden his home for so long?” she asked her colleague who just nodded his head.

“He has a wide area encircled with these so they conceal everything,” Severus muttered.

“How do you know all this Severus?” Minerva asked with concern as the two of them stepped past the tree to continue their journey to the ancient home. The instant they passed the trunk of the tree the cool brisk air of the taiga turned into a nice warm temperature, where summer should have been if they were anywhere else. Minerva took her heavy traveling cloak off and draped it over her arm for the rest of the journey. It seemed like even the Eastern Sage didn’t want to deal with the harsh environment for the entire year. “What have you and Dumbledore been planning with Mr. Elric?”

“Flamel was concerned about Elric and wanted a few things to help with his future,” Severus said flatly. “It isn’t a concern of many.”

“Well it should be of mine,” Minerva huffed to herself but it went unheard. They both wandered down off of the mountaintop and into the depths of the forest now trapped in a summer’s heat.

When they managed to get off of the mountain, there was a small clearing in the woods, not far ahead. No solid structures sat on the grass of the small meadow. Instead, it was as if the earth and the grass had risen to make a small hill for the house that they were trying to find. A couple of windows, a door, and a chimney, the basics for a house, were ingrained into the side of the hill as if to welcome anyone into the depths of the earth. Minerva, as they walked up to it, studied the strange subterranean house a bit disappointed. For finding the house of an ancient being that no one has ever been able to find, she would have thought the house to be a little more pronounced. However, the craftsmanship put into it was very sophisticated as simple designs seemed to have etched their way into the wood itself. It was looked to be a woodworker’s dream as all of them seemed to be hand carved and flourished.

“It’s sealed shut,” Severus muttered as he tried the door, noticing that the wooden plane was fused with the elegantly made frame. The man whipped out his wand and got ready to blow the door down but Minerva grabbed his wrist before he could do anything.

“Are you insane? I don’t think Mr. Elric would like us blowing apart his door. We aren’t guests but that doesn’t mean we can just destroy everything!” She huffed at him.

“There is no other way in-” Severus started but Minerva already was walking over the top of the green grass roof and pointed her wand to the ground.

“Cuniculsulum!” she said stiffly and a hole dug itself into the earth and created a tunnel right from the roof into the Alchemist’s underground home. The dirt was packed away making a clean and undisturbed entrance, ready to be put back upon their departure. Minerva sheathed her wand and with a huff descended into the small house with the Slytherin professor regretfully following.

It was dark in the house but the light that came through the large round windows illuminated it enough for the wizards to get a good look around. It didn’t seem too significant of a place. Like Minerva thought before, she expected something more flashy from a thousand-year-old man. The floor was made of nice thick and even larch. The interior walls were left bare for the most part, the thick clay soil being the finishing of the walls. Everything seemed to be made from the surrounding area, even then by hand. It was quaint and rather homey. It was no wonder Mr. Elric didn’t like the stone walls of the castle. It seemed that he was more accustomed to his small earthly bungalow.

Tables and chairs were neatly placed however their surfaces were covered with notebooks and materials. Most of the parchments were coated in ancient scripts and maps that Minerva had to guess were part of the Alchemist’s study. As Minerva looked around at the Alchemist’s home, she saw cold cups sitting on the tables as if someone had been sitting there to read their morning paper. The more she looked around the place, the more she realized that it appeared as if the people living there just disappeared. Traces of living were scattered around like dirty dishes and open books. Mr. Elric must have been in a rush when he left however Minerva could only wonder why. Seeing these little disturbances in the house made Minerva feel a bit off put by the Alchemist. However, she tried to force down her uncomfortableness and do the job Dumbledore sent her there to do, recover some of his homely things.

No pictures hung on the walls for her to take however Minerva saw a few photographs lying amongst the heaps of papers. She walked over and brushed some of the notebooks and papers away to see the picture more clearly. It appeared to be a muggle family portrait as it didn't seem to be moving at all. A tall golden-haired man and a shorter brown-haired woman held onto whom Minerva could only guess to be their sons. They were just infants at the time which put a small smile on Minerva's face. She wondered who the picture was of. The golden hair surely reminded the witch of the Eastern Sage but he was undoubtedly born before photographs were taken. She didn't think he had any descendants either. Determining it was a mystery for another day, Minerva tucked the photograph away in her pocket to take with her. She was sure that even the Eastern Sage would love a nice photograph in his room to make it homier.

“I believe we should get him some clothes and… possibly some books-” Minerva started as she made a list of things the alchemist might need. As she opened up a wardrobe at the end of the house near a rather old yet neat bed, she noticed that most of Elric’s clothes were simple muggle casuals. A few button-downs and blazers filled his closet and the occasional red cloak. For a man with a complex life, he seemed to live simply.

“Severus, do you have that bag?” she asked as she started to pull a few of Elric's clothes from the closet. One thing that they had brought with them on this long trip was an old beaten carpet bag. Not knowing how much Dumbledore wanted them to retrieve for Elric they had enchanted the bag to be endless so they didn’t have to worry about carrying capacity.

Hearing no response from her coworker she looked up to see Severus rather preoccupied with a door near the back of the house. The entire house was one rather large open room and yet Severus was very interested in one of the only doors. Minerva threw down the few pieces of clothes she was holding on the bed and walked over to where Severus was pulling out his wand.

“What are you doing, Severus? We are supposed to-”

“You are supposed to recover some of Elric’s things. I am trying to recover something else,” Severus muttered quietly. He rolled up his sleeves and silently chanted “Alohamora.” The lock clicked open and Severus tried the knob. He cursed lightly as he found the door sealed exactly like the other one. Instead of waiting for Minerva’s input, he blasted the door down with his wand. The wood went splintering and slammed into the opposite wall, imprinting itself into the soil.

“Severus!” Minerva exclaimed as the man walked into the newly exposed room. “You can’t just-” she started to scold him but froze as she saw what was hidden behind the door. It wasn’t one to the outside that she originally thought. Instead, it led to a back room that had been sectioned off from the house. It was dark, holding no windows, and dust cluttered the tables. Beakers and vials were set on top of them, old and unused. Sketches of strange gates were scattered over the walls and mysterious runes were scribbled anywhere they could. It looked like a laboratory of a madman. For all Minerva knew, it was.

“What on Earth was he-” she muttered but stopped as she looked down at the floorboards. There was a giant dark brown stain on the floor near the wall. It was old, extremely old, and seemed to have faded over the years but the wooden boards had soaked up the colour for permanent imprintment. Though many would have mistaken it for an old leak or a spill, she knew what it was instantly.

“Blood?” she whispered in horrified disbelief. Severus walked around the room and bent down, looking underneath the tables and benches as if trying to find something. He seemed to be studying the floorboards.

“Severus, what is going on here?” Minerva asked strictly, wanting to understand why this horrible place existed and why it was in the alchemist’s home.

“This is nothing but an old crime scene I guess you could say,” Severus said simply, ignoring her worry.

“But.. what are we doing here then? What are you looking for?! We were just supposed to look for his things-” she said, demanding an answer. The man froze as he seemed to have come upon what he was looking for. Near the far back corner of the room, the two wizards noticed the floorboards were fused. It was just like the doors were previously. Severus pulled out his wand again and Minerva looked over his shoulder wondering what on Earth he was going to do.

“Peribit!” he cast and Minerva saw a large section of the floorboards get cut out around the mysterious malformation. Severus knelt down and with all of his might heaved the heavy boards away from where they lay, opening up the wooden foundation.

“Oh my god,” Minerva muttered as she stared into what lay beneath. In the dark underlay of the house sat one thing that the Professors of Hogwarts thought that they would never see again. Glistening in even the dark lighting of the back room, laid the ruby-encrusted sword of Godric Gryffindor. Its long silver blade, mightily sharp and strong, lay coated in a rather fine layer of a brown crumbly matte. More blood. Severus leaned down and picked the sword up gently in his hands, staring at its goblin craftsmanship. “Severus, what is it doing in Elric’s house-”

“Minerva,” the man sighed as he handed the sword to her gently. She grasped it, careful not to touch the dried blood that remained on the edge. A thought in the back of her mind told her that it had to do with the stain in the back of the room but she didn’t think she could handle the connection at that point. “Flamel, since last year, has been telling us a few things about his old mentor. Dumbledore sent me to come recover a few relics.”

“A few? But where did Elric get these? The sword of Gryffindor? He’s a Ravenclaw!”

“According to Flamel… it was given to him-”

“By who?!”

“Godric himself,” Severus told her as he bent back down into the foundation of the subterranean house and looted around for something else. Minerva looked back down at the sword in disbelief. How old was the Eastern Sage? Severus grabbed a hold of something out of Minerva’s line of sight and pulled it out from the floorboards. He seemed a little dissettled which scared Minerva even more. After all they saw that day, the man didn’t look too disturbed until now. Minerva leaned over his shoulder trying to see what he was holding, her curiosity getting the better of her.

In his hands, he held an old iron mask that seemed to be delicately hammered and engraved by an excellent blacksmith. However aside from the handiwork put into it, the mask was absolutely frightening in its detail. The face was distorted into one of pain. The mouth was opened and down turned as if it were screaming, the eyes open and scared. It was a torture device, ancient in days, yet used all the same. Minerva felt a cold shiver run down her back as she noticed that the clasps that held the mask on and in place held dents and scratch marks around them as if someone tried to claw the thing off of their head like a wild animal. The mask was made from a strong iron was wasn't made to break. That fact only made its worn appearance that much more horrifying.

“What… Severus, what is it?” Minerva whispered as the man held it. He was just as entranced and horrified as she was. Whatever the mask was made for it wasn’t meant to come off. Minerva couldn’t imagine the pain and torture that the person behind it had to live through. Severus flipped it over a few times, still studying its design. There was a line of runes around the mask’s interior holding some sort of ancient magic to it Minerva couldn’t figure out. Whatever it was, it had to be dark for what else could have been carved into a device so devastatingly horrid?

“This is what Dumbledore wanted me to pick up,” Severus mumbled absentmindedly as he stared into it. “It is the only thing that can stop the Eastern Sage.”

……….

Edward let out a strangled cry as his body, scorched and burnt black, was pulled off the pile of embers that surrounded the pyre. The chains around his wrists and legs were bright orange from baking in the fire's heat and ate away at his skin and cooked him down to his bones. His lungs hurt from the smoke and his muscles were charred like a pig left to roast too long. It hurt so bad! With as much pain as he was in he should have been dead. Any normal person would have been but around him was the alchemic crackle of energy as his skin slowly regrew, shedding the burnt meat off like a layer of skin.

Edward gasped for air as his lungs were healed from inhaling the hot smoke. He felt cool tears of pain and terror fill his eyes and drown out the fiery sting of burnt skin on his face. Sobs wracked his chest as the soldiers carried his limp body off of the burning pyre and onto a small stage that was set up for the execution. This was the seventh day he had been pulled onto that stage. It was the tenth failed burning. The number of beheadings was of a higher count.

The soldiers forced him down on his knees but he didn't even have the energy to stand. He pleaded to them with the breaths that escaped his terror-filled sobs but his words fell upon deaf ears. A raging crowd swarmed around the small stage, fists pointing angrily at him like he was a vermin carrying a plague. Screams roared like the fire that had once consumed him as people taunted him with fear in their own eyes.

"He's a witch! Fire should have killed him!"

"A demon! Immortal!"

"Burn him again!" Edward heard the angered cries call forth. The priests beside him muttered prayers and consulted amongst each other their concerns about the demon they had captured. They listed different forms of torture, blades, fire, and water that were the most effective against witches. Edward shook his head as he constantly denied their accusations.

"Please, please," he sobbed, tears were running down his face but it seemed little to hold anyone's concern. "I am not a witch. Please. Magic doesn't exist." His mutterings only earned him a hard whack on the head which sent him curled down onto the rough unsanded planks of the execution stage. It only made him cry harder.

"Edward, calm down. We are here with you," he heard a soft familiar voice call to him in his ear. He tried to turn his head to see who it was but there was no one but the raving priests and executioners around him.

"The Duke wants to see the immortal. He offered us instructions on-"

"Brother, everything will be alright," he heard the unforgettable voice of his brother whisper in his ear drowning out the conspiring priests. A shudder ran down Edward's chest and he tried to choke down his sobs. He quieted down as he listened to the soothing nonsense that his friends were telling him. They were all there, he had to remember. They were all there with him.

"Brother, you are never alone, remember that. We will figure out a way to help you but know you are not alone. " Edward didn't have words for his brother. He didn't think he could talk without begging once more for the pain to stop. He simply nodded his head tiredly as his body still shook with fear. However just as he seemed to be calming down, orders sprang up from the soldiers around him.

"Get him up. Get the witch over to the block. Keep his head down-" Edward's body was jerked as the soldiers lifted him up. His heart leaped and he pulled and fought against them, no matter how weak he was. A terrified scream rang out through the air as they shoved his head down on a cold iron anvil. A dirty man with a smile filled with too much pleasure loomed over him.

"Just his size," his scratchy voice hummed and suddenly, blocking his vision was the inside of a thick iron mask. Intricate runes were carved delicately into its iron body. They glowed red with the heat of the fire. It was an iron mask of infamy. Edward pulled and writhed under the arms that held him down to the stone but they wouldn't budge even as the mask came down closer towards his face.

“N-no… No!” Edward screamed as he felt his heart beat furiously in his throat. Edward closed his eyes as felt the cool metal slide against his face and the iron bit slide into his mouth allowing him to release one last scream before the mask could silence him forever. He fought but the mask was locked in place around his head, a heavy weight for the end. He sobbed loudly as he shook his head and banged it against the anvil trying to get it off of him. The people inside him, his brother and his friends who had promised to be there for him were gone. He only heard the shouts and screams from the angry crowd around him, taunting and laughing at him. They blended into a harmony of rage which quickly filled his heart with a fear that he knew would never leave until the day they finally figured out how to kill him.

“Edward-”

“He can’t die-”

“Edward-”

“To the dungeons!”

“Kill him!"

“EDWARD” a loud voice shouted and Edward shot up as he tried to break free from the invisible binds against him. He reached up to his face and frantically began clawing at it to get the cold metal trap off of his head. A hand gripped his wrist trying to stop him but he fought as hard as he could. He needed to get it off.

“Edward, stop… STOP!” the loud voice ordered him and suddenly Edward felt his eyes shoot open and the light blinded him in the absence of the dark abyss. He blinked the blindness away and he saw the concerned steel face of Mustang kneeling before him. The man was holding onto his trembling wrists, stopping him from clawing his own face off with his hands. The man’s gloves scratched his skin as they were rough from the flint that Edward intertwined in them when he created the body. Edward looked down at his own hands to see that he had drawn some blood as his fingers were stained a light crimson color. However, there wouldn’t be a scratch or a scar. There never was.

Edward’s head quickly snapped around as he tried to figure out where he was. Soft white blankets covered him and a middle-aged witch hung over him in nursing garb with as concerned a face as Mustang’s would have been. He was in Hogwarts in the Hospital Ward. It was only a dream.

He closed his eyes tiredly and collapsed back into bed, a wave of exhaustion escaping him. A thick layer of sweat coated him and he felt like his skin was on fire, as if the flames in his dream were all real.

“You had a nightmare,” Roy stated flatly, snapping him out of his wonderings.

“Yeah, what gave that away,” Edward retorted breathlessly, trying to sound annoyed but the fear of the dream seemed to have stuck to his voice as it quivered with every shake of his breath. He brought his hands up to his face and saw that they were shaking terribly. He quickly clasped them together to try and cover up how badly it had shaken him.

“It was about the mask wasn’t it,” the man asked, seeing through his facade easily and Edward silently nodded his head.

“Among other things,” he mumbled vaguely. Roy sighed, knowing full well the tortures he had lived through as, he too, had to live them inside of the stone. There was a gap of silence as the man waited for him to continue, even though he knew that was the last thing he was going to do. It wasn’t something Edward was ever going to talk about.

“Wh-why is it so hot in here?” Edward complained as he tried to divert the conversation. The witch, who Edward didn’t know the name of, rounded to the other side of the bed and gently placed her hand on his forehead as if to check for a temperature. Edward fought his urge to fight it as he was still squeamish from anything touching his face.

“That would be the invigoration draught. Feeling warm will be a side effect on many. Your friend here told me you needed it… rather angrily,” the woman said giving the armor her own glare. He guessed that Roy must have forgotten that they didn’t speak old English and tried to tell the nurse what happened. Edward could just see the argument rising now. Though he didn’t know the nurse, he could tell she wasn’t one to lose a fight. “You seemed to have overworked yourself. Those pixies can be mighty nasty. But it seems you did more than a fine job with them. There doesn't seem to be anything left but ash,” she hummed as she seemed to have found nothing else wrong with him aside from him being unconscious for some time. Edward groaned as he waved her away, desperately wanting his space.

“I-I’m fine… I’m fine now. Just… a bit dizzy that’s all. Guess I hit my head,” he mumbled, giving Roy an effective glare. The armor shrugged lightly not seeming to care too much about his opinion of hospitals. The nurse rolled her eyes as she uncorked another bottle of draught and poured a rather large glass of the distasteful drink. Edward grimaced as he saw the thick blue liquid settle in the glass. She handed it to him and he reluctantly took it.

“This is the last glass, once down you can leave. You needed triple the dose just for it to appear to work,” she said curiously. “You are the easiest patient to heal I ever had, let me tell you. However, I don’t want to see you in here ever again.” The woman waved her wand and the blood off of his fingers and face disappeared. He lightly touched his face where he clawed at it. It really did feel like the mask was still on him. It was cold, and suffocating. He remembered the long years trapped behind it. He didn’t even know magic like that existed, that was until it was already on him.

“Edward,” Mustang scolded him lightly as he felt the armor pull his hand away again.”It’s not on you. It’s gone.” Edward snapped out of his thoughts and noticed that he lightly was scratching his face again. He shivered as he dropped his hand back down to his lap and wrapped his fingers around the potion glass firmly.

“So drink this and I can leave?” he asked sheepishly and the nurse nodded her head. Taking a deep breath, Edward lifted the glass with his shaking hands and downed the nasty contents. Tasted like overly tart raspberries. An instant feeling of vitality filled him and his trembling slowed down ever so slightly. His skin heated up and he felt horribly hot, like he was boiling on a summer day. But he felt awake and the more energy he had the farther away the horrible dream seemed to be. He slowly kicked his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Mustang’s armor clacked forward to help steady him. Though he still felt lopsided and his legs quaked a bit, Edward waved him off.

“What time is it?” he asked quietly as he lightly moved forward to grab his cloak which was lying on the bed next to him. He picked up the thick wool fabric to put it on but thought differently and just draped it over his arm. The fire was too hot for that.

“The Great Hall should be open for breakfast, dear. I would go get some if I were you,” the nurse ordered him gently. “That’s not a suggestion.” Edward nodded his head and softly thanked her before heading towards the door.

“Bastard, you are good for a few more hours I guess?” he asked as he passed the metal suit. It nodded its helmeted head. It had been a while since Edward had placed him in the suit and he guessed he really did overdo it if the bonds that kept Mustang in the armor still held strong. Knowing that the man would find him if anything went wrong, Edward continued his silent walk towards the door. Mustang didn’t follow him and he didn’t expect him to.

“Are you going to be alright?” Alphonse’s voice asked him, deep worry laced into it.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I just need some space for a while.”

……….

“I never saw anyone so scared from a dream before,” Madam Pomfrey said lightly as she stripped the bed that the alchemist was lying on moments before. Roy sighed as he bent over in his huge armored body and started to pick up some of the potion bottles from the bedside table and set them on a tray to be put away. It had been hundreds of years since Edward learned how to forge temporary bodies for the souls in the stone but he still never got used to being in it. He was big, bulky, and he couldn’t feel anything.

“Yeah, well, he just had a lot happen to him,” he muttered as he picked up the tray and took it over to the potions cabinet. The glasses clinked together as he moved and he was afraid he might break them.

“I guess with such a… long life he must have seen a great deal of things,” she huffed. With a whip of her wand, the dirty blankets sailed off to somewhere unknown, and a new freshly folded set came out. She started to make the bed slowly as Mustang set the potions away in the cabinet. “Every scar has a story yet… for a man who can heal from anything he sure has a lot of them.”

“Most of them came before he had the stone,” Mustang answered honestly, knowing that Dumbledore had told the faculty who Edward was. “When he expected to have a short life.” With the stone instantly healing Edward’s body, scars and fatal wounds just didn’t exist. However, the few that he did manage to sustain over the thousand years bearing the stone, Edward would never talk to anyone about them. The nurse looked at him curiously, pausing in her housekeeping to raise an eyebrow at his statement.

“And the not ‘most’ ones?” she asked gently as if not to pry too hard into the boy’s life. Roy sighed as he set the tray down and quietly closed the cabinet. He could tell that the nurse, as tough as she might be, really did care for every patient that entered her ward. With Edward being such a strange case, she must have taken a liking to him, which was really tough to do. The kid’s rude, tough, and obnoxious behavior mixed with his intimidating presence of being an ancient and genius man, pushed most people away. The fact that his hundred years of self-induced isolation destroyed any and all of his social skills also wasn't helping either. Roy could already tell that most of the faculty were wary of him even after one day. However, the nurse wasn’t intimidated, either because she dealt with many rowdy patients before or because she didn’t care who Edward was. She treated him like a normal patient and seemed to be really concerned for him even though the dangers of his nightmares were long gone.

“Before Hogwarts was made… we didn’t know much about the relation of magic and the normal world,” Roy told her hesitantly. His voice rang in the hollow metal entrapment he was in as he tried to think of how to explain to her what had really scared Edward so much. The nurse stayed quiet and listened intently. “Most of the dutchies in Europe were fine with the thought of potions and spells but… others… not so much. We just ended up in the wrong one and they… mistaken Edward for a witch.”

“But… isn’t he a wizard?”

“He doesn’t like to be called that,” Roy said a little too quickly Pomfrey was a little taken back.

“Oh, I am sorry-”

“No… no. It’s just… well we didn’t know magic existed at the time. And he was put to trial as a witch yet…” he muttered but his voice trailed off as he remembered the horrible screams his subordinate had let out as the fire ran up his feet and burned his body on the stake. Roy couldn't help him. No matter how hard Edward screamed and cried out, Roy could do nothing to help him as he was stuck inside the stone. The only thing he could give Edward was his voice as a reminder that he wasn't suffering alone, but even that was taken when the villagers had used that damn mask. Masks of infamy were made to humiliate people trapped behind them. The one that Edward bore was made to restrain him. Roy didn’t know how they made it, how they knew it worked. Runic Magic was not something muggles knew how to use but they were on the mask that they forced around Edward’s head. They blocked the tectonic energy from him, much like how Father did to the whole country of Amestris. He couldn't use alchemy with the mask on and because of that he couldn't use the stone. Without it, Edward was alone.

A sudden hand resting on his forearm snapped him out of his memories and he looked up to see the nurse looking sympathetically up at him. Even though he was an expressionless suit of armor, it seemed that Pomfrey knew when he was hurting. Without finishing, she seemed to understand.

"He's safe here now, that is what matters," she told him softly. Roy nodded his head knowing it to be true. Out of everything that Edward went through in his years on this side of the Gate, he was at least still alive and healing. Though the memories of the pain and the torture of the trials and crusades still hung over him like a cloak he was unable to shed, Edward was alive and pushing through. That was what mattered.

“Yeah, well, if only he knew that,” Roy said clearing his throat, even though he had nothing to clear in the armor. It was just a habit he had even when he was just a soul. “Um… thank you for the potion. Edward has a tendency to forget his own limits."

“The Invigoration draught?” the nurse asked as she suddenly snapped out of her stupor. "It would have been easier to know what he needed if you hadn't come racing in speaking in tongues, but we got it done."

“Oh, yeah, that,” Roy answered awkwardly. “Sorry about before I am just so used to speaking the old tongue-”

“Don't worry about that, lad,” the woman chuckled absently. “It doesn't take much to forget-”

“Unfortunately not for everything,” Roy mumbled. He thanked the nurse one last time with a little bow and silently left the ward. He needed to find Edward.

……

Edward stumbled through the Entrance Hall in a daze. He knew he needed to go to the Great Hall for some breakfast but he wasn't quite up to fighting the staring eyes from the faculty. He just needed to be alone for a little bit.

“ Brother, you should talk to someone. It might make you feel better-”

“I am fine I just… need to get some air,” Edward stuttered as he found that his own feet were leading him straight for the entranceway. The doors were open, beckoning sunshine.

“ You know you cant-” Alphonse started as Edward tried reaching his hand towards the barrier to test it again. He knew he couldn't go but with Alphonse obvious statement he felt his false hopes crushed. He felt a tightness in his chest and he grabbed his shirt trying to ease the pain he felt there. He tiredly rested his head against the invisible wall to the outside and closed his eyes. A tired defeated chuckle escaped his lips as he felt a cool summer breeze rush past him. Air was able to pass through and yet he was stuck on this side of the doorway.

“ Edward,” Winry’s soft voice said.

“Hmm?” Edward hummed quietly, unable to speak at the moment.

“You are still shaken up-”

“Obviously,” he huffed. “It isn’t something you can easily forget. Even after all these years...”

“ Try to talk to someone. Please,” her voice of reason spoke.

“I have 50,875,621 people inside me. I am practically a social butterfly,” he sighed tiredly.

“ It's not the same now is it?” Edward glanced back behind him where the doors to the Great Hall hung open. He heard a bunch of chatter and laughing coming from it. It wasn't like the voices in his dream, it was light-hearted, happy. Edward frowned as he felt a tug in his chest from the thought of it. He had that many people inside of him yet he knew he would never be able to see their faces ever again. They would never be able to interact ever again. Armored bodies were limited to only the stronger souls who would last in them for that long. Without spirits to attach their souls to their bodies, others would just float away into oblivion, back to truth. Some of his friends had learned that the hard way. Even then though, an armored body can only do so much.

Edward closed his eyes in exhaustion. He didn't feel like he had the energy to move let alone talk. He just wanted to get away.

“It’s been ages since you actually talked to anyone. Ever since Sir Porpington died you became kind of a hermit,” Alphonse said lightly though his voice was filled with concern. “ You don’t know how to talk to people anymore.”

“Yeah well, I don't want to,” Edward huffed under his breath as he stood up away from the door. “Why would I talk to them… especially about this? The only people that would understand, the only ones that I care about-”

“ Are inside of you,” Winry finished with a whisper. Hearing her say it out loud was like a stab into his heart. He closed his mouth for a bit and took a deep breath to try to contain himself.

“Yes, or… gone,” he finished stiffly trying to end the conversation.

“ Brother-” Alphonse started to say but Edward shook his head massaging the back of his neck tiredly.

“Just… not now,” he sighed tiredly as he turned back towards the great hall. He stared at the open doors and watched some students walk out of it chattering happily to each other. Groaning to himself and massaging a headache away before it would be able to bloom, he started towards the hall for some breakfast that the nurse had ordered him to get.

He stumbled into the great hall to find that he had much the same effect as the previous morning. Everyone's happy chatter quieted down as their eyes locked on him when he passed. A sudden self-consciousness grew over him as he strode down the aisle towards the High table. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out to ease the nervousness that grew inside of him. Edward quickly filled a plate of food like the previous day, the eyes of everyone in the room on him, and turned to leave with the intent of going back to his room, but before he could get to the door he had a few students walk up to him nervously. They were a couple of ravenclaws from his second-year class.

“Professor, we… we think we understand the first law-”

“Tell me during class-” Edward sighed as he tried to push past them but they were persistent.

“But we don’t have class today and… well-”

“We would like to see if we are right-”

“You’re not,” Edward said curtly, making the students frown. The looks on their faces were filled with hurt as their hopes were squashed by the teacher they were trying to impress. Edward looked down at the ground quickly so he didn’t have to see the children’s torn expressions. Nervous and scared as they already were, the two students from his own house stepped back and cleared his path, their hearts broken. Not even looking at them he walked past, out of the great hall, and towards the staircase.

“Edward,” Winry scolded, her voice thick with disappointment. Edward tuned the rest of her lecture out as he marched through the castle in solitude. Even with the 50,875,621 other people inside of him, he still couldn’t help but feel alone.

………

Harry watched as Professor Elric exited the Great Hall leaving the two Ravenclaw students in his wake. He was never too close with any ravenclaws let alone those from a grade higher than he was, but he felt some sympathy for the disappointment that they held. The Professor was cold, he was cruel, and he didn’t seem to be the one to give second chances let alone first ones.

“Reminds me of Snape,” Ron muttered as if he read his mind. “Sulks around all day, muttering nonsense to himself-”

“He does tend to talk to himself a lot, doesn’t he?” Hermione asked as if she was suddenly aware of it. “I saw him just outside the Great Hall when I was coming in. He looked… upset-””

“Not the word I would have used,” Ron complained just to earn a stab in the side. He rubbed his ribs in pain and glared at the offender. “I am just saying, he’s probably so rude he offended himself. He didn’t even give them a chance. How are we supposed to learn alchemy if he doesn’t even let us try to answer the three laws? I really don’t know how we are supposed to do this.”

“I was looking into the library for some books to try and figure them out but there is just not enough out there on alchemy-”

“Why don’t you use the one you had before? He took it from you. He might just be hiding the answers so he doesn’t have to teach us.”

“I did actually but… I think he was right. That alchemy seemed wrong. It required wand work and what the Professor did yesterday....”

“He didn’t even have a wand he just claps his hands,” Harry said remembering the previous evening in Lockhart’s classroom when the pixies were wreaking havoc everywhere. Lockhart proved how incompetent he was as a teacher even more than he already did. Hermione still thought that it was all for ‘hands-on experience’. However they didn’t know what they were doing, neither did Lockhart it seemed. And what came to their actual fright was the fact that the last teacher left in the room didn’t even have a wand.

“How can you be a wizard and not even have a wand?” Ron announced loudly.

“Because he’s not a wizard,” a rough voice said behind them. The three Gryffindors spun around in their seats and stared wide-eyed at the black suit of armor that their professor had created to defeat the pixies. Though for being a large clunky suit of armor, it moved near silently. Harry had heard of magic being able to animate suits of armor, but he never actually had a conversation with one. They weren’t conscious. They didn’t have a voice, but this one did. Their Professor was able to create and give life to a suite of armor all without a wand. That was impossible.

“You-You’re,” Ron stumbled as he tried to speak in the presence of the intimidating armor.

“Colonel Roy Mustang,” the voice in the armor rang out, “And I would respect it if you didn’t talk behind my subordinate’s back. He has it hard enough as it is.” The three of them looked at each other guiltily. They weren’t expecting the armored man to overhear them. However, instead of scolding them further, the man seemed distracted. He looked around the Great Hall as if searching for something. “You were talking about Elric. You must have seen him. Where did he go?” Harry pointed towards the door and the Colonel looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see the professor standing there. Seeing as that wasn’t the case he let out a long sigh and thanked the three of them. He turned to leave and his armor clanked with him.

“Wait… um… Mr. Mustang what do you mean that the Professor isn’t a wizard? There are muggle wards everywhere, if he wasn’t a wizard-” Hermione started but the black armor froze and the red glowing eyes of it glared back at her.

“He just doesn’t like to be called that. I would hate for you to figure out why,” the armor said quickly. “Now if you will excuse me I need to find your teacher.” The three of them watched the strange suit of armor stride out of the room with strict steps. After the man was gone Hermione leaned in, hoping that no unexpected visitors would pop into their conversation.

“So he’s a wizard he just doesn’t want to be?” she asked them curiously.

“Who doesn’t want to be a wizard?” Harry asked innocently. Magic was his salvation from the Dursleys and their boring normal life. It was wondrous and amazing. He couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting any part of it.

“I don’t like that guy,” Ron muttered as he glanced back toward the door where the armor disappeared. “To be able to do all of that… without magic? Something has to be going on-”

“Creation of conscious life by magic is physically impossible. I highly doubt Alchemy can do it too-” Hermione mumbled as she started to think.

“But the professor just did it! The result was standing right in front of you-”

“How isn’t it possible? We don’t know anything about alchemy yet,” Harry asked cutting off Ron’s outbursts.

“Well,” Hermione started as she tried to process all of her thoughts. “It just doesn’t sound equivalent now does it?”

…….

Edward sat in the empty window of the middle courtyard with his breakfast plate in his lap and his legs dangling over the edge. He toed the green grass of late summer. The courtyard was the only place in the foundation of the entire castle where he could be outside for even a short time. It was the small length of grass trapped between the four walls of the castle with a small roofed walkway overhead incase it rained. It was small, cramped, and nearly packed with students all the time which was why he never went there. But being so early in the morning, Edward guessed that the students had better things to do than to sit in the courtyard and jabber on about pointless nonsense. Frankly, he was quite relieved. Though it was practically a dog pen that the headmaster gave him for some run space, like an obedient puppy he took it. The feeling of being trapped was so overwhelming to him that he just needed to get outside, even if he still was surrounded by four walls. Though it eased his panic a bit, Edward still found his hand twitching to reach up and scratch his face every now and then. He wished more than anything just to leave the stupid magic castle and to get away from all of the horrible memories but he couldn’t. He was a prisoner though Dumbledore refused to call him that.

Edward sighed as he poked at his food, not really eating it, but taking in the color of the well-kept grass. The sun wasn’t up high enough to cast light past the walls and into the courtyard so it was ridden with shadows. Even the wind couldn’t get into the small green. It was just a mimic of freedom, a false hope. Edward could feel the souls inside of him try to comfort him. Winry and Alphonse were probably worried about him, but he tuned them out, blocking himself off from the concern of the stone. He just needed time, but that seemed to be the only thing he really had left.

Taking a small unsatisfactory bite of his pumpkin bread, Edward gazed out across the yard to see a figure moving in the opposite walkway. At first, he thought it to be a student, the first in a swarm of many to come and he got up on his feet to leave but stopped. As he looked closer to the figure he noticed that it was white, pale white, and nearly transparent. He felt his heart skip a beat when he realized it was a ghost. The woman’s hair flowed down to her waist and her long dress moved effortlessly in her pale appearance. His heart beat slowly and hard in his chest as he stared at the figure floating across the way.

It can't be, he thought in shock as the woman's appearance was all too familiar. The sharp look in her eye, the tall purposeful strides. It just can't be her. As the ghost rounded the corner gracefully Edward found his heart freezing up as he stared into the face of his old professor.

“Professor Ravenclaw!” Edward shouted out suddenly in fright of himself. He was quite literally staring at a ghost from his past. Though he knew the poor woman to be long gone, just seeing her was a shock to the heart. Having not seemed to hear him, Edward set his plate down and sped down the walkway towards her. “Professor Ravenclaw, wait! Please!” he begged her and the apparition halted for a fraction of a minute just so that he could catch up.

“I am not who you think I am,” the soft voice of the ghost said stiffly, though it wasn’t cold at all. Edward stopped to catch his breath and listened to her. She turned slightly and Edward stared as he got a better look at the woman he was chasing. His heart dropped in dismay as he realized that it wasn’t his old professor, the one person who really helped him in the first few years he had landed in this crazy and miserable world.

“Oh,” Edward mumbled to himself as he straightened out, his shoulders still slumped in defeat. “Hello, Helena.”

“Hello Paracelsus,” the founder's daughter replied. She looked so similar to her mother Edward unfortunately mistook her but he knew that they couldn't have been any more different. “You don’t look well.”

“Um… yeah… well that happens to people-”

“Not to you,” she said flatly, her voice smooth and her eyes piercing Edward glared at the woman. He remembered her at Hogwarts when she was first born. She was intelligent, everything a Ravenclaw should be, but she was extremely jealous. Edward saw the way she looked at her mother’s diadem when she grew older. He finished his schooling and then was just studying under the professor for years as an intern. He watched Helena grow up and she watched him as he didn’t. He remembered the day that she found out about the stone. He refused to teach her and turned to a fight of the ages, though unheard of by many. It was only when she ran away that the fighting ceased. It was when Rowena died of heartbreak that it began again tenfold.

“You could have saved her, you know. Healed her,” Helena started. Edward felt his chest tighten up as he remembered the death at the bedside of the old woman. It was his first encounter with the shock of not aging; to watch all of your friends die while you stay the same. Hohenheim had told him about the burden before the promised day, but before Rowena Ravenclaw, he didn’t know how much of an impact it had. “Instead,” the young woman continued, “you keep it all to yourself, not even sharing the knowledge that makes you great-”

“It doesn’t make me great!” Edward scolded her. “Your mother died of a broken heart. She couldn’t stand being without you and yet you stayed away-”

“Ha! You can’t die of a broken heart! Though I bet, to you, it sure feels like it sometimes,” Helena started out mocking but her voice went soft as Edward felt his chest tighten with her words. He looked down in shame. He gripped the collar of his coat tightly as if it was suffocating him.

“Yes,” he whispered softly and Helena looked down on him in pity, eyes full of sorrow. Edward shook his head, trying to beat the intruding thoughts away. “Why are you here Helena, what do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you about your class-”

“Yes, it’s what you wanted all of these years right? For me to actually teach alchemy-”

“No,” the woman cut in. “You aren’t teaching alchemy. You are just pretending to. I see how you ran your classes and talked to your students.”

“When they understand the three laws I will teach them in full but they haven’t done that yet-”

“They try and you insult them without giving them a chance. I watched you in class. You couldn’t have been any worse. You pushed the students away and never gave them right answers to their questions. You don’t give them a chance like those two ravenclaws.”

“They don’t have the right answer they couldn’t-”

“Paracelsus,” Helena scolded him, cutting him off. “One thing you have lost sight of was the purpose of the house of Ravenclaw-”

“It’s for the wise, knowledgeable,” Edward muttered starting to recite the house summary.

“Wrong! Don’t you remember my mother at all?”

“Of course I do! Along with the Ambrosius family, she was the one who helped me get away from that wretched prison. I couldn’t forget her-”

“And yet you have!” she yelled at him. “My mother fought for you to stay in the school not because you had a knowledgeable mind but because you had the passion to learn. She taught you because you held the essence of the Ravenclaw house in you. It isn’t about being smart it's about understanding the power of learning. How could you forget that?”

“I haven’t forgotten that I just don’t care anymore!” Edward retorted.  If the ghost could have blushed in anger she would have but unfortunately, spirits were just images of the past and had no physical body. Helena, though she had aged to a nice young woman, glared and pouted at him like a child, cheeks puffed ever so slightly turning a dark silver from her ghostly flush. Edward remembered that face from when Rowena was tutoring him and she wasn’t allowed to join in. He closed his eyes in aggravation and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a hot breath of air. “I don’t mean that. I just… I-”

“In the stone’s youth, you have become a bitter old man. Teach your students like they are your peers. They have the will to learn. Don’t deny them any longer,” she ordered him.

“I don’t want to teach alchemy. Even if they do want to learn…,” Edward muttered. “You know I didn’t choose to do this. I didn’t choose any of this-”

“And so your life continues on a path that isn’t your own,” Helena sighed as she stared at him, eyes filled with pity. “We never choose anything we just have to make the best of what we got. Living with the stone has made you forget how to live as a person. You want so little but only what you can’t have. It has made you angry and you push the very things away that might just make being here all the better-”

“And that is?” Edward asked impatiently. Helena looked absolutely disappointed that he hadn’t figured it out yet. She shook her head in dismay and simply said.

“People.” Edward frowned as Helena repeated what Alphonse and Winry were trying to tell him earlier.

“But how are people supposed to help if they just keep finding new ways to torture me-”

“Remember you old fool,” Helena said sharply, mimicking her mother’s strict voice that she used to use all the time in his tutoring sessions when he was in Hogwarts. He shut his mouth quickly as she continued. “You don’t get to choose what happens to you. You just make the best of what you have. Now teach your class and help the school or else I will see to it that you remember where you were before Hogwarts helped you.”

“I don’t think I need your help with that,” Edward hissed coldly under his breath as he remembered the overhanging nightmare he had in the hospital wing and Helena just smirked after her threat.

“I know, but I sure can make it a lot worse,” she said before she spun around and glided off to wherever her ghostly form was heading previously. Edward watched her as she disappeared out of the courtyard and her body’s luminescence faded into the depths of the castle. She reminded him so much of her mother and yet she was hell to him. Edward muttered some ungodly curses under his breath as he marched back to where he had left his half-eaten breakfast plate. He picked it up and flopped back down in the crook he had wedged himself in before.

“You know, sometimes I wish I could have strangled her,” Edward growled as he angrily took a few bites of his breakfast.

“ Brother, she’s… already dead,” Alphonse muttered, stating the obvious.

“Looks like someone beat me to it-”

“Edward!” Winry gasped at him.

“I am joking,” he grumbled flatly. “She’s just…”

“ Right when you are wrong and wrong when you are right, ” Winry answered for him. Edward nodded his head just for Winry’s satisfaction. “That’s just how women work,” she smirked.

“Of course it is,” he muttered in disbelief.

“ But… Helena is right, Edward. Just try to teach your class-”

“I just-” Edward started to retort but cut himself off. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Brother, you have been learning alchemy your entire life,” Alphonse stated. “ You can do this.”

“I know but what if… what if-”

“ It won’t happen again, Edward. Flamel was a wicked man. You are working with children. They aren’t like him.” Edward groaned as he massaged his brow. Everything from the past few days was so overbearing to him it was driving him insane. If he could he would be back in his home finishing his research, hopefully finding a way back home. Even thinking about Amestris just made him homesick, giving him a headache upon the many he already had. However as he had to keep reminding himself, he couldn’t leave. He was trapped in the stone castle, unable to even go outside for a walk. It was too much like back then. Edward suddenly felt a hand grab his wrist and pull it away. He looked up to see the clanking armor of Roy standing next to him, concern flowing through his soul-fire eyes. Edward glanced down at his hands and realized that he must have started scratching his face again. How long was this nightmare going to hang over him?

“Edward, your classes are starting,” Roy said sternly, avoiding the obvious questions that were floating through his head. Edward knew that he just wanted to ask if he was alright, tell him to go talk to someone, but he knew that Edward wouldn’t listen.

“I hate castles,” Edward muttered as he got up from where he was sitting and made his way toward the Dark Arts tower, the hollow suit of armor following behind him.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 4

The Remedy

Edward, after doing the unfortunate deed of returning Roy back to the stone, walked into his classroom to see the students quietly sitting down, mouths shut, faces front. They looked solemnly obedient, something that only absolute hatred for the class could bring.

“Brother, no one should hate alchemy,” Alphonse said, his fear and disappointment ringing off of his ears. Edward frowned and let out a sigh as he walked over to his desk and opened the drawers. After searching through his desk for a short time, Edward pulled out a huge scroll of parchment, all that he had, and a quill and ink well that the staff had provided him for teaching purposes. He set them on the desk with a loud thump and looked up at the class.

“You all figured out the Law of Equivalent Exchange and the Law of Polarity pretty quickly. It is only the second class but did any of you figure out the First Law yet?” Edward asked them. The class was silent and they all looked down at their desks as they realised just how hard their class was going to be. None of them chose this class, not even the teacher, so they were stuck with it and might as well make the best of it. Letting out a heavy breath of air Edward picked up his supplies and motioned for the class to follow him. They all got up and grabbed their book bags and wands before running out after him. Edward lead his class down the hall and towards the staircase, his students trailing behind him.

“Professor, where are we going?” Edward heard the young Granger ask him.

“To the library for some… inspiration. You are going to have to figure out the first law some time or another so I might as well baby you and give you resources during your class time,” Edward said swiftly as they reached the first floor. “And as you do that, I am going to take my time to write you a proper textbook.”

“A textbook? Really?”

Edward nodded his head. “Unfortunately someone changed my mind on the matter. I guess teaching you the way my teacher taught us isn’t going to work in this day and age. But don't expect much. I haven't written a book before in my life.”

“How did your teacher help you understand the First Law?” Ron Weasley asked curiously.

“She threw me and my brother into the woods for a month with a knife and nothing else,” Edward stated flatly, a fond smirk playing over his face as he remembered his childhood so many hundreds of years ago. Even though he lived many years older than he expected, his old life seemed to have happened just yesterday. The wonderful memories of Amestris, even the bad ones seemed to strike a homesickness in him. He shook his head trying to dash his thought, not wanting to bring up any sad feelings when he was still upset from that morning. He glanced down to see his student’s absolutely horrified face as they listened to his story of his alchemy lessons. “Don’t worry. There are no abandoned islands around here and I don’t think your other teachers would like it very much if you skipped class or got eaten by a cannibal. We will just stick to the library.”

He let his class spread out amongst the tables in the library to search around for their own research materials. They all asked him what genre of books were the best to look in.

“You can find the first law in almost any book you read if you know what you are looking for however, I would stick to natural or spiritual texts if I were you. Though religion seems a jumbled mess, it has a sense of equality to it for the most part,” Edward told them. “Ancient runes are also good. You wizards seemed to have taken  few symbols of alchemy and incorporated it into your magic over the years. It’s really one of the few forms of magic I like. I will be over here if you have questions, but no, I will not give you the answer. Find it yourself.” He said as he pointed to a large table near a select section of shelves. The students whispered amongst themselves as they scattered around the library in search of their answer while Edward gratefully took his seat in silence. He unraveled his parchment and took his quill out to begin writing. Edward never wrote a textbook before however he understood alchemy far better than anyone else in the universe, even his own father who had spread the art around the globe after Xerxes. He could write a simple text book for beginners within a few days. Surely he could spend class time and he weekend making it.

Alphonse advised him on what to put in it, Hohenheim helped him with his wording, and Edward denied all of Roy’s advise as it was narrow mindedly in the concept of fire. A few of his students came up to guess the first law during this time but unfortunately Edward had to send them all back to the drawing board. Some of the students, in hopes of asking a few irrelevant questions, took up seats around him as they read their random books for answers. Unfortunately for him it was the prophecy kid and his friends. Edward had heard that they were asking questions about him and Roy told him about how the three gryffindors seemed to be talking behind his back. After hearing that, they were really the last few people that Edward wanted to sit next to.

“Brother, you should talk to them. Socialize-” Alphonse urged.

“Not with them,” Edward hissed back under his breath as he finished up some of his runes on a basic transmutation circle. However, even though he was quiet the kids next to him seemed to have been listening and it caught their rather easily amused curiosity.

“Professor,” Ron started as he looked up from a book he obviously wasn’t interested in. Edward glanced up from his work, not enthused to have been disrupted.

“Yes?” he sighed, angry that Alphonse led him to conversing. He could just feel the smug grin on his brother’s face.

“Why do you talk to yourself?” the kid asked flatly.

“I don’t talk to myself,” Edward stated the truth flatly hoping to end the conversation. His answer just seemed to confuse the student but there was no way he was elaborating.

“What language do you talk in then?” Hermione picked up, seeing to just want to pry into anything about him.

“English,” he replied curtly.

“That’s not english,” Ron retorted dumbly and Edward glared at him, slightly insulted.

“It is english, just not modern english. It is known as Anglo-Saxon or Amestrian as I like to call it but you will never hear that anywhere but from me,” Edward sighed tiredly.

“How old are you?” Potter exclaimed.

“Older than you.”

“Professor, you can’t just tell us you know an ancient language and not tell us how old you are-” Hermione complained.

“Ancient history ended in the 7th century. Amestrian is not an ancient language. For all you know I could have just learned it like any well known historian would,” Edward replied snidely as he dipped his quill again to start on a new paragraph.

“Professor McGonagall-”

“Doesn’t know a thing about me so I would appreciate it if you would stop asking other people about my life. I don’t like to talk about it,” Edward growled, cutting Potter off. He glared at all of them hoping to send them back to their books. They hesitantly picked up the texts for a short while and Edward had some peace and quiet for just a few moments, letting him pick up his work again. However it didn’t last long at all.

“Professor-”

“Focus on your work.”

“But professor, we just wanted to ask you….,” Hermione started but went quiet as of she was thinking about something. After a little bit Edward looked up rather annoyed and glared at her.

“Ask what?” he pressed impatiently.

“How did you figure out the first law of alchemy?” she questioned, getting back on topic with the class. Edward thought about it for a couple seconds and then smirked. He could never forget his and his brothers first step into alchemy. It was a hard and unforgettable one, but it just made it all that much more purposeful.

“As I said before, my teacher taught us the laws a lot differently than I am teaching you,” he sighed, a small gleam of a smile on his face as he reminisced his past. It was like a daydream, thinking about Amestris. “We were little and hadn’t figured out how to really get enough food to survive on the island yet so we were starving. I just remember thinking of what would happen if I died there on that island.”

“That’s horribly sad thing to think about,” Hermione answered which just made Edward smile even more.

“That’s what I thought too. You’re on the right track now, just set yourself in the right direction,” Edward said as he quickly rolled up his parchment with the ringing of the clock as it struck the hour. “Class dismissed,” he announced as he picked up his things to leave the class to their own devices before they could swarm him with any more questions.  For a second there he thought he felt a light spark of pride in him as he heard Hermione answer him. She sounded so much like he did before the truth of the first law rang into him. If she was anything like he and Alphonse were like, she would get it. Maybe the class wasn’t a lost cause.

“And I thought you didn’t want to teach,” Alphonse teased light heartedly.

“I don’t,” Edward retorted stiffly.

……..

Edward yawned as he slumped over his desk and popped open his pocket watch to check the time. It was late and he had spent nearly the entire evening in his classroom writing that damn textbook. He was only a quarter of the way through what he wanted to do that day but exhaustion was getting to him. Roy warned him not to push himself especially after what had happened that morning and for once Edward was willing to take his advise. He couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer. Like a tired trunk man Edward got up from his desk and packed away all of his things for another day and started down the corridor towards his chambers. Nothing sounded better than a nice shower and a good rest.

“You did good today,” Winry’s voice sounded out. Edward could almost see her gentle smile with the sweet tone in her voice. He smirked lightly, too tired for much else.

“They will get their book by next week. I will just have to ask one of the other teachers to use a copying charm on it. There is no way I am writing a hundred text books by hand,” Edward stated flatly. There was a gentle ease that seemed to flow through him as the souls inside the stone treasured the small step Edward took for his students. It was a good change, and though Edward wanted to argue otherwise, fearing the future and what the wizards might do, he had to admit that it felt nice. He hadn’t felt that way in ages, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Maybe Helena was right. Edward scoffed at the thought of him actually agreeing with that bratty child for once.

“Edward!” a voice suddenly rang out and he groaned to himself, the good feeling in the back of his mind evaporating to nothing as the Dark Arts professor raced down the corridor towards him. “Edward! Just the man I wanted to see!” Gilderoy’s jolly voice sang. Edward glared at the man with all of his might but he was oblivious to the amount of loathing he was throwing his way. Instead of repealing, the idiot wrapped his arm around his shoulder and started to walk with him down the hallway. “I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you this late. I was just checking up on some of my fan mail and lost track of time. I hope those pixies weren’t too hard on you. I knew you could handle them. I just wanted to test my new assistant, let you show what you were worth-”

“What do you want?” Edward growled as he pried the man’s arm from around his shoulder and ducked away from its hold.

“Well, jumping right to the point now aren’t we?” he chuckled lightly. “Well, I was wondering if you would need any help covering your classes over the next few days-”

“Why would I need-”

“With Minerva and Snape off on a trip this early in the year I had to cover for a few of their classes. They just got back this evening but I was wondering if you would need me to-”

“A trip?” Edward questioned. “Where did they go?” He found it odd that not one but two teachers, heads of houses nonetheless, were each going on a trip together on the second day of school. He couldn’t imagine a reason why they would both have to leave or one that Albus would permit.

“Siberia apparently, but let me say that is no place for the likes of you! I was there once with the Order of Air Voyagers for Intrepid Wizards . Flew all the way to Ouagadougou on a broom. Mighty chilly. I don’t think you are up for anything like that yet! Paris seems more your style. Nice city sites, wonderful people. If you were to take a trip I would go there! And don’t worry about your classes, my dear alchemist, I can hold down the fort! I have been giving the students some of my expertise-” Edward tuned him out as soon as he heard the man list an African city claiming it to have been in northern Asia. Why on earth did they go to Siberia? Even in the wizarding world the far northern depths of Siberia were empty of any excitement. Anything farther than Norilsk was mostly cold barren taiga. Edward felt a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that started out as a small itch and then seemed to slap him in the face. He lived in Siberia. He never really called it a home because he never wanted to stay. He wanted to go back to Amestris and forget everything about this side of the gate. However, a person needs a home to at least sleep in and not liking the intruding wizarding population or the persecuting muggles, he lived as far away from them as he physically could for a reasonable amount of time. He made himself comfortable as he researched a way home, that was until Flamel entered his life.

Edward found his hands clenching shut as one of them wrapped around Gilderoy’s robes, dragging him down to his level and effectively shutting his mouth.

“You said they came back,” Edward hissed, his burning eyes boring into him, “Where are they now?” The man was slightly flustered from Edward’s aggressiveness but he managed to stutter out an answer.

“P-probably back in their chambers! It is late after all. They probably went to bed, like we should be doing now!” he smiled fearfully. “I-I thought you would have known. They stopped by your room for a little bit-” Edward dropped Lockhart hearing that and stormed down the corridor, his feet gliding at a wicked pace. Gilderoy called after him but did not follow as Edward ran past the one eyed witch statue and to his chamber portrait. It was an absolutely ugly picture of a squat man sitting on an even squatter horse. Edward was hoping to remove the thing but he knew that if he did he wouldn’t be able to get into his chambers. He would have to ask Dumbledore for a replacement at least, but that was for another time.

He ripped the portrait open and Edward marched in, a sense of unease strangely filling him. Nothing seemed out of place, though that was hard when his room was barren to begin with, but as he moved into the room, he heard it. Music. Edward looked up from where his mind was preoccupied to see a record player sitting on the window sill of the room playing light swing from an earlier part of this current century. His room was supposed to be empty, barren of all life. He didn’t bring anything from home when he was trapped there, why in the world was there a record player? Edward scooted his way across the room towards where the old thing was spinning about. There was a box of records beside it waiting to be put away and he picked it up, sifting through the old things. He felt his heart stutter as it beat faster upon his realization that those were his. Those were his records from his house.

“Brother… what’s going on?” Alphonse asked just as confused as he was. Edward dropped the box and started around his room. Journals on shelves, his, papers on the desk, his, cup for tea, his. Edward flung open his wardrobe to see his own clothes hanging in there. Instead of being happy that he had some of his own stuff now in his chambers Edward grew absolutely infuriated.

“ALBUS!” he raged as he dropped his things and burst out of his chamber portrait. He nearly ran all the way through the castle towards the man’s office, flinging curses out of his mouth like it was the only language he learned.

“ Brother, they were trying to do something nice. It might not even have been them!” Alphonse tried to reason.

“How did they find it? How did they know where we lived? There were wards! Everything! Hell, I haven’t even been there since the Second World War!” Edward raged as he clapped his hands together and slammed them into the griffin gargoyle that guarded the man’s office. It disintegrated in a rather rough explosion and the entire castle seemed to shake in its wake, but he stood firm. Edward marched through the thick cloud of rubble and up the stairs, kicking down the door of the Headmaster’s office. He didn’t care that the Headmaster seemed to be in a meeting with a few other people. He didn’t care that they looked at him as if he were a monster from hell. He was furious and glad that people knew it.

“Hagrid,” the headmaster’s voice said calmly, eyes carefully watching Edward as he made his way up to the desk. “Just wait a couple of moments we can continue this later-”

“But the chickens-”

“Hagrid-” the man scolded stiffly this time. Edward pushed past the large man as he was sent out the door to wait and slammed his hands on the desk. He heard the old wood groan beneath the force.

“How the fuck did you get into my house,” Edward seethed. His voice was so quiet yet his anger sounded off like cattle in a stampede. “What did you take? What were you after?!” he asked. His voice grew louder with every answer he demanded. “You had no right to be there!”

“Paracelsus-,”

"It's Edward, you old buffoon!"

"Edward," the headmaster corrected calmly, “I have every right to be concerned over the welfare of one of my employees. As I have come to realize, you have no written ownership of any house, you have no history of paying taxes-”

“Are you the fucking tax collector now?”

“No, but I have to make sure my professors are living… good lives, I guess you should say. And since you have no written ownership of that house-”

“Because I made it myself!-”

“I technically wasn’t trespassing.”

“How did you even find it? I have wards up, everything. No one knows where I live except…,” Edward dropped his head into his hands and shook it in disbelief. Why did everything have to wrap around that man?

“We addressed our concerns to Flamel and he showed us where it was a long while ago. We thought that it might have made you more comfortable to have some homely things here in Hogwarts during your stay.”

“A long while ago?” Edward asked, hearing Dumbledore's slip up. “How long were you following me? I have only been here for a few days!”

“Long enough,” Dumbledore admitted. “With Voldemort wanting the stone, and the prophecy, we have been worried he might have gone after you.”

“So you are protecting me now? OH! What a lovely surprise. So all of this has just been to protect me?” Edward said the sarcasm dripping from his words like venom. He laughed harshly at the headmaster. “I am so thankful. Wow, for a second there I thought you were only trying to use me to help that Potter kid.” The headmaster narrowed his eyes and Edward knew he struck a chord with him. “When will you learn that there are worse things out there than a lunatic wizard who likes the self-proclaimed title of 'dark lord'?”

“It just takes one small start, Master Elric, to turn into something even worse than your years could imagine,” Dumbledore said darkly. Edward closed his mouth, glaring at the man in pure hatred.

“I have seen a lot, my imagination is quite vast,” he growled.

“But even so, you still get surprised now and then,” Albus replied with a sharp glint in his eyes.

“What. Did. You, Take?” Edward breathed slowly. He punctuated every word to ensure that the man understood him. He didn’t want to go through these run-around conversations with him. He wanted to know what he was up to. “You already have me hung up on so many strings just for that stupid prophecy you're obsessed about. At least tell me what exactly you want me for. It might be a simple sacrifice to you for a man that has limitless time on this earth to give just a fraction of it for humanity, but it is a whole lot more complicated than that.”

“I know, Edward,” the old wizard said, using his first name for once instead of that proper gaudy title. His voice sounded old and tired. The man got up from his chair and rounded the desk he was sitting at, waving his wand at the cracked wood where Edward had hit it earlier. It mended itself and appeared that nothing had happened. “I know this is tough game to play, and I know you don’t like it. But I promise that everything will turn out right for you by the end of this year. It is just a year, so please make the best of it.”

“Just tell me what you took. I don’t want this backward talk.”

“It was all Minerva’s idea,” he admitted. “She saw you the other evening rather upset. It is a hard transition for you. You lived so long by yourself, Edward, we thought it best just to make you comfortable. It was honestly, from the concern of the faculty, that we made this trip for you. We hoped that you would have found it more comfortable here if you had some of your old things,” Albus told him. Edward closed his mouth as he listened to him explain. He felt the anger rush out of him as he remembered the other evening when the transfigurations professor had walked in on him talking to his brother. Was she really that worried for him? He shook his head. People don’t get worried for him. It just didn’t happen, especially not from wizards.

“Is it that hard to believe that people could care about you?” he heard the soft voice of Winry question. It held a tinge of sadness to it and Edward could feel that emotion seep into his heart. The fact was, it was hard to believe. What had all of these years done to him that he couldn’t even imagine someone outside of the stone being worried for his well-being? He could hear Helena’s voice scolding him earlier. Yet again, she was right.

“With him, it has to be more,” Edward argued in old tongue that he knew the headmaster couldn’t understand. “There is always more. It can’t be that simple.”

“We know,” Mustang’s deep voice rang, “ But for the sake of this evening, why not enlighten in the fact that it could be.”

“You don’t sound like the Mustang I know at all,” Edward grumbled under his breath at the man.

“Whatever Albus took, it doesn’t matter because you are still stuck here. Let it be for a little while. Prioritize your escape. You can find it once you are free.” Edward looked at Dumbledore who was waiting patiently there for his answer. He knew that the headmaster had more up his sleeve than he was letting on. He knew that he had taken something from his house that wasn’t accounted for. However, he also had a feeling that Minerva wasn’t the type of person for spy-worthy investigations. She was strict, and very conservative, but he didn’t think it was like her to steal for the sake of holding something over him. At least some of what Albus had to say was true. Roy was right. Being stuck there for a year, it didn’t matter much if he berated Albus for his strings, he was still stuck there.

“Fine,” Edward hissed as he glared at the headmaster. “But don’t imagine I will be leaving here without whatever you took.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the man said, honesty dripping from his voice making Edward know it was all a trick. He wondered just what the man had planned. He wondered what he had stolen. But for the simplicity of the evening, he turned and he left the office in peace. It has been so long since he felt someone care for him, even if it could all have been a lie. His stone heart seemed to crack a little bit with the feeling and Edward was very confused with this sensation. For now, at least, maybe it was better just to imagine that one of the professors cared for him at all.

………..

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 5

Old Faces

The next day Edward found himself walking down near the courtyard for a light stroll, his heart buzzing to get outside but then his mind knowing he couldn’t. The courtyard was filled with students, each of which gave them their own wary glances before continuing on their own way across the grass. Edward kept to the covered walkway because of this. As he made a few laps around the small cage, he found himself heading inside, his hopes of freedom severely dampened with a sigh. He passed down through the corridors, trying to free his mind from the stone walls. He remembered the castle all of those long years ago, when the walls stood new and the first generation of wizards had yet to graduate from it. He walked by the classrooms, naming off the old professors in his head and which ones helped and which ones just confused him all the more about magic. It took him forever to try and understand the art and now, having spent all that time understanding it, he didn’t use it.

“Brother,” Alphonse called to him quietly.

“Hmm,” he acknowledged half heartedly.

“ It isn’t so bad here.”

“I know,” he muttered sadly as he passed a statue of a later professor he never knew. A lot has happened since he was here last. Though Edward resented coming back, he knew that there was some good that came out of Hogwarts. It just wasn’t a lot. Edward passed a classroom door remembering how Professor Gryffindor used to teach transfigurations there. He was damn good at it but often scolded Edward for not wanting to partake in the magic. He didn’t talk to Professor Gryffindor enough but he remembered the one act of kindness the man gave him before he left. It, quite frankly, saved his life.

Edward poked his head into the classroom just for a second of reminiscing. It stood empty as there was no class in session that period. Edward walked in and looked up at the high ceiling and the tall windows that opened to the middle courtyard. Though his least favorite subject, he had to admit, it was one of his favorite classrooms. He used to sit at his desks and just stare out of the windows at the green grass, daydreaming about the hills of Resembool. He chuckled lightly. People always told him that homesickness would go away with time. It was quite the opposite. The more he spent away from Amestris, the stronger his desire became to return.

“Mr. Elric? What in the world are you doing in here?” he heard a curious voice behind him. Edward spun around to see the new transfigurations professor, Minerva McGonagall, standing there, a couple of scrolls of parchment in her hand. A sudden flush spread over his face as he realized he was caught wandering around in someone else’s classroom.

“Uh… umm, nothing. I was just… I was just… leaving,” he muttered as he made towards the door. She gave him a puzzled look as he passed.

“You know there is nothing wrong with just wanting to talk, Mr. Elric,” she said as he reached for the door. Edward found himself stopping, quite unsure of what made him do that. He glanced behind him to see the woman giving him a concerned look.  “I am going to make some tea, none of that divinations stuff either. You can join me or not, but I believe you look like you need a drink,” the woman scoffed lightly which made Edward smile just a little bit. It looked like she held the same opinion of divination as he did. Contemplating for just a split second, Edward found himself following the professor into the classroom. She pulled out a small teapot and started making a couple of cups. In less than a minute Edward found himself sitting across from her at her desk holding a steaming cup in his hands. He stared at the steam, entranced as it danced across the surface of the water and flittered away into the air.

“Mr. Elric-”

“Edward,” he interrupted quickly. She looked a little taken aback. He knew that the faculty knew that he was the Eastern Sage but it seemed that they didn’t know he was just a normal human… for the most part. “I… I like to be called Edward,” he mumbled into his cup as he took a sip.

“Edward, I wanted to actually talk to you. I know the faculty haven’t been on the most friendly terms, I included, and I would like to apologize for my intrusion the other day. It wasn’t my place to barge in,” she said stiffly like she wasn’t very keen on apologizing. But she seemed to know when one was needed. “This doesn’t mean anything in my opinion of your teaching skills though, mark my word.” Edward chuckled lightly. 

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have snapped either. It was just a difficult conversation, one that had to get through.”

“With your brother?” she asked curiously, the concept of him having a conversation with himself still confusing. Edward nodded his head.

“He took it as well as anyone could but it's been so long… what can you do?” he mumbled with a light shrug. She looked like she still didn’t understand anything about his brother but seemed to have the will to push it off for another day. There was a moment of silence and Edward shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt an urge from inside him to talk but he couldn’t really find the words he wanted to say. Yet he scrambled for them anyway. Helena was right, he really did forget how it felt to just sit down and talk with others. Without being on the run, without arguing or fighting, it was a different breed of conversation. He had forgotten that all interactions didn't have to be a confrontation. A weight on his chest was yearning to be set free. “I… wanted to thank you for…. well … for getting my things,” he started slowly. “It wasn’t expected. I appreciate it.” The professor smiled a little bit, surprised but nonetheless grateful for his statement.

“Even though we don’t know each other very well, I couldn’t imagine someone living with nothing,” the woman replied. They sat in the classroom, for a few silent minutes just enjoying their tea. It was quite a while before either of them spoke again. Edward found himself smiling lightly as he looked down into his tea cup. Now that he remembered, Professor Ravenclaw used to invite him to tea a lot after his studies. He always had so many questions for her, most of which were answered in the only way they could, with silence. The last time he had seen any of the founders it was in this room. At that point, he had grown so old, that there weren't many of them left. It was only Gryffindor and Slytherin who were there to say goodbye. Hogwarts protected him when he stayed inside the walls but it could not protect him from leaving. It was then that Professor Gryffindor gave him his sword to fight with in the Crusades as he was being called upon as a weapon. Though the sword gave him a fighting chance, it did nothing to help the fear. Edward could almost see the heaps of bodies on the battlefield. 

CRASH! The porcelain cup in his hand shattered beneath his automail and tea rained down on him. He quickly stood up exclaiming a light obscenity at the mess.

“Sorry,” he quickly muttered as he bent down and clapped his hands to fix the mug. He placed it quickly back on the table as he tried to clean up the mess.

“Your hand is bleeding!” McGonagall announced as she snatched his hand. There was a thin line of blood where the mug had cut his flesh hand.

“No, it’s not. I am fine-” he said as he pulled it back towards him. He grabbed a small napkin that the professor handed him and wiped the blood off gently. The cut, of course, was healed and there was no sign that he was ever hurt, to begin with. He knew what energy was used to heal his hand. Though small, those cuts build up. He cursed himself for being so reckless. Those were people's lives he was dealing with. He couldn’t risk them over such petty things. “See? I am fine,” Edward muttered sadly as he showed her his hand. “I am sorry. Sometimes I forget the strength of my own hand yah know? I was… remembering.”

“Remembering?” Minerva asked surprised.

“N-nothing. I think I should go. I am sorry about the mess,” Edward stumbled as he backed towards the door. He quickly turned around and with a quick pace moved out of the room without waiting to hear the professor’s complaints. He sped down the hallway a good distance from the disturbing memories and leaned against the wall, taking in a few slow breaths to calm his nerves.

“Brother, the Crusades are over. You aren’t going back there-”

“I know, I know,” Edward breathed as he held his head in his hands, trying to ground himself. It had been a few hundred years since he had seen King Arthur, and he was glad for the sake of that. But the memories still lingered longer and deeper than any scar he could ever sustain. There was a long period where Edward just stood there and regained his composure. After a little while though he heard the souls in the stone start to speak up again.

“Edward, you did good,” he heard Winry say.

“I felt like an idiot. I thanked her and just ran out of there,” Edward mumbled to himself as he sank to the stone floor. He tucked his knees to his chest and rested there for a few moments. He felt a swirl of compassion flow through him. He could almost picture Winry standing there talking to him, but he knew it wasn’t true. She was inside the stone like everyone else.

“ But at least you thanked her,” she noted, reminding him of the little steps of progress he was taking. He wasn’t used to socializing anymore. It stressed him out far more than it needed to and to have a flashback in the middle of it all, was doubly so. Yet Winry and everyone else were pushing him to make small steps. He was going to be stuck in the castle for a year. He might as well know the people he would be working with even if one of those faces included Dumbledore’s. Edward nodded his head dumbly, accepting the small victory even though it had come with a great cost.

“At least I had that,” Edward muttered.

……..

The weekend came and Edward woke up early Saturday morning. He was relieved to have a break from those annoying kids and relax a little bit. However, what he was going to do with his day, he hadn’t the slightest clue. It wasn’t like he could go outside. It wasn’t like he could really go anywhere. He had been chasing after Flamel for over 600 years. He didn’t know how to sit still anymore. Without a mission, or a destination, he was lost. Maybe class days were better, he thought. At least then he could push the fact that he was trapped inside the stone walls to the back of his mind. Now, the only thing he could think of was that there was nothing he could do to get out of there. He was trapped.

He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling for a long while, debating what to do. Would it even matter if he left his chambers or not? The souls in the stone urged him to get up but Edward tried to decide for that himself. Eventually, a growling in his stomach beckoned him out of bed to get ready for the day. He growled as he got dressed into his normal clothes, leaving the cape for a colder day. He had taken to wearing his muggle clothes which Minerva had retrieved for him when she went to pillage his house. He was grateful for that. He always felt better in a nice button-down shirt and slacks. It was more… relaxed. Wizards always knew how to overcomplicate clothing in an attempt to bedazzle their friends. Muggles were just simple, normal. By living a very complex life, he never wanted to overcomplicate the simple things.

After slipping his shoes on and braiding his hair, Edward decided to head down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He knew that few students would be up so early that morning so he decided to take a little longer route through the quad in hopes of some fresh air. It was similar to the courtyard in many ways except for the fact that it lacked a substantial amount of grass. Edward never really liked walking through it because it didn’t make him feel like he was outside at all. At least in the courtyard, he could imagine rolling hills. The quad was more ruff cut. However, for the sake of the morning, Edward ventured out into it. It was along his way to the Great Hall and he might as well try to waste some time his weekend held.

As he got a little way into the quad Edward heard some voices arguing across the way. They sounded angry from what he could tell and there sure were a lot of them. He peered across the yard to see a mash of green and red, all holding broomsticks for a game of quidditch. Quidditch started after Edward was at Hogwarts. He didn’t know much about the sport but one thing he knew, no matter how good the intentions, nothing good could come from a meeting with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. The history of their feud unfortunately had started with him.

‘What’s going on here?” Edward barked as he walked over to the gathering crowd. The oldest students from each team seemed to race to get over to him as if even that was a competition.

“Professor, I booked the quidditch field for the Gryffindor team to practice-”

“We have a note from the head of our house to train our new seeker,” the Slytherin student cut in nearly shoving the note in his face. Edward ripped it out of his hands and held it at an appropriate distance for reading. Sure enough, it had Snape’s loopy signature.

“New seeker?” Edward challenged lightly. The rest of the teams crowded around and a bright blond-haired boy in green robes stepped out. Draco Malfoy. Edward remembered him from class. “Aren’t you a bit young?” he questioned, comparing his age to the rest of the members of the team who all appeared to be fifth years or older.  

“Well, I see no problem with it. If Potter gets to join in his first year of school when he isn’t even allowed to own his own broom,” Malfoy muttered glaring across the way at the stated person. Harry seemed to return it with even more fervor. “Then I think it is alright for me to join and bring along a couple of gifts.” The kid slyly tilted his broom a bit to catch his attention to it. It worked. Edward noted that all of the Slytherin team seemed to have new unused brooms all the same style as Malfoys.

“At least none of the Gryffindors had to buy their way onto the team. They got on by talent,” he heard someone mutter under their breath just what he was thinking. Arguing picked up again and Edward tried his best to prevent the two teams from pummeling each other into the ground however it took one small word out of Draco’s mouth to send the entire quad into chaos. Mudblood. The Weasley twins launched themselves at the other team and Edward snatched them by the tails of their robes, hurdling them back to their side of the quad. Wood went after Flint and Edward shoved them back to their appropriate sides. However, it only took Ron Weasley’s single mistake to end the fighting where it had begun.

There was a loud bang as the kid pulled out what appeared to be a severely beaten chopstick but was really the remains of a spellotape-coated wand. Edward clapped his hands and slapped them to the pavement, a wall forming between the two teams. However, before it even finished forming, Edward realized that it wasn’t even needed. Either Ron was holding his wand backward or it was temperamental about its poor upkeep, but the spell that he intended to throw at Draco hit him instead. The kid was flung backward and the instant he hit the stone ground there was a pool of slugs pouring out of his mouth. Edward winced as he slowly clapped his hands and returned the stone back to normal.

The Slytherins erupted into an uproar of laughter and Edward chased them off with a wicked glare and an angry snarl. They scattered towards the Quidditch pitch but Edward snatched the collar of Draco’s robes before he could even take one step. There was no way he was going to let him get away.

“Sit, Stay,” he ordered stiffly as he planted the kid to the quad. He walked over to where the redhead upchucked another round of slimy slugs. It was repulsive but definitely not the worst thing he saw magic do. There was a little kid, another Gryffindor, who was snapping photos on a huge camera.

“Can you cure him, Harry? You can do it can’t you?” the kid asked excitedly. Edward ripped the camera out of his hands for a second just to give the Quidditch team some peace and quiet.

“It’s not an illness, you can’t cure it,” Edward sniped as he handed the kid back his camera, challenging him to take another picture. The child put it away quickly. “The best you can do is wait for it to stop.”

“How do you know it will stop professor?” Hermione asked, the deep worry flowing through her.

“He isn’t the first one to vomit slugs in Hogwarts,” Edward grumbled as he lifted the sick kid to his feet, handing him off to his friends. Harry and Hermione supported him but kept their distance lest they wanted to get coated in slugs. “Go to the groundskeeper, whoever that is. They should have some flesh-eating slug repellant.”

“That’s toxic!” The Weasely twins argued for the sake of their younger brother.

“I didn’t say eat it!” Edward retorted roughly. “Just take a few sniffs of it. The aroma will make the slugs come out faster.”

“Are you sure it will work?” Harry asked nervously.

“Of course I am sure!” Edward growled. “That’s what the groundskeeper had me do when I was in his state! Now get going! I am sure Ron doesn’t like the taste of them.” Harry and Hermione muttered about taking him to Hagrid’s hut and they started to haul their friend away. A trail of slugs followed him all the way out of the quad. Edward shivered. He remembered when he was in transfigurations. They were supposed to be turning slugs into pencils and it just backfired on him. Luckily he was just vomiting slugs and not writing utensils. That was the first time Edward willed himself enough to even try transfigurations, under Professor Gryffindor's pushing. The professor was rather impressed with how horribly wrong it went. The man never made him actually try another spell for the rest of the semester. Even after that Edward refused.

“Professor, what about our practice?” Wood asked, snapping Edward from his thoughts.

“Are there two goalposts?” Edward asked curiously. The red team looked at each other as if they didn’t know how to respond. How could their professor not know the setup of quidditch? They nodded their heads dumbly. “Then it’s settled. Gryffindor and Slytherin will share the field.” His answer was firm and the students were too nervous to challenge it so the rest of the Gryffindor team, minus their seeker, went to the field to finish what they started. When they cleared out Edward turned back to where Draco was still standing. The kid was either too obedient to sneak away or too scared of what Edward might do to him if he was caught. He bet for the latter.

“So, you are calling people mudblood now?” Edward asked as he strolled back over to where the green-robed student was standing. “Where did you learn that one?”

“Professor, it is just a name. I called her what she was,” Draco muttered under his breath, trying to defend himself.

“And why does having muggle parents make someone any different?”

“They are different though! Everything they do is different. Even you look like you are dressing like one of them. It’s degrading,” the kid retorted. Edward looked down at his clothes. In muggle standards, they were plain, nothing absurd about them, a simple button-down slacks and jacket. But that was the problem. They were too plain. Wizards enjoyed the fanciful and absurd which was something Edward never understood. He crossed his arms defiantly and stood taller so he towered over the student.

“And who says I am not one of them?” he asked stiffly. Draco frowned and looked absolutely confused. Edward leaned in and gave him an evil smirk as he stared him down. “I can destroy this castle with a clap of my hands. I am possibly one of the most powerful beings that walk this earth but don’t confuse power with magic. Because whoever says I am a wizard is in for a beating of their lifetime.” The kid paled making Edward’s grin just grow bigger. However, Draco was stubborn and seemed to shake his momentary fear and replace it with his usual arrogance. There was a long silence where the kid just glared at him. Edward knew that he couldn’t change his mind. It was pointless as this rivalry has been going on since he even got to that world. It was what held him in the witch trials, it was what sent him to the crusades. He was on the wrong side of both muggle and wizard persecutions. He knew that Malfoy wouldn’t change this. Edward shook his head wondering why he was trying.

“Is that it?” Draco complained, wanting to leave to go practice.

“Nope. Detention with me tonight,” Edward snapped. “If you are late I will make it the whole weekend. Now go practice. I am sure Snape made that note because you need it.” The kid turned red with the insult but quickly picked up his broom and sped off toward the quidditch field. Edward smirked to himself as he made his way in the opposite direction towards the Great Hall. He could hear light laughter within him from Mustang as if he couldn’t contain himself.

“ The look on his face was priceless,” the man chanted, laughing at how Edward nearly scared the shit out of his student.

“That was cruel,” Alphonse retorted plainly as if he didn’t expect any more or less from him. Edward shrugged.

“Hey, Equivalent exchange right? An insult for an insult.”

“ That’s not how it works brother you know it.” Edward rolled his eyes as he pushed the door to the Entrance Hall open. A few people scattered it but not many. Edward was hoping to find the Great Hall in a similar state so that he could enjoy his breakfast quietly in peace. He still didn’t like how the faculty nor the students looked at him. Maybe with it being the weekend, they wouldn’t be there in such high concentration. Edward made his way quietly into the hall and tried to keep his head down as a few of the wizards looked up at him with staring eyes. He sometimes wished that would turn invisible and just return to the quiet solitude he had been living in previously.

Edward turned into the Great Hall and noticed a few of the faculty members were sitting at the high table. A couple of students sat at bare tables and a few ghostly figures scattered around them. He made his way towards the table with the intent of grabbing a plate of food like he usually did and enjoying the peace of the morning by himself. He grabbed a plate from the table and started to fill it when he heard a sharp voice from behind him.

“Oh Edward, good you are here. You will be joining us for breakfast won’t you?” Minerva asked him as she approached the table with a light novel tucked underneath her arm. It appeared as if she had intended on enjoying that weekend too. With it being the start of the school year there wasn’t much work for the faculty to do since no exams or extensive papers were assigned.

“Uh… I wasn’t planning-” Edward stumbled as he glanced back at the table of Professors. Many of them looked wary of him. The groundskeeper, potions master, and even the history of magic professor who was in fact a ghost, were glancing at him nervously. It seemed that he wasn’t popular amongst them for various unknown reasons. However, amongst the wary faculty, there came a chipper voice in the form of the head of Hufflepuff house, Pomona Sprout.

“You are welcome to sit next to me if you like,” she said shifting down enough for him to take a seat. Edward stood there awkwardly holding his plate unsure whether to take her up on her offer.

“I… I-”

“Come on lad, it’s alright. We aren’t gonna bite. You healed my hands after all. You show more competency than some of us here!” the stout woman said pointedly, more towards Gilderoy than anything. Edward looked at the man but he seemed none the wiser as he sat at the end of the table soaking up the newspaper’s new print of his face. He found himself shuffling over to the seat and sitting down between the herbology and potion professors hesitantly. They looked to him as if waiting for him to start a conversation but he couldn’t find anything to talk about. He just sat there awkwardly, glancing between the professors.

“I saw you outside with the quidditch teams. Are you the reason why the Gryffindors are intruding on our field time?” Snape interrogated lightly, trying to start a conversation with him. Minerva gave a light ‘harumpf’ to the man’s statement as she was very defensive of her own team. Edward crossed his arms defiantly.

“Gryffindor booked the field first, the Slytherin team had your note. Apparently, there are two goalposts so they can share-”

“Six-”

“What?” Edward gasped nearly choking.

“There are six goalposts,” Pomona elaborated.

“Well there’s more than enough room then!” he exclaimed wondering why everyone thought there wasn’t enough room on the field.

“Do you really not know about Quidditch?” she asked.

“N-no. I heard of it. It’s a sport, right? It was made after my time here,” Edward answered honestly. The faculty paled, especially the history professor though his skin was already quite transparently silver to begin with.

“Merlin’s beard! Quidditch was made a sport in the 11th century!” Professor Binns exclaimed. Though he looked rather surprised, the emotion never reached his voice which remained as monotone as ever. Edward could foresee many students falling asleep in his class.

“Merlin didn’t have a beard,” Edward muttered under his breath, lightly confused. Why did this become an exclamatory saying, he would never know. The other professors didn’t hear him however and continued to discuss the game of Quidditch he was rather not interested in. He lightly poked at his breakfast, tuning out the talk of who was going to win the house cup that year. All of the heads of houses were rather competitive on the matter. He was feeling kind of pressured and wished Snape never brought it up. Suddenly the conversation died down a little as Flitwick’s attention was attracted elsewhere. It seemed that since Ravenclaw won the Quidditch cup the previous year, the professor was rather vocal on defending its rein. Edward kept his head down and just continued to poke at his food, hoping not to be pulled back into a lost trainwreck of a conversation.

“I was just floating by your classroom, Professor Flitwick, and I thought I heard Peeves running amuck! Do you know where I could find the Baron at this hour? He seems to have gone….,” the newcomer started but seemed to stop as something else caught his attention. “By God, it can’t be… Paracelsus? Is that really you?” Edward heard an old familiar voice say. His entire body froze as he turned around and came face to face with a ghost of his past… literally.

“ Nick?! ” Edward said in disbelief as he saw the ghost of his old friend floating next to him, a little way down the table where the charms professor was. The man was pale, completely transparent but didn’t seem to change from the last day Edward had seen him, his execution. Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was a young wizard who spent most of his time in the muggle community. He frequently visited Edward in his study at Oxford University as Nicholas himself wanted to learn more about muggles and their lives. Edward often warned the foolish wizard that he wasn’t a muggle or a wizard but they still managed to become better friends in their individual studies. Unfortunately, though Nick loved muggles, he was a horrible spell caster and landed himself on the chopping block from a simple mistake.

“I… Nick I haven’t seen you in ages! The last time I saw you-”

“45 chops to the neck definitely wasn’t the best last image of me I can tell,” the ghost replied in his old cheery tone.

“The best image? Now you’re exaggerating,” Edward said sarcastically making the man laugh.

“Same old Paracelsus. It is like you never changed-”

“Well I didn’t really,” Edward said motioning towards himself. He looked exactly the same as he did when he met Nicholas let alone coming to that world. “But I haven’t been called that in years. It’s Edward… my real name,” Edward admitted. Nicholas looked rather amused.

“And just when I thought I knew everything about you, my old friend,” the man chuckled. “You always did know how to surprise people.”

“Call it the Elric charm,” Edward muttered, hearing the souls inside of him snickering with response.

“Edward,” the stiff voice of Minerva called out. Edward turned slightly to glance across the table at her. “You know Sir Nick?”

“Of course I do!” Edward retorted as if the thought of him not was blasphemous. “We went to University together! I went to study physics and history but Nicholas was studying me!”

“It was my muggle studies! And let me say he was the most interesting of them all!” Nicholas retorted trying to defend himself. Minerva gave a light chortle of amusement and disbelief but she seemed nonetheless ecstatic about the revelation. There was a slight murmur that rose up amongst the table and Nick took Edward aside away from the light commotion. His ghostly hand accidentally floated through him and Edward felt a huge shiver run through his back as if he was plunged into a bucket of ice. A quick feeling of sadness flew through him as he realized that, though he found his old friend, he wasn’t technically still there with him. The man was still dead.

“How on Earth did you ever get stuck back here, Edward?” the man asked, obviously very curious as to where he was the entire time.

“It is a very long story-”

“That was your answer to nearly everything, my friend, but now that it seems that both of us won’t run out of time this time around, would you like to talk?” Nicholas stated, his silver eyes twinkling happily. Edward looked up at him where he floated lightly above the ground. He was one of his best friends he met on that side of the gate. He was the last person he really talked to before he decided to try and forget about the world. When Porpington died, he holed himself up in Siberia like a hermit until Nicolas Flamel came along and found him. Edward found himself smiling lightly at Nicholas’s invitation because it was the first one he had in a long time. A talk amongst friends. He thought it was about time the two of them got caught up.

……………...

Minerva watched the Eastern Sage walk out of the Great Hall with a figure from the man’s past, Nearly Headless Nick. She couldn’t help but a light smile pull on her lips as she noted, for the first time, a truly happy grin on the new professor’s face. She didn’t know him for long. The school year was just bridging past its first week but she still didn’t know someone could go for so long without even finding some joy in something.

The case of Edward Elric really bewildered her. For someone so young to be burdened with living forever… she didn’t know how he did it. And she feared for what his life had brought him, for it was apparent, even to her, that he hadn’t quite left all aspects of it behind. Going to his house, Minerva saw what skeletons hid in his closet though the full story was far from revealed. He was struggling and even simple conversation seemed difficult for him to manage. The Eastern Sage was a different person who lived a different life than the rest of them. Edward was not ready to teach and it didn’t look like he wanted to. How, or even why Dumbledore wrangled him into staying at Hogwarts that year was beyond her but it seemed that the headmaster was tangled in the Sage’s affairs more than anyone wise should be.

“What are you smiling at?” she heard Severus’ voice drawl beside her. It looked like he had gotten up from where he was seated to get some more eggs for his breakfast plate, but she knew it was just like the head of Slytherin to butt in where he was not wanted.

“Nothing,” she said tartly as she picked up her tea and took a sip.

“He isn’t a teenager you know-”

“I damn well know that! He’s ancient!” she snipped bitterly at the man. Severus frowned as he took a seat next to her. Their voices were low so as to not disturb the rest of the hall.

“I would advise you not to wander too deep into the Sage’s affairs-”

“And I would advise you that I am a good few years older than you and know how to make my own impressions of people!” she scolded him. “I don’t know what you have against the man, but he is a professor at this school, and as barbaric as his teaching methods are he should be treated with respect as any professor should be.” There was sudden laughter from down the table and Minerva glanced past the potion’s master to see Gilderoy chuckling wholeheartedly at something that no one else found particularly funny. Rolling her eyes she muttered, “Well the respect that most professors should get.”

“You saw what he had in his house, Minerva. He possesses the stone and knows an art all wizards who tried to learn seemed to not be able to wield. I would imagine you know what he is capable of-”

“All of us are capable of many things, Severus. I suppose you should remember that when you talk to me next or else I might just have to remind you,” she huffed as she stood up and excused herself from the table. She picked up the book she had brought with her and quickly left the Great Hall and Severus behind her. A bloom of aggravation filled her as she stormed through the castle towards her classroom.

“That man is too paranoid,” she growled under her breath. She knew he was rightfully so. He was just taking in what he knew and applying it logically, but there was still nothing on Elric’s personality that screamed out danger to her. Minerva remembered the bloody sword that they found in his house. Surely it couldn’t have gotten that way by delightful means of confrontation. The sword was a weapon, used to kill, but also defend she reminded herself. Minerva didn’t know Godric personally, Elric surely seemed he did, but if her experience in Gryffindor taught her anything, a sword wasn’t given to just anyone. Whatever Edward had to do or did in the past, if Godric gave him the sword, he was a Gryffindor in her book even though he hailed from the Ravenclaw house by the sorting hat.

Minerva entered her classroom and walked over to the windows to open them up. It was deathly hot in there for the end of summer and even though the stone of the castle usually kept the building cool, it sometimes still wasn’t enough. As she cracked the window open she heard the sudden sound of laughter. It was still fairly early in the morning and she doubted that many of the students were thinking of getting up anytime soon. For them to be rambunctiously laughing, there must have been something going on, possibly the Weasley twins. She poked her head out of the window determined to catch them in the act of their mischief but froze as she caught sight of Sir Nick floating out in the courtyard. He glowed lightly in the shade with his normal ghostly appearance but beside him, a golden head stood out bright as the sun which had not yet scaled the wall of the courtyard. It was Edward. He was grabbing his belly laughing at something Nicholas must have said. Though dead, Minerva knew his sense of humor to be far from it. The sound of his laughter made the smile that Severus took away from her come back lightly. Though Edward was a strange man, he was no stranger to Hogwarts, and Minerva was determined not to make him one.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Easter Sage

Chapter 6

Voices in the Wall

Edward gently rubbed the oil cloth over his arm, trying to get a decent layer of lubricant down in his joints. It had only been with the stone that he tried to keep up with his maintenance because if he didn’t there was no possible way of getting away from Winry’s yelling. She might not have been able to throw wrenches, but that didn’t mean she still couldn’t be a pain in the-

“If you even finish that statement the next time you break your arm I am going to throw that at you,” Winry scolded him, gritting her aggravation out through her teeth.

“Who says I will break it again?” he retorted dumbly just for nearly half of the stone’s residences to put in a convicting word all at once. He groaned as he tried to cover his ears at their sudden volume even though he knew it was no use. The sound was coming from inside him. He couldn’t block it out normally. “Fine I get it,” he growled as he hushed the voices up and returned to his arm.

“Don’t forget the shoulder-”

“Shut up,” Edward snipped wanting in all of his might to throw the oil cloth at the woman for her nagging. It has been going on longer than he had wanted. Winry noticed his arm stiff up when he was talking to Sir Nick earlier that day. She told him that if he didn’t oil it he was going to lose it. However, he thought, a short delay for the sake of his friend wasn’t a loss at all. He had no clue that Nick was a ghost and he was even more baffled that he chose Hogwarts out of all places to haunt. It was a coincidence that Edward was grateful for, because if he chose anywhere else to haunt he would be teaching the entire year without a familiar face.

“Helena’s a familiar face,” Alphonse reminded him and Edward rolled his eyes making a rather rude sound as he scoffed at the idea.

“That’s one face I wish was not,” he grumbled as he put another drop of oil on his cloth. He noticed some light rusting on some of the wires and sighed as he lifted his arm up for closer inspection. It must have been caused by the rainy European weather he suffered through when chasing down Flamel. He sighed lightly as he scraped the orange soot off and coated the metal with a good layer of oil. He wouldn’t need to worry much about rust now since he was stuck inside out of the weather. Edward continued to work until he heard a knock on his classroom door. He looked up to see Draco standing in the doorway, waiting to be acknowledged, and that is what Edward did.

“You are late,” he scolded and the young Slytherin shuffled his way in, a guilty look on his face.

“I was caught up by Professor-”

“You forgot. Don’t lie to me,” Edward sighed as he returned his gaze to his work. He knew full well what the boy was doing. He was hanging with his two halfwit friends, spreading new rumors and complaints about him. He had passed them silently in the corridor when he went to the supply closet for a bottle of oil just a half hour ago when the detention was already scheduled. “Sit over there and shut up until I decide on what to do with you now that you are here,” Edward ordered as he threw his rag down on the desk and clapped his hands, transmuting a screw driver from the floor. He wasn’t knowledgeable enough to do mechanical maintenance, but he did know how to remove the forearm plating so he could clean underneath. Dirt absolutely loved to hide in all the nooks and crannies of his automail and underneath the plating was always the worse. He heard Winry’s exasperated cry as he started to scrub at it. As he worked he didn’t have to look up to see that his student was staring at him.

“The fact that you are looking means that you are curious as to why I have metal limbs,” Edward muttered as he continued his work. “The simple answer is that I lost them.”

“What’s the complex answer, professor?” the boy asked simply. Edward looked up and saw the innocent expression across his face. For a kid who was openly against the mixing of muggles and wizards to the point that he called his fellow classmate a mudblood, he was very curious on muggle inventions and endeavors. The wizarding world was not at all advanced in their prosthesis because it was rare to have an amputation that couldn’t be magically fixed. Only dark curses could really cause a permanent loss of a limb. Edward, when his leg broke ages before muggle technology was to par of good repairs, had to suffer through their use for a long time.

“The complex answer is exactly why you are not going to be learning alchemy till you figure out the laws,” he replied coolly. “By the way this class is going so far, I believe you will never know.” Draco frowned and crossed his arms, slouching in his seat with disappointment. Edward smirked.

“What am I going to do with you?” Edward hummed, focusing on a specific spot on his elbow joint. “You didn’t figure out the first law yet, so I can’t do anything alchemy related. That wouldn’t end well for anyone. Why don’t we do a punishment suitable for the crime, eh?”

“What crime? All I had was an opinion. I don’t see any problem with that,” Draco retorted.

“You are right about that. I can’t give detentions just because I disagree with someone’s opinion, but I can give detentions to those who act wrongly on it. Calling someone Mudblood is harassment by any book,” Edward stated simply. He knew everyone was entitled to their opinion but like he said before, he might not be able to correct the person, but he could correct their actions.

“In order to watch your language you are going to spend this detention not using it. If I hear a peep from you I will come up with some silly punishment for you,” Edward told him. “This could have been a very exciting detention for me however I have some maintenance to take care of-”

“But professor-”

“Push ups.”

“What?” Draco asked, confused as to what he meant.

“I wasn’t joking about silly punishments. You just talked. I honestly thought you would last longer than that. Do fifteen pushups and shut up,” Edward snipped quickly as he picked up the oil rag again.

“A… You can’t make me do that muggle stuff! Punishment is not-”

“I am not touching you am I?” Edward retorted half mindedly. “I am just sitting here, giving a rather very strong suggestion to do fifteen pushups and then to close your mouth.”

“But-”

“Trust me. Doing push ups won’t kill you, just make you stronger. In a way, this is benefitting you more than me,” he told him. There was a long moment of silence and Edward thought he took his advice to not talk but the kid was just slouching in his seat with a concentrated look on his face. Edward set down his oil rag and gave the kid a disbelieving stare.

“You don’t know what a push up is do you?” he stated the obvious. It looked like the kid wanted to retort but Edward just rolled his eyes and threw the oil rag on his desk. His forearm plate was still off but that didn’t affect the function. He stood up and rounded the desk. “Come on get up. I am going to teach you-”

“I am not doing any muggle work-”

“Yes you are if I have anything to say about it. Get up now,” he ordered him. The kid groaned and reluctantly stood up from the desk. Edward motioned for him to stand next to him. “Okay get down like this-” he said, getting down into the front leaning rest position.

“I am not getting down on the ground-”

“Just do it,” Edward groaned. Draco hesitantly copied him. “Now all you do is go down and push yourself back up like this,” he instructed doing a simple push up for the sake of his students observation. “That is one.” Draco tried to copy him but he was struggling. Managing to do one, he rested his knees on the ground.

“That is stupid. Why do they do this?” he complained.

“To get arms like this,” Edward chuckled rolling up his left sleeve to show his student his arm. “It helps build strength in your arms but also discipline. You wizards have your own ways of keeping fit, but they don’t really deal with actual focus like this. To train the mind you must first train the body. If you want to get more focused on things try doing simple work outs like this. They can be fun, but for now they are punishment. So finish your fifteen and I will finish my maintenance. After that, we will see what else this detention has in store for us.” Edward stood up and walked back to his desk to put his plate back on his arm. He heard Draco struggling to do a couple more pushups on his own. Frankly he was amazed that he was still determined to do it. The kid managed to do fifteen by the time Edward had screwed on his arm plate and then rolled up his pants to work on his leg. Draco was currently sitting at his desk quietly as he was instructed to do previously to avoid more pushups. He noticed how the boy was rather interested in his automail. It looked like he was bursting at the seams with questions but he knew that if he talked he would just do more work. Luckily for Edward, he couldn’t stay silent for long.

“How do they work in Hogwarts if there are wards blocking out electricity?” Draco asked.

“Twenty sit ups,” Edward said flatly to the kid’s disappointment. “Do you know what those are?” Edward asked him. Draco shook his head. He sighed as he got up from his desk again and motioned him to sit down on the ground. Without question this time, he did. Wizards tended to stay fit because their lifestyle was more physical work than the muggle’s. Edward was amazed at how the wizards were able to stay in an earlier century rather than adapt to muggle inventions that made life more stationary. However, wizards were never ones for mingling.

“Alright lay back like this, put your hands behind your head, and then sit up,” Edward instructed, going through the motion. Draco copied, not very gracefully but he managed. Edward sat back and watched Draco finish his set, giving him little advise here and there.

“The reason why my limbs are able to work is because they aren’t electrical. They are powered by my body’s nervous system. They are connected straight to my nerves,” he explained, deciding to satisfy his question. It looked like Draco wanted to ask more but after struggling to do the sit ups he thought better. They suddenly heard the door swing open with a bash as it hit the wall. A rather excited Gilderoy Lockhart entered the room with a swish of his overly obnoxious robes, a meek and rather annoyed looking Harry following behind him. Lockhart looked rather confused as to why they were on the floor but ignored it like he always did best.

“Edward! You must have forgot about our meeting! Remember we scheduled it for Saturday evening?” the man said with a cheerful gleam in his eye. Edward glared at him, any amount of peace for the evening seeping out of him.

“I didn’t forget, Gilderoy. Quite the opposite,” he growled as he tried his best to disregard the man. He stood up, helping Draco up off the floor with him, before heading back to his desk where he left his cleaning kit. The professor strode across the room and met him there with a pout on his face.

“Remember, this attitude is exactly the reason we are having this chat this evening-”

“I am giving detention,” Edward said stiffly.

“Well you can give it in my classroom. Harry is serving detention with me. We were just opening some fan mail I was sent-”

“I am cleaning my leg-”

“You are-” the man stuttered as he looked down. It looked like he just noticed Edward’s metal leg sticking out of his pants. He looked rather uncomfortable staring at it. “Oh.. um… Can you do that in my classroom?” he asked questionably. Edward didn’t know what was his problem. He did nothing to hide his arm that whole week. Everyone knew that he had a metal arm, though his leg was always hidden beneath his pants. He guessed that Gilderoy thought that his metal parts were just some estranged fashion sense. Edward stared him straight in eye, very unamused.

“I don’t want to.”

“Well even though you might not want to, it is respectable to listen to your elder-”

“I am older than you. How many times do I have to say this for it to get through your thick skull?!” Edward yelled at him. “I am older than you not by just a couple years, but nearly a millenia!” Gilderoy chuckled as if he found something particularly funny with what he said. He laid an arm around his shoulder and not too gently started to guide him towards the door. Edward tried to push him off but his hands were like claws digging into his shoulder.

“I know I might be intimidating to you, so successful at a young age, it might make you want to try and be better. But don’t go making up ludicrous lies about it. No one would believe you. But have no fear, eventually with hard work you get my level in just a few years!” the man said light heartedly, gloating more about his own success than Edward’s youthful potential. Edward heard Alphonse and Mustang laughing their asses off inside the stone. Before he knew it he was inside Gilderoy’s classroom looking at a giant pile of letters towering on the man’s desk. A few of them appeared to be opened, probably more of Harry’s hard work than Gilderoy’s. He glanced behind him to see the two students following them into the room. They weren’t looking at each other but they both wore the same face of damnation. Neither wanted to be there especially with each other.

“Alright, since it looks like we will be spending detention here let us get started! I have a lot of mail to get through and I would hate to disappoint my fans! Harry we should pick up where we left off. You there,” Gilderoy said, pointing to Draco, “you can help him addressing the envelopes. Edward, my young fellow, you will help me open these letters and get them off of my desk.”

Edward didn’t care to hide his audible groan as they all gathered around the paper covered desk.

“How is this supposed to ‘help’ me?” Edward growled. Gilderoy picked up a few letters and set them off to the side.

“Replying to mail shows respect that one has for their fans-”

“I don’t get mail.”

“Why, everyone gets mail-”

“Not me.”

“Professor, how do you keep in touch with everyone then?” Draco asked.

“I have no one to keep in contact with.”

“What about your family?” Harry added curiously. Edward frowned as he picked up a small pile of letters and pretended to shift through them.

“Let’s just say my family is in no state to send letters,” he mumbled. There was a silence that hung over the room for a short while and just seemed to stick there. Under light instruction from Gilderoy, the students continued their work.  Edward tried to join them, but he didn’t get far. He opened a letter addressed to the one and only Gilderoy and didn’t even read the first line before he threw it down on the floor. It was something sappy about how the man made all this witch’s dreams come true. Gilderoy looked over the desk curiously.

“What was that?”

“It was a bill. Junk mail. Nothing important,” Edward retorted plainly as he threw another one down. He opened another letter and exclaimed, “Oh wow, a coupon for Flourish and Blotts for the school year. It’s a whole 5% off,” he lied terribly as the threw another love letter down on the floor.

“Really?”

“No,” Edward answered flatly as he blindly just dumped another pile of letters on the floor. Gilderoy seemed to catch his sarcasm and frowned lightly but said nothing else to him. Deciding to use his time wisely he kicked his leg up on the desk to finish his work on his automail. Though he didn’t have his oil rag he could at least clean it then instead of opening boring letter. There was a loud thwump as his metal leg came to rest and a ton of letters scattered everywhere like confetti. Edward transmuted another screwdriver and started to take off his shin plate off. He scrubbed lightly around the edges and set the plate off to the side to oil later. It was simple busy work to pass the time. As he scrubbed away the last of the dirt Edward heard a rather low voice whisper in his ear.

“Erressto ska…..Erressto ska ske iass shishkeas.”

Edward whipped his head around to find whoever said that but he only came up with nothing. Gilderoy was chatting lightly to Harry about his latest success and Edward quickly ordered him to shut up. The man closed his mouth and the room was plunged back into silence.

“Erressto ska ske iass shishkeas!” Edward heard the voice chant more angrily. It sounded deadly… strangely cold blooded.

“Professor, do you hear that?” Harry asked again. Edward turned to the kid eyes wide as he saw Harry look around for the source of the haunting voice like he was. He looked confused and slightly ruffled as the voice was not giving off a good message. He felt all of the warmth run out of him.

“Yes,” Edward felt himself whisper. Draco and Gilderoy looked at them like they were crazy.  But Harry looked relieved as he wasn’t the only one. Edward quickly stood up nearly knocking over his chair on accident. He caught it clumsily and set it upright, his hands trembling like someone was holding him to a burner. He heard farther whispers of the voice down the corridor and Edward realised it was moving. Without an explanation he sped out of the room and down the hall. He heard the voice repeating a similar message over and over again. It sounded hungry. He ran down the halls, twisting around the corners until found the voice suddenly disappearing into no particular direction. He looked around, listened hard for another sign of it but the voice simply vanished. Edward was panting from his sprint and yet he still felt his hands shaking from the fright.

“Brother, what was that?” Alphonse asked him quietly, a little scare from feeling the adrenaline inside of him. Strong emotions affected everyone in the stone and Edward was on the verge of terrified. He tried to catch his breath as he searched desperately for the source of the voice as if it was still around. With his lack of reply, his brother urged him on.

"Brother? What-"

"A snake… it was a snake," he gasped, the fear very evident in the shake of his voice.

……

"Listen. Just close your eyes and listen," the smooth voice of Professor Slytherin said to him calmly. He was pacing the room behind where Edward sat for his lesson in the cold dark dungeons of Hogwarts. Edward was terrified of the dungeons and had begged the Professor to take their lesson upstairs but the man didn't have it. He just gave him a strong calming potion and sent him down to his classroom. With his nerves forced to be at rest, Edward's body couldn't even rationalize the fear his mind was stirring up as he stared straight into the eyes of  a giant boom slang. As much as his mind was telling him to run away from the venomous creature, his body was in a calm lull and wouldn't move.

Edward tried to take his teacher's lesson in mind and he closed his eyes blocking the snake from his view. The dungeons were silent as the evening had sent all of the other students to bed and the only thing Edward could hear was the light tapping of Slytherin's pacing and the soft hiss of the snake in front of him.

"Focus on the snake. Try to hear what it is telling you." Edward forced himself to tune out the man's pacing and even the beating of his own heart as he listened to the dull hiss of the snake. It sounded like a humming that held no pattern, only a tune that would put one to sleep if they listened to it for too long. Edward thought it was going to be another wasted hour of hearing nothing but then he heard a break in the pattern of the snake's voice. Syllables, sounded themselves out into words and sentences.

'Eeh sto ska eustae," the boomslang hissed between the flicker of its tongue. Edward's eyes opened in shock as he heard it. He nearly fell off of the stool he was perched on and the Professor knew at that moment that he finally understood the lesson.

"What did it say?" Slytherin asked him calmly though Edward could see the hungry excitement in his teacher's eyes. This man had been waiting years for this moment. Every lesson he had with him on Parseltongue and Ophidiology seemed to be going nowhere until that moment.

"I…. I don't know. It was in another language but…. I heard it," Edward told him. The Professor frowned a little, his cold green eyes suddenly losing their hope in exchange for disappointment.

"Try again," he simply ordered. He set his thin hands on Edward's shoulders and set him back down in the chair that he came from. "We can make a Slytherin of you yet. Listen closer."

……..

“A snake?” Mustang asked as Edward continued to search the hallway for any sign of the creature. He nodded his head in reply, too preoccupied with the latest disturbance. “I thought you couldn’t speak Parseltongue-”

“I can’t! I can’t speak it. Never got the hang of it no matter how many times Professor Slytherin tried but… I can hear them. This one… this one had to be huge but-”

“It’s not here,” Alphonse stated the obvious. Edward had learned a lot about snakes with his lessons from Professor Slytherin but the language still evaded him. One thing that stuck though was that snakes tended to whisper. One had to be right next to them to really hear what they were saying but Edward had heard that one plain as day and yet still couldn't see where it was. The snake had to be massive, a monster. Edward let his head fall into his hands. He massaged it lightly, trying to make himself calm down. His nerves were rattled from the frightening sound of the snake’s voice. It sounded like it wanted to kill.

 “Brother, you are tired. Maybe it was your imagination. You have been having flashbacks recently… it might be from-”

“No. This wasn’t one. Harry heard it too. It’s not part of my imagination-”

“Maybe it’s outside? It could have been on the roof or the walls," Alphonse suggested trying to get to the bottom of this mystery. Edward staggered over to the window. He looked outside into the dark green of the castle lawn. The forest hung over the perimeter of the yard, casting a dark glooming shadow over the terrain. Edward felt chills run down his spine as he looked at it but there was no form of life except for the small lights on the Groundskeeper's hut glowing gently in the night. He shook his head.

“Well, if that was the case… it’s not here now,” he muttered, still searching desperately for answers. “I need to know what it said-”

“Harry heard it. You could ask him-”

“He’s too young. It took me 16 years even to get the hang of listening to them. I doubt he could speak it. It isn’t like it is a popular language to begin with. How does he know it at all, that’s my question-” he started but suddenly felt something scuttle across the back of his hand where it was resting on the window sill. He pulled back suddenly on reflex and looked down to see a line of spiders trickling across the window sill and escaping to the outside. It wasn’t just a few, but a whole solitary line of spiders following each other one by one to freedom.

“What the-” Edward muttered as he leaned in closer.

“Freaky,” Alphonse added as they watched the spiders.

“Professor!” a young voice called out behind him. Edward looked over his shoulder to see Harry running down the corridor towards him. He was carrying something shiny in his hands and it took Edward a closer inspection to notice that it was his shin plate for his automail. “Professor, you left this in the classroom.” He looked down at his leg to see his pants were still rolled up and wires were hanging out of his automail. He growled to himself as he held out his hand for it, taking it rather grumpily from the student’s grasp. Harry handed him the screw driver he transmuted in the classroom too and Edward bent down to quickly attach it again.

“Thanks,” he muttered to the kid roughly. There was a short silence as Edward screwed the plate back on and rolled his pant leg back down, straightening himself out. He looked up to see Harry shifting a little nervously around as if he had a question. Students there didn’t seem to hold their confidence in his presence.

“You didn’t run down the corridor for just my plate. You wanted to ask me about the voice didn’t you?” Edward asked him, knowingly. Harry nodded his head.

“Yes. Why couldn’t anyone else hear it, Professor. Why could only-”

“Have you ever had any… strange occurrences with snakes… or reptiles at all?” Edward interrupted him quickly. Harry looked a little taken back and he pushed his round glasses a little farther up on his nose as he thought about it.

“Not… really… well, there was this one time where I accidentally released a snake on my cousin Dudley at the zoo. But that was an accident. It was telling me that it wanted to go home and-”

“So when you heard the voice tonight you actually heard words, like english words?”

“Y-yes… didn’t you?” Harry asked confused. Edward shook his head.

“No, Harry, I didn’t. Do you mind telling me what it said?” The kid scrunched his nose as he tried to remember what the horrifying voice had told him. Edward was surprised that Harry could hear the voice at all let alone understand it. Parseltongue was a near dead language at that point. For a twelve year old boy to be able to hear it and not even know he could do it was a strange coincidence that Edward didn't like.

“Follow me… uh… body for my master?” Harry said hesitantly. “I don’t remember very well but it wanted something to follow-”

“It's luring someone,” Edward whispered silently to himself, a horrible realisation settling in his stomach. He needed to tell Dumbledore about this. Whatever it was, he was sure the students were not safe in the walls of the castle. With a sudden snap of his fingers he spun around and pointed to Harry. “Off to bed, now. If you hear any stranger noises go in the opposite direction until otherwise noted by me.”

“But Professor, what is it?” Harry asked him as Edward started off back down the corridor his own way. He needed to make yet another stop by the headmaster’s office before the night was through.

“I don’t know. But nothing good.”

………..

“That bastard! Is that his excuse for everything?” Edward raged as he stormed around his chambers in an absolute fury. The bath was running hot water as ordered by Winry. Edward knew she was just trying to get him to relax but after his talk with Dumbledore he didn’t think that was possible. “The castle is safe enough. It’s all in your head,” he mocked heavily. “What a bunch of-”

“If you think of it. It is kind of crazy hearing voices in your head,” Winry interrupted quickly. “When people already know you talk to yourself you lose credibility.”

“I am talking to you,” he argued, running his hands through his bangs angrily.

“They don’t know we exist. They don’t know we hold consciousness,” she reminded him sadly. “The only time they see us is when we are bound to armor. So far Dumbledore and Severus only saw Alphonse, and Roy was only witnessed being bonded by three students who couldn’t know any different. Though he walked around, they don’t know where he came from.”

“It is a rather closed circle Brother, and even then they don’t know the extent of what we can do,” Alphonse added in.

“But hearing you guys isn’t like hearing… that!” Edward retorted, turning off the water when he realised it was nearly overflowing from the clawfoot bathtub. “Harry heard it too. That should have been enough for the old bat whose only obsession is with the kid! If he wants to keep him safe they should evacuate the school. Whatever that thing was it might come back-”

“Brother we can’t leave the school even if we wanted to,” Alphonse replied.

“Well if they gave us the bloody counterspell we damn well could!” Edward yelled to the ceiling as if it would obey his demand. “I don’t want anything to do with magic but I would cast it myself if I just had my wand-”

“Why not steal a student’s? That’s what I would do,” Mustang told him.

“You damn well know that won’t work. Remember the last time I used someone else’s wand?” Edward shivered remembering how he even got his first wand. On his trip to Ollivanders he blew up the entire shop. Not even the foundation remained. They had to take what wands were left and have him practice out in an open field where casualties resulted could only be counted on a single hand. “I doubt students have strong enough wands to contain all this energy. The only one that could possibly work would be Dumbledores and he watches it like a hawk. I would never get it. Even if I do, there is still a high chance I might just level the castle.”

He sighed tiredly as he shrugged off his robe and slipped into the tub. Steam was rising from the surface of the water and its warmth felt good around the ports of his automail. He let out a deep moan as he felt all the pain in his body simply wash away. The Scottish air didn’t suit him. He would get sick before he knew it especially with the temperamental weather.

“I just don’t understand what Dumbledore is trying to accomplish. It is like he wants Harry to get killed.”

“You sound like you like the kid-” Winry teased him.

“I do not!” Edward retorted quickly. “He’s an annoying brat just like all of the others. Being a prophecy makes him no different than the rest of those martyrish snobs. But that’s no reason to get him killed.” He huffed to himself as he picked up a sponge from the edge of the tub and doused it into the water. He just watched it soak up the moisture and squeezed its drenched foam lightly, not really focusing on the motion at all, just feeling it between his fingers. “I just…. I might be  a bitter old man but I don’t like playing with other people’s lives. Dumbledore’s already got me tied up I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt because of it,” he muttered. “That snake wanted someone to follow it. With me having the stone, whatever its intentions were most likely pointed towards me and they weren’t good. Hell, if Dumbledore did evacuate the school and left me to die here at least I would know they were safe. But he only plays below the board, never on it.”

“I wouldn’t call you a bitter old man,” Winry chuckled lightly. Edward could almost imagine the soft compassionate smile on her face with how softly she said that. “With those words, I don’t think you’re there yet.”

“Shut up,” Edward said halfheartedly, a small smile forming on his own lips. “I can be bitter if I want to.”

…….

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room watching Hermione pace back and forth before the warm fireplace. Ron was trying to figure out a way to try and open a particular chocolate frog package that was being rather difficult. He had just told them about the strange voice that he heard and Ron had dismissed it. Hermione was rather worried and couldn’t seem to stop pacing. However, the crinkling of the chocolate frog box was getting the better of her and she eventually bursted out on him.

“Ron! This is serious! Stop meddling around with a box of chocolates and help Harry! You already have all of the cards!” she scolded him. Ron looked up at her as if she spoke blasphemy. He dropped the box to his lap and glared at her as if she just didn’t understand the importance of his collection.

“Almost all of them. I just need one more to finish it! If I can just get Paracelsus I will probably be the first wizard at Hogwarts to have all of the cards-”

“We are talking about Harry not some stupid cards!” she retorted.

“Look Harry,” Ron said turning towards him with a look that said he really didn’t want to listen to this. “I know we defeated YouKnowWho last year, and that’s great, but can we please have a normal school year this time?”

“It isn’t like I am choosing to hear voices!” Harry exclaimed. “If I couldn’t that would be fine with me. But the Professor heard them too and they weren’t saying anything good.”

“Professor Elric talks to himself. He probably hears voices in his head all the time-”

“And Harry then?” Hermione challenged. Ron opened his mouth to give a logical answer but closed it after a moment of thought.

“Good point,” he muttered. Harry understood his reluctance to admit something was going on in the school because Ron got hurt pretty badly last year when they went to find the stone. He guessed that if it could be avoided he didn’t want to get hurt again. “So what about these voices? What are they?”

“I don’t know. It seemed the Professor knew though. He ran after it but said he couldn’t understand it. It was in english, how couldn’t he understand it?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know. It is rather odd, a voice only you two can hear? This isn’t good,” Hermione told him. “You should talk to someone about this-”

“And be called a loonie?” Ron announced. “Harry if you say you hear voices no one else can they will call you crazy just like Professor Elric.”

“You can talk to him about it,” Hermione suggested. “Since he seems to know about it-”

“I tried but… He just said the next time I hear it to walk in the other direction. Whatever it is… I don’t think it wants to be friends,” Harry muttered.

……….

Edward sat in his classroom with his feet kicked up on the desk on the following week of class. His students had brought their own books for the class and were still trying to figure out the first law of alchemy. Some of them were discussing their pitches amongst each other softly while others seemed to have given up and started to work on their potions homework. He didn’t mind. If they didn’t want to try and figure out the first law he wouldn’t force them. That would be just a few less people that he had to teach.

As there wasn’t much to do aside from writing the textbook and watching over students so they didn’t blow up the place, Edward was quite bored just waiting for one of the students to figure it out. He was taking a small break from writing the textbook and was currently tossing a crumbled piece of parchment in the air like a ball just waiting for the bell to ring. Students would only on occasion work up the nerve to come up to his desk and ask him a question. He would answer it quickly and send them back. It was rather uneventful and should any other professor look in the classroom, they would assume that he wasn’t teaching at all, which he wasn’t. Unfortunately for him, that particular professor who chose to do just that was Professor McGonagall.

“Edward! What are you doing?” her stiff voice scolded him harshly as she stopped in the middle of the room to witness the students doing nothing in particular.

“Nothing,” he said simply as he tossed the ball one more time in the air. Minerva whipped out her wand and caught it with a levitation spell just to deposit it properly in the rubbish bin. Her face was contorted into a mixture of anger and disappointment as she stormed over to his desk and batted his feet off the top of it. “Hey!” he growled at her.

“You can’t just be doing nothing! Is this what you were doing the entire time?” she exclaimed. Edward grumbled under his breath as he straightened himself out in his chair.

“Yes, do you have a problem with it?”

“Obviously!” Minerva sniped. “You are getting paid to be a professor here at Hogwarts. You can’t just teach nothing.”

“Getting paid? Well that’s a joke,” Edward laughed. “More like ensnared against my own will. I won’t see a sickle this entire year.”

“All Professors get paid-”

“Well I guess I am not a teacher then now am I?” he smirked making her close her mouth in anger.

“You have to teach them something. I will be damned if you are just going to sit here the entire year and-”

“I am not teaching them alchemy until they understand the first law. If I do, they won’t understand the true meaning of alchemy and possibly get themselves killed.”

“Why don’t you tell them the first law-”

“Because I taught Flamel like that and look where it got me,” Edward muttered under his breath. Minerva seemed to catch that and ruffled up a bit.

“Flamel is a great wizard-”

“But a shitty alchemist and a backstabbing bastard,” he growled at her. “If I got my hands on him like I wanted to when I came here we would all be talking about the late Nicolas Flamel.” Minerva gasped as did the rest of the class. All wizards seemed to hold names of high regard and when someone bashed them it was the biggest insult to all wizard kind. Edward crossed his arms defiantly. “I am not trying to teach wizards I am trying to teach alchemists, of which Nick definitely was not. This is how my teacher taught me. Trust me, it is the best way.”

“You need to teach them at least something while they are in the classroom, Mr. Elric. Until they figure out whatever this first law is, you need to be instructing them on something relevant-”

“I am not teaching them alchemy until-”

“It doesn’t have to be alchemy! Just teach them something!” she scolded him before slamming a rather decent sized package on his desk. “And after you finally held a real class for once, I need you to take this to Snape. I have class next period and this needs to get to him before his next class-”

“Hey, why can’t you take it to him now?” Edward asked however the woman’s steely glare held him.

“Because my next class is a practical one so I need to get all of the animals ready for the students. I better hear that you took this down to the dungeons by the end of next period or else you might just be part of my practical!” she snipped. Edward’s eyes widened and he felt himself stumbling to stand. A feather of fear tickled the inside of his stomach and made him slightly nauseous. To some it would appear that he was afraid, or startled, by the woman’s threat. In all reality it wasn’t that which got to him.  

“The… The dungeons?” he asked, his voice seemingly lost to a whisper. Minerva looked at him strangely and nodded her head.

“Where else?” she asked, challenging only lightly. Edward felt his throat tighten up and he couldn’t think of anything else to say to her except the worse.

“C-can’t… Can’t Lockhart do it?” he asked nervously.

“Severus is on the edge of filing for a restraining order from that man, not that I would really trust him in the potions stores to begin with,” she told him. “So after you teach your class for once, take this down to his classroom. If I hear you still sit and do nothing during class period-”

“Let me guess, detention?” Edward sighed under his breath as he realised there was no way out of it. His stomach twisted in damnation but he tried his best not to let the class see him like a wreck.

“That would be the least of your worries,” she scoffed lightly. Edward frowned as he watched her leave and then looked back at the class. They were all staring at him expectantly, wondering what he would do. Edward sighed as he reached down into his drawer and pulled out a piece of chalk. He groaned as he forced himself to walk around his desk. He stood in front of the chalk board for a little while just staring at it. What was he going to teach besides alchemy? He was drawing a blank.

“Professor,” he heard one of his students say. He turned around to see Granger raising her hand. He sighed and pointed to her to shoot her question. “Why don’t you like Nicolas Flamel?” she asked and Edward wondered if he could kick her out of his class without McGonagall knowing.

“When I said he was a backstabbing bastard I meant it quite literally. That is the end of the story,” Edward growled at her, returning his thoughts to the board.

“Brother, you should teach chemistry. It uses the laws of conservation of mass and energy-” Alphonse advised.

“They’re wizards they wouldn’t understand it,” Edward sighed.

“It would be a good leeway into alchemy. It would also show them what stuff is made out of,” he reasoned. Edward took a deep breath and let it out as he glanced behind him to where the class was waiting expectantly for him. He relented to Alphonse’s pestering and took his chalk to the board. After a good few minutes of solid writing he dropped his chalk to the tray and spun around.

“Welcome to Organic Chemistry.”

…………

The darkness enveloped him, blinding him from the small cold world he was trapped in. It was like a black ink, permanent and unmoving. Edward's head made a loud clank as he rested it on the freezing cold stones of the dungeon's floor. He was too weak to lift the weight off his head any longer. The mask was unbearable to wear and to lift it was even more so. Edward closed his eyes and tried to focus on calming his shivering body down. His arms trembled violently from the cold and he knew that if he still had feeling left in his hands that he would be able to sense a small layer of crystal like ice forming on the stone wall behind him from the moisture that didn't want to leave. The shackles around his wrists that chained him to the wall if he ever found the energy to try and to fight to escape were sheathes of iron ice cased around his arms. The first few weeks or so when he was in there they had started to hurt and chafe his skin and he tried anything to get them off but now in the cold he couldn't feel them anymore.

He didn't know how long he was there for. It felt like ages but his best guess would have been two years. He couldn't see the daylight but he felt the cold of a winter pass and he could imagine that he was in his second one. The dungeon never got hot in the summer, just less cold. Without a blanket or clothes to warm himself with, it was a wonder why he was still alive. He had gotten sick only once and he imagined it to finally be the blissful end, but the Duke whose dungeon he was in wouldn't have it. The man didn't know much about alchemy but he knew that if he removed the mask whatever immortal powers in him would heal his body back to new. Whenever he was on the verge of death, the Duke would send people down to remove the mask for only a minute so his body could regain its health only to be trapped behind it once more. Edward cried whenever they did that. Not only did they rob him of his death but he also heard the voices inside of him that were silenced for such a long time. A happy relieved greeting from his brother and a concerned word from Mustang were the only joy he got before the mask contained the stone once more. Edward wanted nothing more than to be with them again, even if that might just be in the afterlife.

The Duke wanted to learn of his immortality just as anyone seeking power would have. The man, hearing of a witch that wouldn't die, scooped him up for his own benefit so that he could seek the answers to death. Edward wouldn't tell him. Even with all of the new ways the Duke showed him that he could hurt, Edward wouldn't tell him. In the beginning it was because he was strong. He was denying the man the world's greatest evil. He laughed in the faces of the greedy nobles and he fought every guard that came to get him for his next lesson in pain. He banged his head against the stones and clawed at the mask because he knew that every second he was there was another second he wouldn't spend in the company of his friends. However that spirit quickly left him. As the days wore on his body became weaker, his energy drained. His body was eating itself away and he knew, even if the Duke had let him walk free, he wouldn't be able to carry himself out of there on his own. He only kept his mouth shut about the secrets of the stone then not because he was defying the duke, but because he knew that eventually the man might just give up and kill him for no better use than for sport. Telling the man would only give the Duke more reasons to keep him alive.

Edward kept silent and his life in the dungeon fell into a hellish routine. He was force fed through the funnel of the mask what he assumed was three times a week. Interrogations would happen anywhere in between. When no one was with him, he would sit in the darkness, praying to whatever God the people of this world had put their faith in that he would be freed whether that meant walking out of the dungeon doors himself or being carried out in a box. He had no one to comfort him, only the silent twistings of his own mind. Sometimes, if he was lucky he could hear the tortured screams of some other prisoner in another dark dungeon room. Their screams meant that the soldiers were too busy with the fresh meat to bother with Edward's routine visits. That was the only thing that gave him some peace of mind and he hated himself for it. Because of that thinking, he had wished himself to stay in silence and dread the coming of torch light.

Footsteps sounded outside of the large wooden door and he heard the loud crank of a key unlocking it. Angry voices were arguing with each other, but Edward’s mind was too blurred to make them out. The door to the cell was flung open and the fiery light of a torch blinded Edward and made him curl up against the wall to get away from it. It felt like someone was driving a sword through the side of his head. He only knew this to be an accurate description because he felt it happen before. The men descended the small stone stare case that lead down to the base of the room he was chained in. Edward kept his eyes closed, knowing that the light wouldn't be there long enough to be worth hurting his eyes over. Footsteps clomped over to him, the metal of their armor ricocheting off of the stone floors. Edward felt one of his arms grabbed roughly and tugged as one of the shackles was removed off of him. Cool air pressed on his raw skin where it couldn't touch before. It felt like a soothing creme and Edward couldn't retain the groan of relief that flooded through him. Through the mask, the noise he made sounded garbled and more like a scream of pain. The soldiers gave a chuckle of amusement when they heard it.

"Hear that? The witch wants more." The shackle on Edward's automail arm was removed but it made no difference to him. His shoulder was frost bitten to the core. He couldn't move his automail arm or leg if he wanted to. With all of the heavy metal strapped to him in chains, restraints, and even his automail, he felt more like a lead weight than a moving person.

"Yeah, well we better give it to him now before we take him to the King. The little prick is ordering Duke Johan to give him up. I doubt he knows how dangerous these demons are."

"Witch lover," the first soldier spat in disrespect to their own king. Edward felt a swift kick to his stomach which knocked the air out of him. The soldiers dropped him to the ground and he just laid there like a sack of potatoes as he didn't have the energy to even sit up. He heard the rattle of chains and new shackles were placed around his arms and legs before one of the soldiers picked him up and slung him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing more than a bag of luggage.

"Let's get him to the cart." Little did Edward know, that after two years his prayers were finally answered.

……...

Edward stood at the top of the staircase what lead down into the cweartern. He had the package tucked under his arm all ready to be delivered but his feet just wouldn’t move. His chest was tight as he stared down into the darkness of the stairwell. The dark, cold, dungeons. Edward felt his heart race slightly and he had to take a step back in order to calm himself down.

“Brother, it has been fifteen minutes since you got here. You need to deliver it-”

“I will! Don’t rush me!” Edward scolded him, the frustration very noticeable in his voice. And yet, even though he said that he would he found himself taking another step back from the stair well. It was as if he could see into the darkness. He pictured chains on the windowless walls, the dampness of the cold air. He could almost feel the cold irons cutting into his wrists. Edward shook his head trying to clear the images out of his mind. This wasn’t that dungeon. There were classrooms down there, not prisoners left to be tortured and die. He sucked in a huge breath and steeled himself enough to regain the ground he lost, right back up to the entrance way.

“You can do it, just take your time,” Winry told him softly.

“If I took my time I wouldn’t go down at all,” Edward chuckled nervously as he stared down the spiral staircase again.

“You have us this time. You won’t be doing it alone,” she said.

“Alright,” he sighed tiredly, the anxiety in his voice very pronounced. After taking one last look at the bright castle behind him he took a deep breath with his first steps into the dark dungeon below. “Alright.”

……..

 Severus looked through his potion cabinets to see what he had in stock. He wanted to go to Diagon Alley at the end of the month to pick up some more supplies for the classroom and his own personal potion stores. He thought that he had sufficiently stored enough ingredients at the beginning of the year for at least the first semester however after a first year cauldron explosion that burnt half of his cabinets, he realised that he might be in need of some more sooner than expected. As he opened up another cabinet to count the ingredients he heard the door to the classroom open up. He turned to see who it was just to find the Eastern Sage walk in with a rather anxious look on his face as he took in the sight of his classroom. It seemed to somehow falter him as he entered as if he was imagining something of a nightmare walking in. He seemed to want to get out of there as soon as possible, because of what Severus could not say.

“Elric,” he said stiffly, making the man jump as he shocked him out of his intruding thoughts, “What are you doing here?” The golden haired alchemist shuffled over to him, taking a quick glance behind him. Severus thought that his demeanor was rather strange. It was hard to imagine that the Eastern Sage, an all powerful being, could appear to look scared and rather tired.

“I… I have this package for you. M-Minerva wanted me to drop it off for you,” the golden haired man said, his voice quivering almost as much as his hand was as he held out the package for him. It took Severus a few attempts before he was actually able to rip the package from the alchemist’s grasp because he was shaking so much. Something had the alchemist’s nerves wound tight and it was nearly driving Severus insane just watching him.

“Did you see Poppy in the Hospital Ward about your anxiety?” he asked him as he closed his cabinets and went back to his desk to open the package. “She makes sure to keep some Draught of Peace in stock at all times for such cases.” Elric’s face turned a little red as if he was upset that he needed something like that.

“I… I am not anxious! I just have a headache from…  stress-” but even against his words Severus watched the ancient man take a few shaky steps back from him towards the door.

“Your hand has been shaking since you came in here and you look like you saw a boggart,” he interrupted, cutting right to the point as he took a knife out and cut the light string on the parchment. “So why didn’t you get some from the Nurse?”

“I-It’s not strong enough-”

“If it was stronger you would be put into a coma. You can’t make it stronger-”

“That’s the thing, my body cleanses itself too fast. I need high doses of everything. A draught that would put you into a coma… would only work normally for me,” Edward muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Severus caught him looking over his shoulder one more time out of the corner of his eye and he groaned to himself in annoyance.

“Elric, what in this room makes you keep looking over your shoulder?”

“Nothing, can I just go now?” he retorted defensively.

“No,” he stated flatly. “You look like you’re half dead and I am considering calling Poppy down here to get you. So at least try to entertain the idea that my opinion in the matter can be swayed?” Edward frowned at him as he realised that he was not going to give him a choice in the matter. He glanced down at the ground to ponder the situation a bit and Severus rolled his eyes when he caught Elric glancing once more over his shoulder. Eventually, he relented.

“I-It’s nothing in the room… It’s just… I can’t stay here, in the dungeons alright?” he answered. “Can go? I didn’t want to come down here to begin with.”

“Why didn’t Minerva deliver the package herself?” he asked as he unwrapped the parchment paper to observe the disaster that laid underneath. He closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to figure out how horribly delivering a package could have gone wrong. “You mangled it,” he stated as he looked at the small broken vials of ingredients. He was supposed to use them in his fourth year class today but it looked like that along with the rest of his stores were now history.

“I… I uh.. Might have.... Thrown it at Peeves when he came out of the wall in the potions corridor and scared me,” the man muttered nervously. Severus rolled his eyes as he simply swiped the package off of his desk and into the rubbish bin beside it.

“Go see Poppy,” he ordered coldly. The alchemist frowned as he took a step back from the table. He seemed rather insulted, which was Severus’ intention as he unknowingly destroyed any hope of following through with the next class’s instruction. However the alchemist also seemed relieved with his dismissal as he did anything but sprint out of the classroom towards the stairs back to the upper levels of the castle. Severus watched as the alchemist left, a great curiosity settling in him. It seemed that Minerva was at least partially right in their constant arguments about the Eastern Sage. He was not the strong and powerful being Severus had originally taken him for. He was scared of something as simple as a dungeon and was clumsy as a child, which was something Severus still refused to call him. The Eastern Sage was not a child, yet he was still very peculiar indeed.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 7

The Brother

Sparks flew as metal clashed against metal. Men ran forward on foot and horseback, carrying the weight of their iron armor and blade. Bodies flew to the ground as catapults of rocks and debri flung their weights onto unexpecting heads. Voices yelled commands, cried prayers, and screamed in pain. Blood coated the ground as men lied on the ground with swords stuck between the plating of their armor begging for help or mercy. Everything was a blur of sound, motion, and the color red. All Edward could do was stand there and watch. His feet were frozen to the ground as men from the English soldiers raced forward to protect the throne. A light sword hung in his hand, one of the most decorated yet least blood coated, the sword of Gryffindor. Edward hung to it for dear life as he tried to force his body to move forward. He needed to move, he needed to move! Yet as he tried to force himself he found that his feet had been glued to the ground and his muscles had become petrified.

 A man crashed down to the ground in front of him, his body limp and his head smashed in from a heavy sword. Blood poured out from the distorted helmet and Edward felt his stomach turn as the man’s hand reached out for him. A light cross dangled from his wrist as his rosary was gripped for dear life. A scared gurgle came out of the man’s throat as his head hit the ground and he lied limp. Edward couldn’t help but scream.

“Edward, you need to move!” he heard Roy command him. “You are a sitting duck just waiting to die. MOVE!”

Edward found his foot stumble forward and his other one followed. The crowd pushed him onwards towards the brawl. Soldiers screamed at him to lift his sword and fight, but the only thing that he could focus on was the heaps of corpses cooking in the heat from their own armor. The more Edward continued into the fray, the more he felt like he was joining them.

“LOOK OUT!” a voice called him, snapping him out of his dazed hysteria. Edward looked up just in time to see a man with a pike charging him from the front lines. He lifted the Professor’s sword and parried the pike out of the way and yet the man kept running at him as if unable to stop from his own momentum. There was a sudden force as the man charged into him and the two of them fell to the hot ground, the weight of their armor crushing down upon them. Edward’s chainmail was no protection against the brute force of the crazed man’s plate armor and he felt the air easily knocked out of him as his back slammed against the earth. He opened his mouth and gasped for air just to find himself choking on metallic blood he was sure wasn’t his own. The dark skin of the man on top of him poked out beneath the helmet on his head. Blank cold eyes stared off into his golden one’s as blood dribbled out of his mouth in a small stream onto Edward’s face. In a panic Edward pushed as hard as he could to roll the dead man off of him. The sword of gryffindor was lodged in the throat of the corpse as the man must have run into it during his effort to spear him. Edward felt his stomach finally lose the battle as he bent over and vomited into the pool of blood the man was quickly making. A sob wracked his body as all of the strength in his legs vanished into thin air and he collapsed quickly to the ground. Tears clouded his eyes and all Edward could do was clutch the ground and like everyone else he was fighting beside and join the screams of fear, pain, and prayer that had engulfed the battle field in a matter of minutes. Roy yelled at him, the effort he was putting in to conceal his own panic very evident in his voice. He needed to move, he needed to keep moving, and yet Edward could do nothing but lay there even as another stranger in armor drove a great sword through his skull.

…...

BANG!

Edward let out a scream as he jolted awake. He felt his face smack off of the stone floor of his chambers as he fell out of bed in his fright. He groaned and cursed as he gripped his nose and tried to massage the pain out of it. There was a tousle of feathers and Edward looked up and glared at the large barn owl in his room which was perched amongst the shattered glass of his window. It stood there in the mess, ruffling its feathers a bit and grooming them with its beaks trying to right itself from the accident it just had. It was as if the bird was completely oblivious it broke through his window.

“Get over here you piece of shit,” Edward growled at it as he tried to distract himself from his previous nightmare. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back from cold sweat and his hand shook slightly in the fright, but he tried to focus on the bird and not his dream as he would have rather got stuck in the present than the past. The bird fluttered over the glass to where he was laying with only a couple beats of its wings. Feathers flew everywhere and Edward felt one of the large wings beat him in the face as if the bird wasn’t conscious of its own wingspan. It was obviously new to the post delivery world. He pushed the thing grumpily away and he untied the letter and the small package from the bird’s leg.  He found it odd that he was getting mail. It was a rare occasion to get even a letter a year. He didn’t even know who would ever think of writing him anything. Surely all of the people he knew well enough to keep in contact with were dead or Flamel. If Flamel tried writing him he was sure to throw it right into the fire.

“Okay who sent you?” Edward sighed as he opened the letter, setting the small leather pouch off to the side. He found it odd that it had the Hogwart’s seal on it. Why would they waste time sending him a letter? He was trapped there for heaven’s sake! The letter was short and brief, written in rather flourished letters as if attempting to appear formal when it seemed to be rather of a notice.

            Dear Mr. Elric,

                        Minerva has brought it to my attention that you have not been paid yet for your stay at Hogwarts. She was concerned for your welfare and I took it upon myself to make sure you are benefitting from your stay here. Your first pay is contained with this letter.

            Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Edward crushed the letter in his hand as he read Dumbledore’s name. That sly son of a bitch. He had no intention of giving him anything for his entrapment there. It was only the transfiguration professor’s input that made him address the situation.

“Took it upon myself-BAH! What a load of bull shit,” Edward muttered to himself as he tossed the letter into the waste bin near the bed. He couldn’t believe that man. However, as much as he was loathing Dumbledore at that moment, he couldn’t help but be grateful that Minerva had taken his statement yesterday seriously enough to inquire about it. He honestly didn’t care about the money. Being so old, interest in his bank account accumulated over the years and he was sure that he was the cause of the Great Depression in 1929. He honestly didn’t know what to do with it all and he didn’t care to check up on his standings in forever. Getting paid would have just given him more money that was already useless to him. He looked back down at the leather bag and opened it up. There was a decent amount in there, mostly galleons with a few sickles in the mix to add up the difference. As he couldn’t go anywhere to spend it, it would have just sat in his desk drawer accumulating mass as his future paychecks came in.

“Brother what are you going to do with it?” Alphonse asked him curiously as he stood up from the floor and dragged himself over to his desk. He pulled out a quill and a small piece of parchment and started to write a quick note. He signed it at the bottom and quickly handed it off back to the barn owl along with the pouch of coins. The bird nipped at his fingers when it took the packages and in a flutter of feathers made its way back out of the shattered window.

“Nothing,” Edward muttered as he stood up from his desk and started to get ready for the day, ignoring the mess of shattered glass on the floor of his room. He put on his simple jacket and slacks and braided his hair before heading out of his chambers, leaving his room a mess and his nightmare behind him.

He had a few pieces of parchment tucked under his one arm, his textbook in progress under the other, and a quill with some ink cupped delicately in his hand as he strode through the castle towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He wanted to get a head start on his classes, even though he would be sacrificing a quiet breakfast to do so. With teaching Organic Chemistry he needed to actually make lesson plans. Being an expert on the subject, he already knew what to teach and when, it was the how that was difficult. How was he going to get wizards and witches to understand a subject that was even difficult for the greater part of the muggle population was above him, but for the sake of his own head he needed to figure it out. There was also the issue with the text book. He was almost done with the book with the help of Mustang, Alphonse, and Hohenheim, but he needed to actually configure it together. Once he got the last few chapters done it would be just a pile of papers instead of a bound book. And then there was the issue of copying it for the masses.

“Brother, don’t drop the ink!” Alphonse exclaimed as Edward nearly tripped over a tiny house elf who was on its way back towards the kitchens. He muttered out an apology which just made the elf run a little faster away.

“This is why I need a pen,” he grumbled as he found a new grip on his in well and pushed the door to the Great Hall open.

“This is why you need to watch where you are going,” his brother chuckled lightly, making a small smile form on his lips. The hall was empty but newly set as the dishes were brimming with breakfast, steaming and hot. He was the first one in being so early and he was rather grateful for the peace and quiet. Shuffling his way to the High table he set down his papers and filled a plate lightly with eggs-

“You need to eat more than that.”

-with more eggs and set it down to begin his work. He started on his class lecture since he would need that first thing in the morning with his classes. He wished that Minerva didn’t force him to teach a class because it was a lot easier when he didn’t have to do anything. At the rate that the students were figuring out the first law, Edward had some hope that organic chemistry was the only thing he would be teaching that semester.

“Nomenclature? Wouldn’t it be easier to do a periodic table analysis first? Some of them don’t know anything on chemistry,” Alphonse challenged him as Edward wrote out his lesson plan.

“Oh yeah. Damn it. This is going to take forever! We are going to have to go all the way back to block one and start from scratch!” Edward whined as he crossed out his work. “I don’t understand how wizards can’t know this. It’s so simple-”

“This is why you shouldn’t have picked Organic, brother.”

“Organic is simple!”

“Only for you.”

“Bah!” Edward exclaimed as he grumpily shoveled a spoonful of eggs into his mouth. It was steamy and warm, igniting his insides and cooling his aching limbs. Edward glanced outside and noticed that the sky was still dark even for early morning. Clouds threatened a storm and his ports seemed to know it. He groaned as he took another bite of his eggs letting the warmth calm his nerves. It was good, but he could still remember Pinako’s stew. She would always make it for him when he was home and knew a storm was coming. It was not only his favorite but it helped him relax just a little bit. A storm was just never the same without it.

“Brother?” Alphonse asked curiously. It seemed that he felt the change in his emotion. Edward frowned and looked back down to his parchment.

“Nothing-”

“I miss it too,” he said, a weak reminiscing sense of happiness flickering from him. Edward felt it and it just made him a little more sad. “I still have a list of food to try when we get back.”

“I bet all of you do now,” Edward mumbled sadly.

“Even you have one brother. I know it.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly. “Someday we will get back. There just has to be something I am missing-”

“Why don’t we go to the library this evening?”

“Pshh, Alphonse you know I already read all of the books in that damn place.”

“So? The words might be the same but it might bring about new ideas. I can help-”

“Al, I know you haven’t been out in a while but I don’t know how much this storm is going to take out of me. I can’t promise that you would be able to come out tonight-”

“But… but it could just be for a little bit. Please brother?”

"If not tonight, tomorrow for sure. I just don’t want to bring you out and not be able to spend anytime with you cause I am in the hospital ward!” Edward exclaimed lightly with a small smile. He heard his brother chuckle weakly in response. It was obvious that Alphonse was disappointed, and Edward was upset for making him feel that way. He had been trapped in the stone for over 600 years and only had a small glimpse of salvation the night that Edward found him. He was only out for a couple hours before Edward needed to return him back to the stone. He couldn't imagine being trapped in the stone for so long without an outlet of any sort. He couldn't picture being trapped in it at all. A small jolt of pain rode up his arm and Edward winced as he massaged his shoulder. With the closer the storm came the worse his hopes of bringing Alphonse out of the stone looked.

"Brother you should see the nurse about your limbs. Maybe she can help," Alphonse advised. "You won't be able to teach very well once the storm rolls in."

"The only thing she really can give me are potions and none of them are strong enough. By the time we make some I can take the storm will be over. I just need to wait," Edward muttered as he picked his quill back up, seeing that the ink had dripped over his parchment when he wasn't looking. "Besides, if I am sick I don't have to teach-"

"Brother-"

"Hey, it’s one or the other. I don't want either. If you knew what it felt like-"

"Mr. Elric who are you talking to?"  a voice interrupted him. Edward looked behind him, only slightly startled to see Minerva standing there. She had her own stack of papers in her hand as if she had the same idea to work at breakfast. Rounding the table, she took her seat across from him in the otherwise empty hall.

"Oh.. uh-"

"Don't tell me it was your brother again. You were very upset the last time you talked to him," she said a little hesitantly. Edward remembered when Minerva barged in on him in his classroom at the beginning of the year. She was rather startled and didn't understand who he was talking to. He didn't quite think she believed him when he told her it was his brother. He doubted that telling her the truth would make her understand any more. When you talk to someone who doesn't appear to be there, you look a little crazy.

"Uhm… yes?" Edward answered hesitantly, very pressured by Minerva's expectation of an explainable answer. However, he didn't feel like going into great detail with it. She looked up from her work with a raised eyebrow, studying him as if to find some sanity in him. Edward turned his head back down to his work not wanting to be stared at longer than he had to be.

"Edward, for your wellbeing and others I wish you would tell me the truth-"

"This is the truth!" he retorted. "It's just complicated-"

"Then try to make this complicated issue easier for us to understand. If you want help, with anything-"

"Brother, you can show her-"

"I am not letting you out yet Alphonse. I already told you this." Edward scolded his brother in old tongue which just made the transfigurations professor more confused. "Look, I am old, not crazy-"

"You are growing a little harder to believe when you say that," Minerva replied when suddenly Edward heard the low thrum of thunder through the walls of the castle. The aches in his limbs became fully conscious to him and he groaned lightly. He looked up to the enchanted ceiling and saw that the sky had opened up and rain started to fall. He cursed as he picked up his papers from the table and quickly tucked them underneath his arm. He had to cross the suspension bridge in order to get to his class. He better leave now before he would have to sprint across in the pouring rain and get his papers more wet than they had to be. Giving a quick dismissal, he turned out of the Great Hall as the first sign of students started to flood in and made his leave.

"Oh my god! Brother look!" Alphonse exclaimed as he went out into the Entrance Hall and passed the corridor that lead to the basements. An overwhelming sense of eagerness came from inside him that was so strong it made Edward stop in his place. Alphonse was getting excited and Edward was slightly scared with its magnitude. He didn't even have to see what Alphonse noticed as he heard a low soft call coming from the corner of the hall. Edward’s eyes widened as he listened to it.

Oh no, he thought.

He turned his head towards where the sound was coming from and saw a raggy old cat creeping up the staircase from the dungeons. It rounded the corner and sat near the wall patiently, unaware of the danger it posed just being there. Edward felt his muscles suddenly twitch out of his control and he tried to fight them back. He quickly tried to continue his way towards the Great Hall but he finally felt the inevitable tug in his chest of a force overpowering him.
“Oh shi-” he started but never got to finish as his body lunged out of his control.
……..
Minerva sat at the High Table grading tests from her second year class. She felt a little off sitting there after her conversation with Edward. He was talking to himself again which greatly unsettled her. Dumbledore had told her that it was just something that Edward did but she was worried for him nonetheless. Who he was talking to and why it always seemed to make him upset was beyond her. He said it was his brother but no one was there. There was no form of wizard communication that one could just talk into thin air and be heard… at least that she knew of. She desperately wanted him to take her concern seriously and to see someone about it.

"What delightful event have I missed that has gotten you so down?" she heard Severus' slimy sarcasm behind her. She sent him a tight-lipped glare as she returned to her work.

"Quiet Severus. It has nothing to do with you. I am just pondering Mr. Elric's habit of talking to himself."

"A sure sign of insanity," Severus said mockingly as if he didn't believe her. "If you want him to get looked at, you would do much more good helping him get over his fear of the dungeons. Maybe next time he wouldn't destroy my packages-"

"Fear of the dungeons? He didn't say anything about that to me when I was in his classroom-"

"And why would he tell you?" Severus asked her.

"Because… Because," Minerva started to try and find a reason but she shook her head angrily at Severus trying to get back on topic. "Something's wrong with him, Severus. He says that he is talking to his brother when no one is there. With him being so old, his brother is probably deceased! Aren't you concerned-"

"I am concerned about his presence here in the castle but not for the subject of him talking to himself," Severus said simply as he took seat down next to her.

"You believe him?!" Minerva exclaimed in shock. Severus was the last person she would have expected to have taken the Eastern Sage's word for anything. He seemed suspicious and wary of the man ever since he came to the castle. For him to believe something so absurd was beyond her.

"I saw his 'brother' the first night he was here. Whether it truly is or isn't his brother I have yet to figure out, but he is talking to someone," he stated flatly making her frown.

"You saw him?! How-"

"He has the stone, Minerva. Things always aren't as they appear. I am sure we will all get an explanation soon as to who the Eastern Sage is and what powers the stone has even if we must pry it out of him. However, for now the only thing we can do is wait… at least one  full lunar cycle that is-"

"You are not using veritaserum on Mr. Elric!" Minerva scolded him under her breath, giving him light whap on the shoulder as if to knock some sense into him. "He is a teacher like anyone of us. You wouldn't use it on anyone else in the castle-" she started but Severus looked away as if he lost interest in the conversation. He picked up his plate and got up to leave. Minerva's eyes widened and mouth dropped open in shock. "You wouldn't would you? Severus? Severus!" she shouted after him but the man left as quietly as he came. Minerva growled to herself. That man always knew what buttons to push to ruffle her feathers. That conversation got her nowhere except in finding that Edward was more troubled than she originally thought. She wanted desperately to know more about him but the man was very closed off with everything.

Suddenly she heard a light commotion coming from the Entrance Hall and she looked up to see a few of the early rising students running out in the hallway to look at something. Whispered gossiping picked up and she knew that something was the matter. Picking up her robes she quickly got up from the table and marched towards the doors of the Great Hall. If the Weasley twins thought it funny to steal beads out of the Slytherin Hourglass, she at least wanted to see it before she gave them due punishment. With Severus' conversation she just had she might pretend not to see it at all. As she got out into the Entrance Hall she looked around to see the few students and professors who filled the hall looking and pointing to the corner of the place, whispering to each other nervously. Minerva did not expect what she saw when she turned her head.

The young-looking alchemy professor was sitting on the stone floor with Mrs. Norris the cat trapped in his arms. Pieces of parchment and a spilled well of ink scattered the floor around him as if he just forgot that he was holding them. He wore a genuine smile on his face that radiated brighter than his golden hair as he nuzzled the poor thing. Mrs. Norris, a usually grumpy cat that matched the ill-tempered caretaker’s personality, seemed to enjoy the presence of the new addition to the Hogwarts staff. It was absurd to see all around. Edward Elric, the Eastern Sage no less, was a professor that insulted and frightened his students and intimidated the staff to no end. He was an immortal being who was written about in the legends and history books. The Eastern Sage did not cuddle cats, talk nonsense to it nonetheless! The students crowded around him and Minerva had to force her way through in order to get to the mess. The young Colin Creevey had his camera out and was taking pictures, ones that she would have to quickly confiscate afterwards.

“Edward…. Edward....Mr. Elric!!” Minerva called out as she approached the man. He didn’t seem to acknowledge her until she practically screamed at him. His golden eyes looked up, a tint of pure happiness in them. He looked at her a little confused as if he didn’t recognise her right away.

“Edward, what on earth are you doing?” she asked as he stood up, still holding Mrs. Norris. She heard a faint sound coming from the animal and realised that it was purring. For a cat who has been around seemingly ages, that was the first time Minerva ever heard Mrs. Norris purr!

“Oh uh… McGonagall was it?” the man asked as if he forgotten her name. “I just saw this cat and… well I couldn’t help myself,” he answered with a weak nervous grin.

“Edward, do you mind putting Mrs. Norris down?” Minerva stated more than asked. She was rather concerned for the man’s health, more mentally than physically. He looked at her as if wondering what she said until something clicked in his mind.

“Oh, I am not Edward. I am his brother, Alphonse,” he said, shuffling the weight of the cat in his arms and holding out his hand to her. Minerva looked down at it and back at him. She was so utterly confused as to what was going on. Surely that was Edward standing in front of her. Before she could take him up on his introduction, or question what was wrong with him, there was a shout from the staircase leading to the dungeons.

“You there? What in the bloody hell are you doing with my cat?!” Filch’s angry voice shouted out. Mrs. Norris squirmed in Elric’s hold, which one Minerva still had yet to decide. “What are you doing to her! Trying to kidnap her? Drop her over a bridge? I had enough of you people trying to taunt Mrs. Norris! Let her go!” the man raged as he ripped his pet out of his arms. Mrs. Norris’s purring stopped but Filch just cuddled her as if trying to soothe her. “There, there Mrs. Norris. No one’s going to harm you-”

“Um… sir, i wasn’t going to do any of those things. I was just.. Arggh!” Elric groaned suddenly as he clutched his head as if a migraine had suddenly come over him. He bent over with a low growl under the pain of his sudden ailment. Though it was quite obvious to Minerva that something was wrong with him, Filch seemed none the wiser. With a few choice words warning the professor to stay away from his cat, he sped off to where he came from taking Mrs. Norris with him. Suddenly Elric jolted up in an angry rage yelling at no one in a foreign tongue. Minerva took a step back as it seemed the man went completely mad.

“Mr. Elric-”

“What?” the man groaned out, the grumpy usual self striking her with his cold golden eyes. Minerva couldn’t help but just try to close her mouth at the shock of it all. It seemed that the strangeness had subsided and the normal Elric was back, though looking more angry than usual.

“Are you alright?” she asked taken back by the whole ordeal.

“No,” he growled out stiffly as he pushed his way past her. He looked up, seeming to have noticed all of the other people in the hall staring at them and he scolded with rather colorful language for them to mind their own business. The students all quickly scattered away to gossip more out of the sight of their new topic. Edward grumbled to himself as he straightened out his jacket and dusted it off from sitting on the floor.

“Mr. Elric, what happened? If you are not alright, this includes mentally, I need to know! I will not have this kind of absurdity amongst the students!” she yelled at him stiffly. The man seemed to freeze in his place for a second as if registering what he was listening to. He turned around, the anger in his eyes igniting into a fire and Minerva felt herself straighten out to challenge it.

“Are you calling me insane?!” he asked as if it was blasphemous.

“Well I am not saying that you aren’t!” she retorted defensively.

“The only thing insane about any of this is that my brother would do something as callous as taking his own brother’s body!” he yelled though to Minerva it appeared not to be directed towards her at all. The new professor continued to rage in an odd language and there appeared to be no end to it.

“Edward, this is precisely why you appear to be unstable! Who is this brother of yours?! You argue with him, and emotionally break down when talking to him. Is he a figure of your imagination or just a voice in your head?! I want to know, for your well being and the rest of ours!! You are scaring the students!” she scolded. Edward glared at her and opened his mouth to seemingly explain but closed it again and shook his head. He quickly took a few steps back into the Entrance hall and clapped his hands. Minerva knew the power of alchemy now that she had seen him use it a couple of times in her presence but it still amazed her as she watched the stone morph and take its shape. The professor appeared to have made an old suit of armor from the stone. It stood menacingly tall and Minerva felt intimidated by its presence. Suddenly out of nowhere a bright red light ignited and an intricate runed circle started to etch its way around the figure through the air. She held her breath as the jagged blood red light formed, creating a haunting glow about the armor. Edward clapped his hands once more and touched his chest a flaming pulse igniting from it just to latch on and dance around his finger tips. He casted it through the circle at the armor where it seemingly bound to it in a bright fury of light. When all was said and done and the light was extinguished Edward let out an angry growl and threw his arm towards the figure.

“Here he is, my asshole of a brother!” he raged. "There Al! You get what you want! I hope you're happy." After a rather loud kick to the armor's shins he stormed off back up the staircase into the depths of the castle. He had a noticeable limp to him that he was trying to fight. Minerva turned to watch him leave but to her surprise so did the armor.

“Brother!” the armor called after him but the elder Elric was gone. With a sigh the armor turned to her and quickly apologised, shocking her to her core. Suits of armor were able to be enchanted to move but none seemed to have any actual valid forms of consciousness. Seeing the armor not only move but talk, and have conscious memory was a whole new magic that Minerva was not aware of. To put it plainly, she was a bit startled.

“I am Alphonse Elric, his brother,” the armor reintroduced himself now in a body of metal instead of Edward’s. Minerva tried to close her mouth but she found that it was near impossible as she shook his hand. Severus and Dumbledore had informed her of the Sage’s armored figures but she thought it only to be enchantments. She didn’t imagine them to be like this…. Nor so polite.

“I am sorry about my brother. It… It’s kind of my fault,” he answered, a light tint of shame flowing through him. “I just… I haven’t had a physical body in years and… I kind of got excited and… overwhelmed him. It isn’t like me. I promised I would never do it but… God who am I kidding. I haven’t felt a cat in ages! It was amazing!” Alphonse ended in sheer enjoyment like a little kid who just got off his first broom ride.

“Mr. … Mr. Elric, pardon me but… you are just confusing me all the more,” Minerva said tersely. “You are really his brother?” she asked and the armor nodded its hollow head.  Minerva covered her mouth in shock as she took a few steps back. The armor covered them quickly, seeming upset with her reaction.

“Professor, I am sorry. It’s kind of hard to explain. He wanted to but... This is all my fault,” Alphonse whined softly as he shook his head. He seemed to really regret what had happened even though in the moment it was all the joy he had imagined it to be. “I need to see if brother’s alright-”

“Mr. Elric I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” Minerva called stopping the suit of armor from chasing after the professor. “The last time I talked to him in such a state-”

“He was talking to me. I… I didn’t know what had happened when Flamel… He was just informing me. We haven’t seen each other in 600 years, professor. I was here.”

“Here?” Minerva questioned him, pushing for answers. The armor shifted around nervously and nodded his head. Though he stood tall because of his structure the armor’s posture indicated one of a young boy, upset and scared. Minerva frowned. The Elrics just gave her more questions than answers to those she already had. She didn’t know much about how to deal with an ancient legend, but she knew how to deal with children. She held out her hand and took the armor’s large leather one into her own. “I invited your brother to tea. It seemed to do him good. Now you will join me for a cup.”

“But… I can’t drink-”

“You don’t need to drink tea to know what it has to offer.”
…….
Lightning struck outside as the rain hammered the windows of Edward's chamber bathroom, threatening to shatter the grass. Edward bent over the toilet and quickly emptied his stomach of everything he had for breakfast. His body felt like all of his energy had just evaporated from him and was being sucked out through his ports on his automail. His legs felt weak as the pain throbbed through his limbs and to the rest of his body. This storm was worse than he had originally thought and now having put Alphonse in the armor, he had less will to fight it with. He groaned as he sat back from the bowl and pulled his legs in tighter. He gently started to run his fingers through his hair trying to calm his mind down from his aches and pains. He cursed his brother as a shiver went down his spine.

“Edward, you know he didn’t mean it,” Winry called to him softly, trying to comfort him in the only way she could, with words. “He just got excited. You know how he is. He didn’t realise-”

“I know. I know!” Edward bit, more towards himself than those lying within the stone. His stomach hurt and it felt like his body wouldn't stop shaking. He was still soaking wet from his walk across the suspension bridge to the Dark Art's tower. He hadn't the life left in him to change. He remembered the storms back in Resembool how Pinako would help him when he got terribly ill. She would run a hot bath and make him some light soup to warm him up. But now, he had no one to help him but himself.  “I know why. I shouldn’t be mad. You live like this every day while I get to stay in my body. I know why he did it but-”

“You aren’t mad, Edward, you are scared.” he heard the voice of his father say stiffly. The man wasn’t one for gentleness but Edward could tell when he was trying anyways. “That was a lot of pressure to put you under. It was-”

“Too much like the mask,” Edward whispered, finishing the statement for him. He remembered the feeling of weightlessness as Alphonse switched ownership with him. It felt like he was being pulled back into a tornado of hopelessness. The mixture of every soul’s emotions, fears, bound all into one solution. Edward’s own only added to the chaos. He couldn’t hear anything out of his own rampaging thoughts. He couldn’t touch, feel. He was in his own solitary confinement with a million other people suffering through their own. Just imagining it all over again made him nauseous and he bent back over the bowl to release the fear he had built up inside of him. His body quaked and shivered as he found even more energy drained from him and he collapsed back down to the stone floor. He felt cold just lying there and he grew more frustrated than ever.

“I-I don’t know how you do it! I just can’t!" he growled weakly as water built up in his eyes. He furiously tried to wipe it away but he knew that no one was around to watch. "Every memory just takes me down and I can’t handle it anymore. Being here in this castle is driving me crazy. I can’t look around a corner without thinking of what happened here. I don’t know why I can’t handle this if you live in this hell every hour of the day!” Edward exclaimed. “When I was pulled in… I thought that was the end.”

“We fight a different battle than you do. We learned to tune out our spiritual pains while you learned how to habituate your physical ones,” Hohenheim explained. “No matter how many times you get pulled in Edward, this isn’t your battle to fight. Alphonse knows this and shouldn’t have pulled you into it.”

“Edward, you have been through a lot. We keep telling you this. But you need to know that those are just memories and they can’t hurt you,” Winry added.

“They’re just so real. It’s been nearly a millenia and I can’t rid myself of any of them-”

“Edward, just calm down and relax. You are straining yourself," she ordered him as Edward felt his chest heave with a sob. He dropped his face into his hands as he was ashamed for crying. Yet, curling up with his back resting against the side of the tub, he wept. He could feel the emotions of everyone in the stone and some of them were afraid, some of them were upset, but he felt a strong sense of concern floating out from his friends who couldn't do anything about it because they were trapped inside of him. They were trapped inside a torment of souls and yet he was greedy enough, too scared enough to let them actually feel human again inside his own body. He couldn't let them use a body that could feel, eat, taste, touch, because the only one that they could use was his own.

"Damn it all!" he cursed as he wiped his eyes on his jacket in vain as the wet fabric only made his face more damp. "Why can't something good happen for once, huh?!" he argued at nothing.

"Edward, please. Everything is alright. It might be different, but everything is alright. Please, please calm down. Go lie down and relax a little," Winry said softly through his frustrated cries. Edward wanted to ignore her and to stay pathetically curled up on the bathroom floor but the urging and comforting words from the residents of the stone made him give in. He sniffled as he pushed himself up to his feet. He stumbled and staggered as his legs quaked underneath him. He dared take a step and then another one as he forced himself to follow his friend's encouraging instructions towards his bed. The instant he was within an arms reach he collapsed down on it, not caring he was only half way resting on it. As his head hit the pillow he felt all of his left over energy wash out of him. His stomach churned and he felt a horrible heat come over him. Groaning he curled his legs up to his chest to ease the pain he felt in his body.

The rain pattered against the window pane and a loud roll of thunder shook the glass. He glared out of the high glass window. Lightning flashed against the clouds as if in retaliation and Edward found himself growling at it in frustration.

 "Damn you Truth and your fucking exchange," he found himself wanting to yell but it only came out in a harsh whisper. The souls of over a million people trapped inside of him without hope of escape, some having no prior knowledge of alchemy at all. Edward couldn't find the equivalence. It wasn't fair. Angry tears filled his eyes and he felt the damnation of his position hit him all over again. He couldn't even find a way home.

"Edward, everything will be alright," Winry whispered, her voice pulling him into a near trance. Whenever she said that it made her actually believe that it might just be. But no, it wasn't. No matter how he looked at it they were still stuck in the stone and he still had no way of getting back. There was no equivalence in anything. Yet, he let himself listen to her say it over and over again, willing it to be true. "Everything will be alright."

………..

Alphonse waited for the transfigurations professor to reply. She just sat across the desk from him and stared as if trying to digest what he had told her. It seemed to be processing, just very slowly.

"So you… don't have a body. And live inside of your brother?" she asked him. He nodded his head in confirmation just sending the room back into its previous silence. He felt very awkward sitting there like a student and he wished for anything just to go back to his brother and apologise. He needed to find him. Minerva leaned forward in her chair and resituated herself as if she was finally satisfied with an answer. "When he talks to himself it really is you, and you're not a physical figment of his imagination?"

"No. It's really me. Why would you think that?" Minerva shrugged apologetically as she took a shaky sip of her tea, the shock still settling in for her.

"It is amazing what people can conjure up. I am not familiar enough with alchemy to be able to understand this fully," she replied simply. They sat there through another string of silence. And Alphonse found himself picking up the teacup that sat in front of him. He watched the steam float off the top of the hot drink and yet he could feel nothing outside of that cold suit of armor. He remembered when he had control of Edward's body. Even for those few minutes it was pure ecstasy. He could breath, he could smell, he could feel. Just remembering how the cat's fur felt between his fingers made him want to smile. It made him yearn to do it all over again. Yet, he couldn't. He couldn't do that to his brother. He knew how cold it was inside the armor and he knew what it felt like inside the stone. He cursed himself for even being foolish enough to try something so stupid. He would never wish that upon his brother, the one who gave him so much just to keep him there. A shiver trickled down his armor and Alphonse quickly set down the cup, not wanting to imagine the feeling ever again. He had gone so long already without a body. He could wait a little longer until they got home…. Whenever that would be. A feeling of homesickness quickly grew inside of him. When he was inside of the stone he was surrounded by friends, out here, he felt more alone than ever and farther away from Amestris than he had ever felt before. He had forgotten in the 600 years he had been apart from Edward, how it actually felt to be alone with one's thoughts. How easily it was to become lonely.

"Mr. Elric," Minerva interrupted, snapping him from his thoughts. "I apologise for pressing your brother so much. I was just worried. Seeing him interact with himself was quite strange and it unsettled even some of the students. Now hearing from Severus that he was afraid of the dungeons. I didn't realise how far I have been pushing him over the past few weeks, let alone the last day!"

"We… We have been trying to get brother to open up a bit but… he is so reluctant sometimes. Yet he did manage to actually go down into the dungeons… which he hasn't been able to do in forever since our first day here. And he actually seems to like to talk to you and a couple of the other professors-"

"Could have fooled me," Minerva scoffed lightly, though a small smile played on the very corner of her lips. Alphonse chuckled nervously.

"Y-yeah… he isn't used to talking to anyone but us really. Enough bad things had happened to us that… I think he just wants to tune everyone out in hopes that they won't happen again," Alphonse muttered.

"You seem to have a lot happen to you, and at such a young age-"

"Oh, we are older than we look-"

"I know," she replied sadly. "I can't even begin to imagine what life you two lead but I hope it turns around soon. It looks like your brother can use something good in his life about now."

"I feel like the only thing that will make anything better is if we can get home. It has been ages since we have been back. I am almost starting to forget what it looks like," Alphonse replied sadly. "I think Brother's forgetting too."

"If you need we can make a request-"

"It isn't that simple. If it was, my brother and the rest of us wouldn’t be trapped in this castle. We would have made it home over half a millenia ago."

“Wait, trapped?” Minerva questioned, catching the word’s odd use.  Alphonse had thought that all of the faculty knew about it. They were trapped inside the stone walls and couldn’t leave. It seemed then that Dumbledore was not being completely honest on his agenda to even his most closest allies. But with less people knowing, that also meant less people willing to help. Alphonse hesitated on telling her. Dumbledore was not a bad man though his actions challenged that statement. If he didn’t want the professors to know there had to be a reason. However, he, his brother, and everyone else in the stone were sick of the man’s games. They should not have been kept there against their will when they had more important things to deal with. He decided that in the best intrest of the entire population of Amestris as well as a few old Xerxian souls, that it was best to tell the professor in hopes that she could help them.

“Yes, trapped. Dumbledore-“ Alphonse started but could not finish as a sudden loud clash of thunder startled him and he jolted up out of his seat. He looked out of the classroom window and saw the rain pouring out into the courtyard. It was vicious and looked to be a pretty bad storm. He suddenly let out a gasp as he remembered his conversation earlier with his brother at the breakfast table.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed as he quickly forgot his previous conversation and pushed his chair in. "I-I am sorry. I forgot. I need to get back to brother-"

"Why-"

"He-he gets terribly ill during storms like this. I-I am sorry I need to leave-" Alphonse started but then stopped as he looked around. He didn't know where he was. Surely he knew he was in the transfigurations classroom. Edward had been navigating the castle long enough for Alphonse to internalize a map of it, but walking around it by himself was different. He wasn't quite sure of himself. He turned quickly back to Minerva and shuffled back to the desk. "Please… Professor, can you please show me to his classroom. I...I-" he begged her and she stood up immediately as she didn't want to waste any time.

"Follow me," she said stiffly though her eyes betrayed all of the concern her voice did not. She walked briskly, almost so quickly that Alphonse had trouble keeping up. They wound their way through the castle and up two floors to the third level. Though they were making quick pace, Alphonse felt fear build up in him as he felt it was taking too long. He needed to get to his brother and apologise. He needed to make sure he was alright. Feeling incredibly foolish for sending his brother into such stress, his legs just moved faster, the metal making loud and very audible clunks down the corridor. They made a cut through the armory and Alphonse refused to look at the figures standing against the walls at the position of attention.

"It's right here-" Minerva started but faltered as she noticed a giant crowd of students around the door, waiting to be let in. It appeared to be Edward's second year class as Alphonse recognised the Potter boy nearly immediately. "What's going on here?" Minerva demanded, grabbing the students attention.

"Where is Professor Elric?" one of the ravenclaws asked. "We are supposed to have class and I think I figured out the-"

"So he's not here?" she asked for confirmation and the students nodded their heads. She turned to Alphonse and motioned for him to follow. "If he isn't here, let's hope he's in his chambers," she said. "Come Mr. Elric." Alphonse eagerly followed, leaving the students in confusion as they made their way farther down the corridor of the Dark Art's tower. They came upon  large rather ugly looking portrait and the transfigurations professor had no trouble opening it with a wave of her wand. They stormed in to find the floor covered in puddles of water. The room was eerily quiet and Alphonse looked around around the large chamber, afraid that his brother wasn't there but then he saw a limp form curled up on the corner of the bed. Alphonse gasped as he ran over to him, his armor clanking all the way. His brother seemingly flinched with the sound but to the best of his knowledge, Edward was unconscious. His knees fell to the floor as he leaned over the side of the bed where his brother was collapsed. Edward was soaking wet, his clothes drenched from the storm. His wet golden hair was loosened out of its braid and plastered to his face. He was trembling from the cold and resembled something of a wet cat. Alphonse heard Minerva's footsteps enter behind him, a gasp coming from her own lips.

"Oh my," she whispered as she was quick to join him by Edward's side. She laid her hand over Edward's forehead to check his temperature, that was something Alphonse was very grateful for because he couldn't do it. He cursed his body as he couldn't even use it to find the extent of his brother's ailments.

"He's burning up. We need to get him to the-"

"The nurse can't help," Alphonse whined as he picked up his brother in his arms. Edward noticeably withdrew from his cold armor and Alphonse felt himself growing desperate to find someone or something to make him feel better. It was obvious he was not the one to do it. "Nothing but a super concentrated potion would really work for him. His body has too strong of a resistance-"

"Then I will get Severus! He would be able to make something within the hour. We will take him to the Hospital Ward and then Severus can start making something," she said as she quickly ushered him out of the room but Alphonse quickly grabbed one of the blankets off of the rocking chair that was sitting by the unlit fireplace. He wrapped his shivering brother in the wool blanket hoping to at least keep him warm and dry. "How on earth did he get like this?" Minerva asked as she saw what he was trying to do. She waved her wand over Edward's clothes, drying him off for him. Alphonse nodded his head in gratitude.

"His automail always hurts him when the weather changes but during a bad storm it makes him sick," Alphonse explained, turning towards the door now with a drier Edward in his arms. His brother was still trembling though, which made him even more scared. "He normally would be fine but with a storm of this magnitude… and he spent a lot of energy placing me in my armor. It made him weak."

When the portrait opened again there were a pile of students waiting on the other side. They must have followed them, wondering about their professor or at least their class. They probably didn't know if their class was cancelled or just delayed but they seemed to have gotten their answer now. Their eyes were wide in shock as they saw Alphonse come out with their professor wrapped in his arms. Edward looked pale and Alphonse knew he looked terrible but he ignored the students concerns and started towards the Hospital Ward.

"What are you doing here? Class is cancelled! Give them some space!" Minerva scolded the students before she hurried after him and pointed him down the correct hallway. Alphonse heard three sets of footsteps behind him and only took a second to glance back to see the three Gryffindor students Edward was always griping about.

"Professor, is he going to be alright?" Harry asked curiously.

"He is going to be fine, Potter. He's just ill. Nothing a potion can't fix…. A very strong potion," she added hesitantly. Suddenly Edward turned in Alphonse's hold and he nearly lost his grip on him. He scrambled to catch him and haphazardly resituated him in his arms.

"Mr. Elric! Don't drop you brother! He's probably in enough pain as it is!" she scolded him. "You three, leave your professor be! Go mind yourselves. This doesn't concern you," she said turning to the three of them. Alphonse continue on his way as the professor shooed away her students. Edward was fidgeting now and Alphonse didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad one. At least he was conscious but he also knew that Edward needed his rest. He just didn't have the strength. He quickly turned into the hospital ward and looked around for the nurse. She was sitting in her office looking at some student whose face seemed to have broken out in boils. The instant she noticed them she dropped what she was doing and rushed over.

"Again?!” the nurse cried in exasperation. “For an immortal man, he’s already been here twice! What happened now, Mr. Mustang?” she asked. Though her voice was stiff and rigid, it was obvious she was flooded with concern. Her eyes were going over his brother in a calculative motion as if she was running through an encyclopedia of ailments and their treatments just to pluck the right ones from the vaults.

"I am Alphonse," he corrected her quickly, not wanting to waste time on introductions. "Brother's sick from the storm, but he can't fight it this time-"

"I will get some potions ready for him-"

"You can't," Minerva interrupted as she entered the ward after chasing off the nosy gryffindors. "Poppy, please just make him comfortable. I will get Severus to make him some stronger potions. Just tell me what you think he needs." As Poppy gave the Transfigurations professor a list of potions that could help Alphonse took his brother over to one of the white linen beds ready for a new patient. He knew how much Edward hated hospitals, but he hoped that he would be able to forgive him this time around for taking him to one, as well for what he did. As he set him down his brother stirred again, opening one of his eyes weakly. The golden irises portrayed pain and Alphonse knew it wasn't just physical pain from his automail that was making him feel like that. A wave of guilt crashed through him like a tidal wave and Alphonse nearly retracted from him it was just too much.

"Al?" he moaned lightly.

"Everything's alright brother, I brought you to the medical ward. It's going to be alright," Al reassured him, hoping that some of his words might calm himself down as well. Edward's eye closed but his automail arm reached up slowly, shaking all the way, and hit him lightly on the chest plate.

"Y-you idiot," Edward muttered, nothing above a whisper. His metal arm collapsed quickly under its own weight as Edward couldn't keep it moving under the pressures of the storm and Alphonse quickly moved it back to his side hoping to make him more comfortable.

"Brother, I am sorry. I-I didn't mean to-"

"I kn-know," he shivered out. "You are m-my little brother, Al. I-I know." Alphonse could almost feel a weak smile play across his armored face. How he wished he could really truly smile again, and cry again, but for the sake of his brother, seeing the result of his over excitement, he needed to wait. At least he knew he would always have such a forgiving brother, even after something so careless.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 8

The Answer

Edward stumbled out of the Hospital Ward a few days after the storm had passed. Madame Promfrey had taken a couple extra days to shove a few more potions down his throat against all of his complaints, but then again he wasn't complaining too hard. The more days he spent bored in bed, the fewer days he had to teach his stupid class. The students were practically knocking down the doors to the Hospital Ward trying to get him to come back to class. Several of them thought that they had figured out the first law of alchemy or were begging him to come back to teach them. Alphonse had taken over his job of teaching the current Organic Chemistry class and it seemed that they didn't like it. Though Alphonse was a wonderful teacher, one thing that wizards would never be good at was alchemy and organic chemistry. Lucky for him though, Poppy managed to chase off all of the students to give him peace and quiet for the rest he needed.

"I wasn't that bad of a teacher," Alphonse pouted as Edward made his way towards his chambers ignoring the crowd of students who were shuffling their way to their own dormitories for the evening. It was getting late and curfew was almost upon them. If the students didn't run, Edward knew that they wouldn't make it. Edward chuckled lightly at his brother's disappointment.

"To the best of my knowledge you seemed to be doing perfectly fine judging by the student's reactions. With organic chemistry if it's anything less than throwing one's self out the window it's a good year," Edward smirked causing a small chuckle from his brother.

“Well, even if they didn’t learn anything, I got the book finished and copied. McGonagall was nice and helped me,” Alphonse told him. It seemed that Alphonse had taken a liking to the head of Gryffindor house. Minerva was one of the few people at Hogwarts Edward tolerated. Though she was very strict, she cared. Which was more than he could say for half of the people in the entire world. He found himself smiling. He was glad that Alphonse had made a new friend, though Edward himself wouldn’t go as far as to call her that. However, his brother’s time with the professor now was limited. He had returned to the stone just the previous evening. He was very disappointed, but Edward promised his little brother that he would be back out soon enough.

Edward made his slow ascent up the grand staircase and into the corridor where his portrait laid. The torches were lit as nightfall darkened the stone halls and made an eerie sight. Edward knew that witches and wizards were into the bizarre but he wondered why none of them invested in lights. Candle light is not good on the eyes.

“Professor!” he heard young voices shout behind him. Edward turned around to see a couple Ravenclaw students racing up the corridor towards him. They must have checked his classroom to find that he wasn’t there as they seemed to hope to catch him. Edward glanced at his pocket watch, reminding himself how late it was. If it was like anything when he went to school, students should have been in their dormitories by now unless they want to seek out a detention. He knew because he would often try and adventure around the castle in the evenings, trying to read more books from the library. He was caught many times, a few of which were from Professor Ravenclaw herself. If any teacher caught these two students this late at night they would be in huge trouble.

“You are a teacher,” Roy reminded him like he was an idiot. Edward slapped his hand to his face in his stupidity as the students screeched to a halt in front of him.

“Professor!” one of them said stiffly, the determination shining through their eyes like fire. They were the students he had turned away in the Great Hall. He still felt horrible after seeing their hurt expressions when he had scolded them. However, Edward now was a little taken back as he saw how single minded they were. They came here for a reason and he doubted that they would leave without their issue being resolved even if he refused like before.

“We think we have the answer-”

“And we are going to get it right!” Edward glanced in surprise between the two Ravenclaws as they absolutely refused to budge. They wanted this more than anything. They wanted to learn alchemy even if it meant getting detention just to answer a stupid riddle.

“We wanted to learn alchemy even if it meant dying on an island,” Alphonse reminded him quietly. Edward grinned. If they wanted this that bad, like they wanted it so long ago, he didn’t see any harm in letting them try.

“Alright, let me hear it,” Edward said, awaiting the Ravenclaw’s answers. They looked at each other in surprise for a second as if they were expecting to be turned away again. However, it didn't take any longer for them to dive into their answer.

“You were right, we had it wrong to begin with. We don’t know how you knew but you knew!” one of them said absolutely filled with excitement.

“But it is so simple now!” the other one exclaimed. “All is One and One is All. Everything is made up of one thing which then makes up everything-”

“The world’s materials are recycled like explained in the conservation of mass! Which means that when one thing dies, another thing is created from it.”

“And in conclusion?” Edward awaited them to finish their answer. The two Ravenclaws stuttered for once looking at each other nervously. They had it but now Edward was asking them to sum it up simply. One thing that Ravenclaws always found it hard to do, especially Edward, was to simplify something. They took a small moment and then a light bulb seemed to turn on, flicking questionably above their heads.

“We are one….” the one said hesitantly.

“And the world is All,” the other finished a little more firmly. Edward smirked as he nodded his head. The two students cheered excitedly as they got it right. They were the first. Edward was amazed that it had only been a few days, but he guessed that the students not having to fight for survival had more clear heads to think and study with than what he and Alphonse had on Yock Island.

“I will write your names down on the list tomorrow morning when I get back to the classroom. Hopefully some more of your classmates figure it out. I trust that you won’t tell them and let them have the joy of figuring it out for themselves?” Edward said raising an eyebrow at them warning them lightly of the consequences. They nodded their heads furiously just so happy that they got it right. They turned around to leave and Edward almost did the same when he snapped his fingers remembering something off of the top of his head.

“Oh, yeah! You two!” he called out pointing his finger at the two celebrating students. They turned around curiously wondering what their professor wanted. “Detention with me Saturday. Get back to your dorms before I make it the whole weekend.” The happy faces of the students dropped as they only took one glance at each other and sprinted down the hallway back towards their tower. Edward grinned evilly with the joy of having exploited his power as a professor.

“You are just loving this aren’t you?” Alphonse asked sarcastically as Edward turned back towards his chambers. He opened the portrait door and walked in, relieved to be back in his own bedroom after his extended stay in the hospital ward.

“I would too if I were him,” Roy admitted.

“For a man with a god complex this must be second nature for you,” Edward commented sharply as he started to unbutton his shirt to get ready for the night. His comment was a rough retort as Mustang pushed his buttons but it came as a second nature to him. They have been bickering for over a thousand years. He would list a million quips off the top of his head.

“I will have you know that it is the strongest leaders who know exactly how much power they wield.”

“So that’s why you were only a Colonel. Now I understand,” Edward teased, making the man even redder. He draped his shirt off the back of the couch, too lazy to take it to the laundry basket where it belonged. He then proceeded towards the bathroom to commence his evening rituals of brushing his teeth and cleaning himself up. He was relieved to finally be doing it himself since Madam Promfrey didn't allow him to leave his bed for extended periods of time until she knew that his stomach was bloated with potions. She would often clean him up with a flick of her wand, much to his own humility.

Now, Edward relaxed with a sigh and a mouthful of frothing toothpaste as his mind wandered back to the answered question that was the riddle. He had his doubts about the students answering it but now he couldn't help but smile in pride as they were finally understanding alchemy. The two Ravenclaws’ answer renewed a small spark of excitement in him. Alchemy! He finally had someone new to talk about alchemy to. The questions he could ponder, the new ideas he could share. Even though the students didn't know an ounce of the science yet, he got giddy even with the idea of them being interested in the subject. He had an endless amount of topics to talk about, all of which he had nearly exhausted with everyone in the stone. His excitement for science was probably the reason why he was placed into Ravenclaw house when he attended Hogwarts.

"Brother, you do know what this means right?" Alphonse asked him. "You are going to have to teach alchemy."

"Shit." Edward cursed remembering his half of the deal. He was too delighted to see that some wizards figured out the first law of alchemy. He was happy to be able to talk alchemy with other people even if it was only the basics. He hadn't been able to do that in the longest time. He got so caught up in it all that he forgot about what he had to do next.

"How am I supposed to teach half of the class alchemy? I don't even have a lesson plan out or anything!" Edward cried in frustration after spitting out the toothpaste in his mouth and rinsing his toothbrush under the hot water of the sink.

"There are only two of them," Hohenheim noted. "You can hold individual lessons for them until others join."

"Uggh, why did I get myself into this?" Edward groaned as he massaged his brow, going out into his living area. He really didn't want to teach. He was doing a half assed job already but he couldn't do that with alchemy. He wouldn't allow himself to. Chemistry was all paperwork, but alchemy…. If a student pretended to draw a wrong circle there could be serious consequences. If a student got the idea of a philosopher's stone in their head, there could be even worse. He had already tried teaching one wizard alchemy and that ended in horrible failure. What was he supposed to expect from teaching many classes?

"Not everyone is like Flamel, Edward,” he heard Roy remind him. “Besides, you didn't get yourself into this remember? It was Dumbledore's tricks that kept you here.” That comment soured Edward's mood even more as he collapsed down in the hard wooden chair at his desk. It was so completely different from his own chair back home, one that the headmaster of the school was keeping him from. He should send a letter to the Ministry of Magic and explain what was going on, but then the magical community would know of his presence and never leave him alone again. Not only that, but he feared that if he told the Ministry about this, he would only get tangled even farther into the war that was teetering on the edge of mass destruction. He didn't want a part in it. He never did. But there was no way of stopping Dumbledore without screwing himself over in the end.

"Such a simple stupid trick. A child could get out of it if they had a wand," Edward muttered. It was at this moment and this moment only that he regretted burying his wand in Carmarthen, Wales. He knew the exact location even though he knew the forest to be long gone and replaced by a village. With such detail he imagined himself going there, unrooting his wand from beneath Merlin's own oak and casting the counter spell over himself to free him of Dumbledore's nasty trick. That plan was farfetched in many senses. The tree that had been Merlin's own grave was long gone, and probably paved over in the street. Not only that, but retrieving his wand required him to leave the castle which was the whole reason he had imagined that journey in the first place.

“We need to figure out a way to get Dumbledore’s wand. His might work-“

“Or it might not,” Edward grumbled, cutting off his father’s plan. “Is it worth the risk trying a new wand if we don’t know it will work? The last time I used a wand that wasn’t compatible I almost leveled Diagon Alley. This building is packed full of students. It would be like a bomb waiting to happen-“

“Or it could be freedom.”

“A hundred of lives is something I am not willing to put to chance, Hohenheim,” Edward hissed at him. He knew his dad was not a careless person. When given a chance like that, even though he theorizes what could happen if he took the risk, if it put too many people in danger, he wouldn’t. However, that didn’t mean Edward appreciated talking about the idea of ‘what if’.

“You can always ask someone to put the counter spell on you,” Alphonse offered. Edward laughed sharply at the thought.

“Yeah, that would work. Ask the very people who want to keep me here. ‘Please, Mr. Dumblesnot, may I have the counter spell so I can go outside, breath fresh air, and ruin your elaborately stupid plans to keep me here?’ That would work very well,” Edward mocked sourly.

“Not all the professors know, Ed. I was talking to Professor McGonagall, and I don’t think she knows you can’t leave-“

“I thought she was buddy with Dumbledore,” Edward muttered, sitting up in his chair a little straighter as if getting ready to pounce on any opportunity that flew towards him. “She’s a head of house-“

“Apparently, it seems only Dumbledore and that creepy Slytherin guy know.” Edward found himself jolting out of his chair and sprinting around his room to jam his feet into his shoes. He needed to get to McGonagall as fast as he could. If she really didn’t know, maybe she could help him. If not her, Filius, Pomona, anyone else! He could leave. He could finally leave and-

“Brother, do you know how late it is?” Alphonse scolded him. Edward looked up at the large clock that stood against the wall. How Minerva ever managed to bring that back from his house, he would never know but he was grateful for it anyways. The delicate hands of the clock spread out over its surface in a way that read midnight. He didn’t even realize how late it got. It seemed like just a few minutes ago he was yelling at those Ravenclaws to get back to their dorms. He shook his head and finished jamming his foot into his shoe.

“I don’t care how late it is! We can finally get out of here!”

“Edward, I don’t think that anyone waken up at this hour would want to help you. Besides, you need your sleep as well. We can leave in the morning when you are rested.” Edward bit his lip in aggravation and stared at the door to the hallway. The chance of beating Dumbledore was right in front of him all he had to do was convince one of the headmaster’s own teachers to cast the spell on him. But, if he blew it, he was still going to be trapped there. It was better taking negotiations with caution like Alphonse said. Edward let out a relenting groan as he kicked his shoes off and fell back on his bed.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Tomorrow, for sure.”

“For sure.”

…………..

After taking a quick bath and getting dressed in a fresh shirt and slacks, Edward braided his hair and took a slow stroll towards the Great Hall to get some breakfast. It was an early morning and very quiet. He barely saw anyone around aside from the early rising professors who were also prepping for their days classes. Edward yawned tiredly as he entered the Grand Staircase. He was on a mission to find Minerva and to get free. Even early in the morning, Edward found himself excited and energized as he pictured walking straight out of the castle and into the outside world he has been missing for weeks. He was going to stuff Albus’ smug grin straight up the man’s ass where it belonged. He pictured everything lining up for a wonderful day just to hear the worst sound in the world.

"Ah, Edward, there you are my young fellow!" Gilderoy Lockhart chimed as the man sudden popped from around the corner. The instant he saw the man’s chipper face, Edward knew he was going to have a bad day. The only acknowledgement that Edward was willing to give Gilderoy was a short second glare before he continued to walk down the hall. Unfortunately the idiot didn't take it as a sign to bugger off and started to walk alongside him.

"Edward you haven't been in my class to help assist me with the lessons for quite a few days now-"

"I was in the hospital ward," Edward noted only to have been ignored.

"-so I decided to take it upon myself to give you a little project of my own," the man hummed eagerly. Before Edward knew it he was getting a copy of Gilderoy's new book on herbology shoved into his gut. Edward looked down to the copy of the newest best selling novel and saw that it held Gilderoy's curvy signature written on the cover in gold ink. "Could you take this to Pomona as a little present? I was so grateful for her letting me teach one of her herbology classes that I couldn't let that act go unaccounted for."

"I can't-" Edward started to argue but when he looked up the only thing he saw was Gilderoy speeding away, his robes billowing in the breeze. Edward growled under his breath. After Gilderoy nearly crushed Sprout by helping her with the whomping willow, the only thing that the woman wanted to do with the man was punch him in the face. It appeared that Gilderoy was trying to smooth things over with her but as his teaching assistant, Edward was made the middle man. If the man would have only listened to him, he would have learned that giving it to a person who couldn’t leave the castle was not an efficient way to get the book to the greenhouses. Maybe after meeting up with Minerva he could stop by Pomona’s greenhouses on his way off Hogwart’s grounds.

Cursing angrily at his misfortune, Edward continued to stomp his way down to the Great Hall. He had half a mind to kick the stupid book all the way there and that was the half of his mind that he agreed with. He punted the text book down the Grand staircase, he skidded it across the entrance hall, and threw it through the open doors of the Great Hall, cursing Gilderoy's existence every step of the way. By the time he got there, the book was looking worse for wear as its binding was nearly falling off the spine and its pages were creased and torn. Though anyone would be disturbed by the book's state, he knew Pomona would throw it right to her venomous tentacula for it to tear apart.

Even with the distraction of Gilderoy, Edward was still early to breakfast. When he entered the Great Hall he found that it was nearly empty. A lot of the students were not even awake and and the professors were slowly flowing in. Edward scanned the High Table desperately in search of Minerva but unfortunately found her spot vacant of life which was odd since she was usually an early riser. He had hoped that his mission to get freed would have been as simple as meeting her in the Great Hall, but his plans never turned out the way they were supposed to. Now he was standing in a near empty hall without a direction aside from an errand that he knew he could not complete. If only Gilderoy would have listened, even though it was not like most of the faculty even knew about his detainment anyways.

With a huge aggravated sigh, he stormed his way up to the High Table to where Severus was still sitting, taking his time in finishing his soup as he read an untitled book in his hand. Edward dropped the heavily beaten novel on the table right in front of Severus, startling the man out of his wits. The dark eyes of the potions master scanned the ungodly cover of Gilderoy's defaced book and glanced up at him, a curious expression glossed across his face.

"Edward, I understand that you have probably read every book in the Hogwart's Library, and have driven Pince mad because of it, but I would have never imagined the Eastern Sage to stoop so low as to pick up one of Gilderoy's books to read," the man commented as he turned his attention back to the pages of his own book.

"I need to take this to Pomona. Gilderoy wants to give it as a present of gratitude and if I don't get it to her he'll be talking my ear off all night-"

"It should stop within a few days then the crazy man will find something else to jabber on about," Severus told him as if nothing bored him more.

"I am stuck in this bloody castle, please don't tack on torture as well," Edward huffed tiredly. “Where is Minerva? I need to talk with her. It is important.”

“Minerva? Why are you so eager for a conversation with her?” Severus asked, his interest finally spiked for something. Edward glared at him angrily. Out of all the people he could tell, that man was not one of them. He had helped Dumbledore trap him in the castle. If he told him why he wanted to talk to Minerva, he might as well be sealing himself in the brick of the castle.

“None of your fucking business,” he retorted sharply. “Where is she? She is usually here by now.”

“She’s gone into town for the day. Running some errands.” It took all of Edward’s strength not to curse out loud, even then he had failed Severus withdraw as he let obscenities fly out of his mouth. He had waited the evening to meet with McGonagall and she was gone? She was his one ticket out of Hogwarts and she wasn’t even there anymore! He cursed till the point that his brother began to scold him.

“Brother! Not in front of the students!” he warned him as the first couple of blurry eyed Hufflepuffs filed into the Great Hall.

“Yeah? Well now we are stuck here for even longer because I didn’t go when I could! All I want to do is go outside! What’s so wrong about that?” Edward whined in Amestrian as he buried his face in his hands. Severus, seeing his frustration, raised his eyebrow at him. His glower seemed to harden. He still didn’t understand what Edward was talking about but he seemed to catch onto what he wanted.

“Elric, if this is has anything to do against the headmaster I need to tell you that it would never work,” he grumbled to dampen any more of Edward’s spirits that were left. “However, it isn’t like your efforts have really been that strong anyways.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Edward barked. He felt the anger grow in him and his face flushed red.

“You are the Eastern Sage. You have the philosopher’s stone, yet your attempts are summed up as you trying your best to kick down the spell’s barrier. For an ancient wizard I expected a bit more,” he said.

“I am not a wizard,” Edward seethed. “And my reasonings for not using it are perfectly justified. I will not use it for my own gain. Too many lives have already been lost because of it.” Severus’ eyes widened a fraction of an inch but the man didn’t say anything more about it. The potion’s master did not understand what the stone was or what it did and he was the last person Edward wanted to mention anything about it to. Seeing as he was not going to say anything else, Edward grabbed Gilderoy’s stupid book off of the table and turned to leave. “I will get out of here eventually, Severus, and then you will realize yours and Albus’ mistake.”

Edward stormed towards the doors of the Great Hall. This morning really was starting to piss him off. He would just have to show Severus up and get out of there as soon as he could so he could rub his success in the man’s greasy face. However, Minerva was out and unless he could find someone else willing to cast the counterspell on him he was doomed to wait. He had considered a few of the other faculty members who obviously did not know, but he had never actually talked to them before. He was not on good terms with most of them and some of the staff actually were afraid of him. Minerva was the only person there that he had actually sat down and enjoyed talking to. He doubted many of the other professors would help or even care about his entrapment.

“Brother, you can’t assume that,” Alphonse sighed as Edward walked towards the doors of the Entrance Hall to wait for the other faculty to flow in for breakfast. He crossed his arms and leaned his back against the invisible barrier in front of the door to rest.

“Sometimes it is better to live in reality than to build false hope of something better,” Edward muttered back to his brother, obviously disappointing him but he continued with a smirk, “I would prefer to be surprised every now and then.”  

Edward looked over his shoulder and took a huge breath of the damp morning air. He could see the dew drops on the grassy lawn and how they shimmered in the sun. Even at the large front doors to the castle, he could not see the colors of the painted sunrise because they faced west but the view this door to the outside provided was still better than the one the courtyard did. The four stone walls that surrounded the small green was the only thing he could see whenever he went outside. It was just another reminder of his imprisonment. However, sometimes, in the evenings, Edward would wander down to the Entrance Hall and watch the sunset fall over the hills of Scotland. Though he could not go outside, Edward felt better about not missing something as naturally beautiful as that.

Just as Edward felt himself start to relax, someone who was rounding the castle on the outside almost ran into him as they entered the Entrance Hall.

“Oof!” the short and stubby figure of Pomona Sprout exclaimed as she ran into him. Her entire face was splotched with dirt and soil and Edward had to guess that if her hair was not so wildly tucked up into her witching hat that it would have been covered as well. Her large welcoming eyes shot up to his face to see who she ran into. The instant they caught sight of him a warm smile spread on her face and she opened her arms to him. Edward was not prepared.

“Edward!” Pomona Sprout exclaimed with her chipper voice as she pulled him into a hug. Edward felt all of his muscles tense up as she did so, as his body seemed to have forgotten what a hug was. “It is so good to see you back up and walking! You nearly drained all of my greenhouses and Severus’ stores for those pepper-up potions. I was just outside tending to the mandrakes. It is a good thing we got some fresh seedlings in this semester for my second-year class.”

“Oh… uh… sorry,” Edward replied hesitantly as she released him from her firm hug. He didn’t know how to respond. It seemed that she was concerned for his wellbeing the last few days he was out. He had barely talked to her over the weeks that he was there aside from when Gilderoy had almost crushed her with the whomping willow. Edward did not know where her worry had come from. He was very overwhelmed by the sudden concern that he took a step back from the woman. He wasn’t so used to having so much attention on him, especially in social situations.

“It has been a while since I saw you. Without your brother giving us updates, I would have thought you up and left the castle for good!” Pomona chuckled. Edward felt his face flush red as his jaw dropped in disbelief.

“Alphonse?” he hissed towards his brother. He could almost feel the smug smile on Alphonse’s face.

“They were nice. You should talk to them more,” was all his brother did to defend himself.

“I… I didn’t think…anyone would worry about me…” Edward tried to stumble, even more baffled than before. Seeing how flustered he was, Pomona grew a worried expression on her face.

“What? I know I have barely shared many words with you, what being so secluded in the castle all of the time and I down at the greenhouses, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry for another professor here at Hogwarts. Minerva was dreadfully concerned after finding you in your rooms a few days ago. She would bug me over tea about how the new herbs were growing and if we had enough to make more potions. I said I did, but you would be better off having drank a cup of herbal tea once a day. Keep you nice and healthy so this type of thing doesn’t happen,” the herbologist started to blabber on and on. It seemed that she had loved to talk but Edward… did not mind. Her cheery conversation soothed his spouting anxiety, even though he was still left on guard. It was so strange hearing concerns from the other faculty. It almost felt unnatural. No one cared about what happens to him. It was unheard of except maybe in Professor McGonagal with whom he had only had limited conversation with. Edward found himself taking another step back trying to suppress his urge to run away from the odd feeling.

“What’s so odd about it?” he heard Mustang ask him. Whenever the man asked him anything it always sounded like he was being scolded. “These people seem to care for you. There is nothing unnatural about it.”

“I.. I feel like it is a trick,” Edward whispered to Mustang in Amestrian. Pomona was carrying on a long-winded conversation on a healthy diet and preventive medicine. She seemed genuine in her fairly one-sided talk but for some reason Edward was skeptical. “It has to be a trick. No one on this side of the gate…” he faltered. He remembered their previous conversation in the Headmaster’s Office about Minerva taking an unwarranted trip to his house. It was out of her own generosity to make that journey for him. He was shocked beyond belief to find out about it. If she could make that huge trip just to recover some old shirts, was it so hard to believe that other professors might be able to show at least minimal amount of concern for his health?

 Edward covered his mouth for a second as he tried to hold onto his wits. He felt himself get emotional and he especially did not want that at that moment.

“Oh dear, are you okay?” Pomona asked him as he caught him standing very quiet and emotionally compromised. Edward tried to choke down the lump in his throat to answer her.

“Th-thanks,” he croaked as he attempted to regain himself. He cleared his throat and put on something he assumed was a smile. He felt like he hadn’t done it in ages so it was difficult to tell. “I-I am fine, wonderful actually. Thank you.” Seeing him smile had put one on Pomona’s own face and she grinned happily back at him and gave him a light pat on the arm.

“Oh! What do you have there?” she asked as she caught sight of the book he was carrying. Edward looked down at it and unfortunately had to catch sight of the author’s horrendous picture on the back. He closed his eyes and groaned as he handed it off to her.

“As Lockharts ‘geongra’ he wanted me to give this to you as an apology,” Edward muttered as she took the book.

“Geongra?” she asked curiously as she carefully removed her wand from her robes. Edward slapped himself in the face as he realized he had accidentally said it in old English. Swapping conversation back and forth between the people in the stone and in the real world was really messing up his language division.

“Assistant. Sorry, old English,” he told her which seemed to peak her curiosity as she casually casted the conflagration spell on the book she was so honorably gifted without second thought. Edward smirked as he watched all of the narcissistic pages turn to ash and fall to the floor. Even the amazing Lockhart could not fight the wrath of the Herbology teacher.

“I have no idea what Albus was thinking making you his assistant. Not even the Eastern Sage could help save that man’s class from ruin,” she sighed. “Well, why don’t we go get some breakfast. You look mighty pale and I bet some pumpkin juice will pick you right up!” she hummed as she took him by the elbow and began to waddle her way towards the Great Hall. Edward found himself pulling back as he really did not want to go back in there and face Severus again. Not until he was able to show something for it. Seeming to sense his hesitation she stopped.

“Did you already eat breakfast?” she asked him. He didn’t know what else to do aside nod his head. She looked down heartened at the answer. “I guess we could always talk over tea then if you have other things to do. You should come down to the greenhouses this afternoon for a nice cup of tea. I was going to invite Rubeus over as well. I think it would be nice to catch up-“

“I can’t,” Edward stopped her quickly. She looked hurt at the sudden decline in her offer but did not argue with him. He felt awful but there wasn’t anything he could do. She worked and nearly lived her entire year in the greenhouses outside while he was stuck inside. Even if he wanted to talk some more he could not. Not without Minerva casting the counter spell on him.

“You can ask her,” Alphonse suggested instead of approving Edward’s idea to wait and sulk for Minerva to come back. It was worth a shot. Unless Severus or Albus had gotten to most of the staff already and told them not to help him, anyone might be able to cast the counter spell on him.

“Ah, do you mind if I ask you something first?” Edward asked her, picking up the fallen conversation from where it was dropped so suddenly.

“Of course!” she chirped, her spirits lifting.

“I wanted to ask for Minerva to do this but do you think you might help me instead?” Edward asked her, following his brother’s suggestion. The woman raised her eyebrow curiously. It was obvious she was curious as to the favor but she was not a cold hearted woman and nodded her head in acceptance. “Would you be able to cast the counter detainment spell on me?” Pomona looked taken back as if she was not expecting that at all. It wasn’t often that professors ask you to shoot a spell at them.

“Did you charm yourself on accident?” she asked him.

“N-no. Someone else did it. It’s a simple spell but the issue is that I don’t have a wand,” Edward explained to her. “I had given up magic about 700 years ago and though alchemy is great, it can’t get me out of a little detainment charm.”

“Seven hundred years without magic? Well even if you did have a wand I would believe you would be mighty rusty at it!” Pomona chuckled nervously as even she seemed to have forgotten exactly how old he really was. He looked to be only about 18 years old which definitel gave an illusion of age. He often reminded Gilderoy of his age but he did not seem to care aside from outward appearances and continued to treat him like a teenaged student.

“Who detained you here, Mr. Elric? Was it a student?” she finally asked after the short shock dispersed. Edward opened his mouth to answer her truthfully. It would have been wonderful to let the staff of Hogwarts know just how horrible their Headmaster was. However, before he could even start to say the bastard’s name, heavy hands landed on his shoulder and silenced him.

“Mr. Elric, I need to have a word with Professor Sprout here. Do you mind giving us a few moments?” the chipper voice of Albus Dumbledore twittered behind him. Edward growled and glared at the man, ripping his shoulders out of his grasp.

“No, you fucking asshole! I am talking to her and you better wait your goddamned turn or else I’ll-“

“All I need is a few moments. I know you are a busy man and you must have a lot of paperwork built up over the few days you were out. It might be smart to catch up on that,” the man suggested. Pomona looked rather ruffled from Edward cursing out the headmaster but did not ask questions. She seemed to respect the Headmaster which was an issue as Edward was trying to convince her to go against his orders. With the look in Albus’ clever eyes, it was obvious he had just pulled the first errand that he thought of in order to interrupt Edward’s pursuit of freedom. The man was now preparing to warn Pomona to not cast the counterspell on him. Edward doubted he would tell her the truth on the reasoning however. Edward fumed as he glared at Dumbledore with all of his might. He did not want to be silenced.

“Albus,” he breathed heavily, “I am fucking warning you.”

“We all know what you can do, Master Elric,” the man hummed dangerously. “However, If you wanted to do anything, you probably would have done it by now.” After finishing that curt statement, the elderly man took the herbology professor gently by the arm and led her away for a light conversation about the Eastern Sage’s future at Hogwarts. Edward was left standing there, biting his lip with no words left in him. He did not know how to retort to the headmaster’s statement probably because it was so brutally true. If he could have, he would have escaped by now. If he wanted to destroy the castle, he would have. He had spent a few weeks in the castle already. Why was he still stuck there?

“Fullmetal, it is because you are good human being.” Roy’s voice was strong and made the statement feel almost reassuring.

“How so?” he muttered half mindedly, still staring towards where the headmaster had disappeared with the herbology professor to seal his fate with the rest of the staff.

“Because destroying the castle would be putting all of the students inside of it in danger. You would not do that.” Edward closed his eyes and sighed tiredly. No, he couldn’t do that. The students didn’t know about his feud with their headmaster. Hell, even if it came down to it as much as Edward threatened to kill the man, he wouldn’t hurt Albus given the chance. He had killed enough people in his life, specifically in the Crusades he was forced to fight in. One life was too many and he was already passed that by miles. If he decided to level Hogwarts for the sake of freedom, all of the students, staff, and creatures better get out before he did so and that would never happen. Albus knew that.

Edward felt his feet collapse out from underneath him as he sat down on the steps of the Entrance Hall. As he sat there he could hear the beads in the hourglasses fall as students and faculty mulled about the year as normal, earning points and learning classes. They walked around care free, while the fate of Edward’s entire country rested on his shoulders for the past thousand years. If Edward could really sit back and enjoy normal life like all of the students, maybe he would. But he had lived too long and seen too many things he no longer belonged in this life.

“What are you going to do?” Hohenheim asked him. His father was the last person he wanted to talk to, but he was also the only man who understood anything of what he was going through. But even he didn’t live as long as he. Edward shook his head tiredly as he stared at the swarm of students now filing down from the Grand staircase towards the Great Hall. Edward slowly stood up and began to walk off towards the staircase, not wanting to get caught amongst the hundreds of happy students who were blissfully unaware of their very short lives.

“I don’t know anymore,” he sighed tiredly. “I really don’t know.”

…..

Edward sat quietly in his office going over the pages and pages of homework that the students had turned in during his time in the hospital ward. There were piles of papers stacked up on his desk from the various assignments that his brother assigned. After avoiding teaching for so long he forgot that eventually he would have to actually do some work. However, he now felt like he was forced into the role of professor even though he did not fit there. He had not held a stationary life in forever on the run after Flamel. Staying put in the castle for an entire year doing paperwork was not normal for him. It was putting a round peg into a square hole and Dumbledore was the one forcing it through.

Edward sighed tiredly as he mindlessly flipped through the homework. He had been reading the same line over and over again as his mind began to wander on other things, mainly going outside. Not wanting to think about it, he picked up another of the many stacks of paper and dragged it closer to him thinking that maybe a different assignment might help him focus more. Taking up the fountain pen he had mail ordered with a few sickles from his paycheck, Edward started to grade the assignments. They were very basic but even with Alphonse’s wonderful teaching methods, most of the answers were wrong.

As the tedious work continued, Edward’s mind began to wander again back to the conversation he had with Pomona in the Entrance Hall. She had looked utterly shocked when she found out he was at odds with Dumbledore. Though she had expressed her care for him, he wondered if it would still be the same after she had found out exactly what was going on with him and the headmaster. He wondered if Minerva would still be the same towards him as well when she found out or if the entire faculty would become estranged as they picked Albus’ side. He had just began to feel more comfortable there as well and he had to ruin even that.

“Brother, it will be alright-“

“I hate to say it,” Edward muttered as he set down his pen and folded his arms over his desk, “but Helena was right. People do make things a little better.”

“Except Dumbledore that is,” Alphonse reminded him and Edward found himself smiling weakly at his brother’s light hearted comment.

“Yeah, except Dumbledore.” There was a swarm of sympathy building up inside of him as the people in the stone sent out their reassurances. The scale of emotion almost set Edward to tears before he had calmed them all down. He had not known what he had until it was torn out from underneath him. Now he was trapped here permanently in the castle watching the rest of the world going about their lives and enjoying them in the presence of other people while he was stuck in eternity alone, only with his bodiless friends to talk to. How much he yearned to get home and put them back in their proper bodies. He wanted to give them their lives back. He wanted to hug his brother and embrace his friends, but he had gone a thousand years without finding a way back. He doubted one year at Hogwarts would do any different.

There was a sudden knock on his classroom door and Edward looked at his watch to find that it was already nearing dinner time. He had worked through lunch and he held no afternoon classes that day to disrupt his work. He sighed as he pocketed the watch and beckoned the unknown person through his door. He had expected it to be Severus or even Lockhart, but the last person he expected there was Pomona herself. She looked small in the doorframe as she stood across the room obviously not wanting to disturb him.

“Edward, I was wanting to know if you still wanted to have tea this evening?” she asked him, catching him off guard. Edward was sure that the offer was no longer on the table since his outburst at Dumbledore. Maybe this was her own way of taunting him as he was trapped there and she knew it. He didn’t think that she would do that.

“I can’t,” he replied simply, not wanting to elaborate on the reason.

“Yes, Dumbledore told us about… well you can’t go outside. So we decided to bring it up here if that is alright,” she said nervously. Edward’s eyes widened as he saw Minerva had returned from her trip and was holding a rather nice tray of tea. Behind her was Filius holding a few plates of biscuits. It seemed even he liked a nice afternoon tea. Edward found himself standing up from his chair in shock.

“Uh.. yes, yes… um… come in… um chairs,” he fumbled, very baffled about the event. He ran about the room and cleared off one of the desks as the witches and wizards set down their trays of goods. As Edward picked up a few of the desk chairs so that everyone could sit down he felt his arms shaking as his anxiety went through the roof. He didn’t know what was going on with himself. He brought the chairs over to the table and the professors gratefully took them.

“Uh.. Umm… here,” he said as he set them down. His mind furiously ran through everything that he would need for tea but he was drawing a blank. Music? His records were back in his chambers. Food? He didn’t have any of that! He had never hosted anything before in his life. He didn’t know what to do.

“Edward, are you alright?” Filius asked him genuinely from the table. Edward bit his metal finger as he tried to come up with an appropriate answer. Why was he drawing a blank?

“Calm down Edward. It is just tea,” he heard Winry scold him light heartedly. He heard the smile in her voice and it seemed to calm him even a fraction of the way. He took in a huge breath and weakly smiled back at the charm’s professor even as his heart was beating through his chest.

“Uh… yes, yes… I am just… well I never… no ones done this… before,” he finished hesitantly. The three professor’s eyes widened and they glanced at each other for a brief moment before turning back to him.

“No one?” Pomona asked as if someone coming over for tea was so natural of a thing. In reality it was. Edward shook his head, unable to find the words he wanted to say.

“I understand you are a bit nervous socializing, Edward, but it is perfectly fine,” Minerva explained as she seemed to remember their talk earlier in the semester in her classroom. He guessed that Alphonse probably talked to her as well while he was in the hospital ward.

“Yes,” his brother admitted guiltily. Edward found himself taking one of the chairs at the crowded desk where a tea cup was set up and poured. The wafting steam from the tea smelled of sweet herbs and he knew that it was Pomona’s own brew that she had been talking relentlessly about earlier. He picked up the delicate porcelain cup gently but still found his hand to be shaking horribly so he put it back down with a clatter.

“I thought,” Edward muttered, wanting to break the awkward silence he had created, “I thought that Dumbledore had explained to you all why we were fighting.”

“Oh yes, he did,” Pomona answered. “He said that you were rather reluctant to stay in the castle but the detainment charm was on the portion of the philosopher’s stone that was here. He is going to give it to you at the end of the year but until then…” Pomona finished hesitantly. Edward nodded his head knowing that it was true even though the malicious intent of Dumbledore was still left out.

“Would you be able to help me leave then?” Edward asked hopefully but unfortunately his spirit was crushed as they all shook their heads.

“We are sorry, Edward, but we trust Dumbledore very much and as much as I would love to help you if Albus suggests not to, I trust his oppinion,” Filius answered.

“I understand,” he mumbled in reply. He guessed that he really was stuck there for the rest of the year. A warm hand rested on his shoulder and he looked over to see Minerva sitting there next to him with an apologetic smile on her face.  

 “I know we have not been very open to you so far this year, but we wanted to tell you that if you needed anything, you could ask us. You have been by yourself for so long I think it is time that you had some company,” Minerva explained. Edward looked at her and then to the two other professors who seemed to all have a genuine compassion shimmering in their faces. They were very much offering their friendship even though they could not offer his freedom. Edward felt the ice that had surrounded his heart for so long shatter in a million pieces as the loneliness he had felt for the last several hundred years melted away. He bit his lip not wanting the tears to come but even then there was no holding them back. Here he was, Paracelsus the great Eastern Sage, crying in font of some Hogwarts professors as he was shown some decent human kindness. Through his sobbing he muttered words of gratitude which he hoped came out comprehensible or else he probably would have just looked like an utter fool. He had not had a friend outside of the stone since Sir Nicholas 700 years ago. He had imagined the world to be cold and cruel since then. Now, as the professors were chuckling a little bit at his sudden burst of emotion and trying their best to make him feel better, he realized it was not the world, it was just him.

“This year might not be so bad for him after all,” Edward heard Alphonse whisper to Roy inside the stone amongst the chaos.

“It might be alright.”

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter Nine

Painting the Past

Edward had spent much of the evening with the other professors. After he managed to calm down they talked about a great many things such as classes, the founders, and even a bit about Alphonse who they all have managed to meet at one time or another. As they talked about how he was teaching his classes, most of them adverse to his teaching methods, he was happy to tell them that he was going to start alchemy lessons very soon as the students were finally solving the riddle they needed. It seemed to make all the professors excited that he was finally diving into his classes. He wanted to correct them that it was actually the students who had gotten the first law correct and therefore were diving into their classes, but it did not matter. He would be teaching alchemy. As much as he hated the fact that he was being forced to do it by the headmaster, Edward found himself a bit excited to become really engaged in alchemy again even if it was just the basics.

Now, sitting in his organic chemistry class he had handed the newly copied textbook to the students who had passed and was currently talking to them about their private lessons. He was making a schedule for the two Ravenclaws right when a few other students crowded around his desk. He looked up to see prophecy child and his two friends with him.

"What?" he asked though a little too stiffly as the three of them jumped back from his desk.

"Professor, we don't want to learn chemistry. We want to learn alchemy," Weasley stated simply. The kid was holding his unfinished organic homework and Edward understood his frustration. Out of all of his students, Weasley was the second worse at organic chemistry only above Draco Malfoy. He assumed that the only reason why he got at least one right on his last assignment was because Granger was helping him.

"If you want to learn alchemy you are going to have to figure out -"

"The first law," Granger finished his sentence. Edward closed his mouth and looked at the lot of them in surprise. Their confident smirks told him that they were ready to present him with their answer. "We know what it is, Professor."

Edward motioned to the two Ravenclaws to stay where they were and waved the few Gryffindors out of the classroom into the hallway to listen to their answer. It took a bit of round about explaining for them to get to the point but in the end all of them said it. The flow of life. Even Weasley got it. Edward had let the students run free after they gave them their free schedules so that he could write up a lesson plan. He only hoped that his classes would grow.

“Prophecy kid isn’t half bad,” he muttered to himself as he continued to sketch lesson plans in his notebook as he took a walk down the corridor after his class had let out. He had known Harry to be an average student, only a little better than Weasley academically though that might account for an intact wand. He had not expected the kid to get the first law so early in the semester. Though the kid worked together with his two friends, it was obvious to him that Granger, specifically, didn’t just give him the answer. He understood it a bit too well in his explanation for that. Edward couldn’t help but feel a little proud for the three Gryffindors.

“Here we thought you hated him,” Roy retorted light heartedly. Edward rolled his eyes.

“I don’t hate the nosy brat. He is just annoying when he decides to be. And him being caught up in all of that prophecy divinations bullshit is not helping his paranoia out,” he replied as he looked down at his lesson notebook and made another marking on it. “Maybe the three of them should have been Ravenclaws instead.”

“If that red head kid was a Ravenclaw you would kill him,” Roy said, noting how the kid was the last person to get excited about a class of any sort. Edward laughed as he knew that to be true. Maybe Weasley wouldn’t have done so well in Ravenclaw.

Edward walked around the castle by himself taking suggestions for lessons from the alchemists inside of the stone. The hallways were cleared of students during the class period so he was free to walk down it minding his own business. Unfortunately, with his nose in his book, he managed to run straight into the only person standing in the hallway. As he collided straight on, his notebook and pen were smashed to his chest, ink managing to spill all over his white shirt. Edward let out a few curses as his notebook dropped to the floor and he looked down at his messed-up shirt in dismay.

“Oh, Master Elric, what a wonderful coincidence,” he heard the false cheery voice of Dumbledore say. Edward glared up at the man, his cheeks puffed in rage.

“I don’t ever want to talk to you again unless it is to curse you with an unforgivable curse,” he hissed, his voice full of fire. Edward clapped his hands and touched his shirt to rid it of the ink that had stained it. Within seconds after the alchemic light had died down, his shirt was clean. Albus was watching him amused.

“I am glad to hear you teaching my students alchemy already. I heard that Harry and his friends just got into your class,” he said. Edward’s eyes widened as he looked back up at the headmaster. How the hell did he know that? He had just had class with the three Gryffindors. There was no possible way-

“I engage and inquire about the students performance,” Albus noted as he read his mind. “I simply asked young Harry how his class was going.”

“You care too much about this kid. You trap me here to be his ‘body guard’ for no apparent reason. Why go through all this trouble just to keep me here when you could get some other person with an actual wand to fill my place. Most of the faculty don’t agree with this you know,” Edward growled at him as he bent down and picked up the notebook he had dropped.

“Master Elric, it was not solely for Potter’s sake that you are here. Yes some might say I am killing two birds with one stone, but it is mostly for your own sake that I kept you here,” Albus told him.

“For my own sake? You are trapping me here against my will! I can’t even go outside let alone back to my house! I am a prisoner in disguise as a teacher!” Edward screeched at the man. “How the hell is this for my betterment?”

“You are looking too much at the present, and I feel you look even more at the past than what is healthy,” Albus told him. “The future might be dangerous, but I foresee you coming out on top of it all.” Edward scoffed at his words as he sounded too much like a fortune cookie for his likings.

“Yeah well, the bright future tends to disappoint me. It is better to be stuck in the present than keep my head in the clouds like you,” Edward muttered as he pushed past the headmaster roughly. He opened his notebook to continue where he left off when he heard the man call out to him again.

“Master Elric, I wanted to ask you to go to the library and take a few books to the Divinations professor Trelawney. She is working on a project and my weak bones cannot make it up those ladders as well as I used to.”

“Well you should have thought about that before becoming so damn old,” Edward sniped. He sent a glare at the headmaster who only gave him a small smile and a pleading look. Edward wanted to punch his face in and break his already crooked nose, but unfortunately his better side gave in on him. He knew he would come to regret doing any favors for the bastard. He growled and snapped his notes shut  before turning around in the hallway and walking back where he came.

“Fucking lazy ass bastard,” he huffed as he passed the man.

“Thankyou Master Elric, I very much appreciate it,” Dumbledore hummed sweetly. Edward really wanted to kill him.

Edward strolled through the castle until he reached the library. He wasn't in a rush now and knowing that he would have to climb an inconceivable number of stairs to get to his final destination, he would rather conserve his energy. Not only would he have to save his energy for the hike up the stairs, but he also knew that the fight with Madam Pince was going to be one hell of a battle. The librarian had a grudge against his use of the library and seemed to try and deter him from ever going there again. Though he had read every book in the castle already over his years and years of research, he still seemed to make a mess of the shelves. Alphonse had encouraged him to reread some of the old texts to get some inspiration. He imagined that something in those books would spark the answer on how to get home and they would be back in Amestris before the year was even over. Edward on the other hand, doubted it. He only thought rereading them would only give Pince another chance to clock him with an outrageously heavy copy of the new English dictionary.

"There is a strict rule that you aren't allowed in here," Edward heard the librarian greet him coldly. He rolled his eyes as he walked over to the desk and leaned casually against it, not taking offense to the woman's bout. After all, he was not allowed to go many places now that Albus had locked him in there.

"Hello Irma, still trying to get Dumblefart to agree to ban me from the library?" Edward asked tiredly and she scoffed at him, crossing her arms over her chest in an abrupt manner.

"What are you looking for this time? Maybe if you tell me I could go get them off the shelves to prevent you from tearing them apart."

"I read these books all before and still don't know what I want," Edward sighed. "I am not researching today. I just need to pick up a book for Professor Trelawney."

"The Art of Divinations and Painting the Future, very well," the woman hummed as she walked around her large circular desk to where she kept the on-hold books. There were very few books on hold for students as most books put on reserve were by teachers. Many of the professors here were attempting their own magical research and needed reference. Others were reserved by teachers so that they could use it in one of their classes. Either way, it wasn't that hard to know what book each teacher wanted.

Irma grabbed a rather large book from underneath the desk, looked at it once, then brought it over to the counter where Edward was waiting. She picked up her quill then made a few notes in her log about its leaving the library.

"Seeing the future might be easy, but I think Sybill has found her capability in art a little harder to handle," Irma hummed as she slipped a card in the front cover of the book and snapped it shut. She handed it to him and Edward grabbed it, bracing himself underneath its weight.

"It took me a few hundred years to paint well. Originally picked it up as a suggestion by my friend Armstrong as a form of stress relief. Proved more aggravating than calming especially with all of the masters I had to be under to even learn how to hold a paintbrush. If Trelawney's just learning how to paint it might take her ages to make the Mona Lisa. At least it took me a few hundred years to even make that little piece," Edward chuckled which strangely made the aggravated glare Irma wore since he walked in the library disappear lightly.

"Leonardo Da Vinci made the Mona Lisa," she noted like he didn't know that himself.

"Leonardo was the Mona Lisa. He made it my first portrait piece under his mentorship when I was trying to find fucking Flamel in Florence. His prideful god complex got so annoying that I drew him as a woman just to piss him off. Turned out to be amazing and of course the bastard took credit for it," Edward huffed but shrugged lightly as he said, "But that was a long time ago. It isn’t like I can change a history book without looking like a looney." When Edward first started to learn how to paint as Armstrong's attempt to get him to relax and pick up a hobby that wasn't researching, he was very bad at it. Like, really bad. Colors bended to brown and his people looked more like flat rectangles than actual human beings. He had to believe that his first attempts at art inspired expressionism. However, over the many years he learned how to paint and eventually became very good at it. He found himself respecting the art of painting and did it on occasion. Now that he thought of it, he would still do it if he had the supplies.

“Since you are going to be here in the castle, why not send an owl to get some paints? Make a new portrait for your chamber door,” Roy suggested. Edward scratched his chin thoughtfully. He did have a lot of money accumulated over the years and now was getting paid even more from teaching at Hogwarts against his will. The only issue was that he could not leave the castle to get an owl and did not own one himself. The only messages he had sent out was after a message was delivered to him first. Just as he was wondering where his last order was after requesting it a while back, he looked over to see Irma having a crisis of her own.

Though it was an innocent retelling of a personal story, the librarian seemed very taken back by it. She was a person who prided herself in history and Edward had told her that nearly all of the history books were wrong. He closed his mouth as he realized that something like that, though just a normal memory to him, might have been incomprehensible to someone who didn't live as long a life or understand that the history books only told the story that someone wanted them to say. As the librarian was now battling with a history crisis, Edward quickly said bye and whisked himself out of the library with the heavy book in tow. He would probably have to explain himself to her later, but as for that moment, he would rather not get caught in a longer conversation with the librarian.

Edward lugged the huge tomb up the stairs towards the north tower. The classroom was on the seventh floor all the way up and Edward cursed the wizards for not inventing some sort of lift. The muggles had wonderful technology to make stairs easier. Could the headmaster of Hogwarts not understand that a medieval castle with seven flights of winding stone steps be hurting one's health? At least their motivation to go anywhere.

Edward reached the top floor completely out of breath with Izumi Curtis scolding his ears off on how out of shape he has gotten. He rarely heard a word from the woman, but when he did it was a disaster. Looking around the corridor, he saw a silvery ladder hanging from the ceiling going up through a trapdoor. He walked over to it and gave a light tug on it hoping that it wouldn't fall under his weight with the book. Grappling with the ladder, he wondered how any of the students got up there for class. They sure carried more weight in their backpacks with all of the textbooks and scrolls that they needed to lug around. Maybe the fact that it was a pain in the neck to get up there, considering if you didn't break your neck first, that Trelawney picked that classroom to be hers to protect her 'mind's eye'.

With a huff, Edward tossed the huge book through the doorway and heard the thwump as it hit the wooden floor as he finished his ascent. He groaned as he tumbled through the latchway and found his footing on the dusty and dark entrance way of the classroom. He dusted his clothes off and picked up the book where it was carelessly thrown before making his way into the main body of the classroom where he assumed the professor would be. He hoped to find her and relieve himself of the books burden so the climb down the ladder wouldn't literally kill him.

"Brother, you can't die," Alphonse reminded him making Edward sigh.

"Maybe the fall from the tower might do the impossible."

The classroom was much brighter than the entranceway as natural sunlight snuck in through the stained glass windows and passed the thick tapestry curtains that covered them. Red and blue speckled lights flickered on the floor and cloth covered tea tables like gemstones. Edward breathed in the smell of incense and heard a tea kettle whistling over the small fireplace. Aside from obvious evidence of living, the room seemed to be abandoned.

"Hello? Professor?" he called out as he continued his journey through the room. He saw shelves of tea cups and kettles stacked up high alongside crystal orbs and star books. They were the tools of soothesayers but amongst them were piles and piles of paints and canvas, each covered in an odd mash of colors and blobs. Edward looked at a few of them and couldn't even begin to guess what they were supposed to be. He looked around and saw an easle propped up near the window, a can of paint lying haphazardly on its side, dripping a ghastly black mess to the floor. Edward sighed as he dropped the book on a nearby chair and walked over to pick up the mess. At least he wouldn't let some good paint go to waste. He grabbed the can and righted it, setting it down on the front of the easle. However, as he looked up from what he was doing he felt his blood run out of him as he came face to face with the professor's most recent creation.

Where all of the other paintings were undecipherable, this one was a plain as day. Dark oils looped and swirled around covering the entire canvas in the inky color. Only two circles laid untouched by the horrible night and showed a picture of a blood coated ruby crested sword looping through the circles. Someone might think it was an odd unfinished painting but the only thing that Edward saw was himself looking through the eyes of the iron mask.

He stumbled backwards, tripping over the small tray where all of the oils and pigments resided, tipping it to the floor. The colors splashed in a gory rainbow mess. Though the distracting colors began to soak into his robes Edward found himself unable to move as his eyes were locked on the horrifying painting. He felt the cool metal seep onto his skin as the paint soaked him through and the mask seemed to lock into place. He scrambled up off the ground, his clothes covered in the different dyes and started to sprint towards the entranceway. His heart beated in his chest, a stone cold rock about to shatter in a million pieces. He made it a couple steps before a bony hand came out of nowhere and latched itself around his wrist, bringing him to a halt. He wanted to plow the person in front of him over and continue his escape but he froze as he saw two large bug eyes staring at him with a small calm smile and a large amount of worry.

"Hello, Paracelsus, I knew you were coming and still had myself preoccupied in another crystal message," the woman's whimsical voice said, its smooth forte calming his nerves from wanting to jump out of the window. Her eyes, which looked like they were put underneath magnified glasses, were wide as they looked over his state. They glanced between him and her paints before acknowledging the link between them.

"Why were you leaving in such a rush, my dear? You don’t look so well," she asked him. "They're only paints-"

"I-I… it's nothing really. I just remembered that I have to-"

"Well before you go, why don't we get you cleaned up? Hmm? Paint isn't good to get on clothes, though it is nice on canvas! I have been trying to do future painting but alas, haven't got the knack for it. Though I will hear about your story and Da Vinci from Irma Pince later today. Maybe you might be able to make me a picture, yes?"

“I-I think you have future painting down pretty well,” Edward wheezed as the woman pulled his petrified body back into the classroom to get cleaned up. He could not take his eyes off of the horrid painting in the corner of the room. It was a haunting presence and he wanted with all of his might to burn it to a crisp. The woman looked up at him curiously and then back at the painting he had almost knocked over.

“What? That thing? I don’t really remember making it. Looks like I barely got a vision in at all. Unless you know what it is,” she sighed as she flicked her wand and the paint on his clothes suddenly disappeared. Edward looked down at himself and found that his jacket and slacks were completely cleaned.

“N-no. No I don’t,” Edward breathed, not wanting to admit that it was something that truly frightened him. He had the silly feeling that if he told anyone about it he might just end up trapped behind the mask all over again. He could still feel the metal pressing into his face.

“Stop scratching your face,” Alphonse scolded him as Edward found himself back into his horrible habit. He dropped his hand stiffly to his side and tried his best to focus on what the professor was telling him.

“Well, while you are here, would you like a fortune? I have been giving a lot out lately, mainly to the headmaster, so my mind’s eye is very in tune. I feel like your signs are in the right place though you might not know it yet. You give off a very strong energy being so ancient.” Trelawney walked towards the small table in the corner with the crystal ball on it like she was light as air. Everything about her screamed whimsical yet insane. Edward was not comfortable. He never was around fortune tellers. She sat down and motioned for him to take a seat. He did not follow.

“No I just came here to-”

“To give me my book, yes I know. Though I feel like having painting lessons from the Eastern Sage himself might be worth more my while. Have you ever dabbled in Divinations? Alas, I don’t see extra classes being tacked on in your future,” she said down heartedly. “Well, may your soul be harmonized with the celestial sky and minds eye always be clear on your journey away from the past.” Edward stared at her for a few seconds however she seemed to have forgotten about him being there and was head deep into the crystal ball in front of her. He guessed that was her parting statement. Edward turned around and found himself trying his best not to sprint out of the tower as fast as he could. He only wanted to get away from the painting and the constraining feeling of the mask. Just as he reached his hand out for the trap door he heard the woman’s whimsical airy voice call out to him once more.

“Paracelsus, you will find what you are looking for soon enough. Do not be afraid of your ghosts for they will be your biggest aid,” she said after looking away from her crystal ball. That welcoming message sent Edward down the silver ladder faster than what would have been deemed safe. It was only after Edward had reached the third floor outside of his classroom that he had slowed down enough to catch his breath. He leaned tiredly against the statue of a strange one eyed witch and gulped in a few heavy breathes of air. His heart was beating rapidly and he felt his body shiver as the picture of the painting flew through his mind once more. Was the mask going to come back? Why was it in some crazy woman’s fortune? Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she was picking up on pieces of history. Maybe it wasn’t the future at all. But it was nearly impossible for someone to imagine the past. The future was what divinations was for.

“Brother, it will be fine. Both of those things are locked away. You are safe.”

“They were in the painting. Plain as day! How could she know? How did she know unless-“

“Edward, when have you ever started believing in Divinations?” Winry scolded him. Edward frowned as he straightened his back against the statue. “Your entire schooling you never took a single word from a fortune teller seriously. None of them ever came true! Now you are going to believe a woman who stays locked in a dusty tower all day?”

“But she painted the mask. It was there!” Edward argued but he could feel Winry shake her head in disbelief.

“Edward, the future twists in many different ways. I am sure you will be fine in the end of it. Even if the mask somehow magically gets here to Hogwarts, we will always be with you. Remember that. You have not come this far to give up at the first sign of danger. You are Edward Elric,” she said stiffly. Edward grinned tiredly and pushed himself off the statue. His heart had calmed down though his skin was still prickly with fear. He shook his hands to get the feeling off.

“You have too much faith in me,” he said lightly. A swirl of compassion and happiness swirled through him and eased his worry as the people inside of the stone threw their encouraging thoughts at him. He heard Winry chuckle in return.

“I have the right amount, alchemy freak.”

“Gear head.”

…….

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 10

Deathday Party

Edward stared out of the doors to the Entrance Hall, feeling the light breeze of mid October slink its way through the castle. It was strangely warm for that far into the season and Edward just wished it would last a little longer. When the winter months rolled in he would expect it to have a great affect on his automail. Just imagining the pain made his spine shiver. He hoped it wouldn't be anything like the last time he storm went through.

Edward took a tiny sip of tea from the cup that he stole from the Great Hall and watched the owls fly in for morning post. Many of the students were probably receiving letters from their parents asking how school was going. He knew that Lockhart was receiving fan mail about now along with the most current newspaper with his face on the cover. Edward wished that one of the student’s cats would eat his owls and get a full stomach as if it were having its own fall feast. However, none of the student’s cats were allowed out of the dormitories by themselves and he doubted that the students would just sit back and watch their cat devour countless owls. He sighed, at last it was only a dream.

“What are you looking at?”

“BAH!” Edward exclaimed as he nearly toppled his tea in fright. He looked behind him to see Sir Porpington floating behind him, the sunlight of the morning falling delicately through him. Edward straightened himself out, unwilling to admit that his friend had actually scared him even though he was a ghost now. “Nothing, nothing really…. Just… enjoying the outdoors,” he muttered sadly as he turned back towards the door.

“Might I ask why you are not enjoying the outdoors… outdoors?” he asked him. “I can’t feel the sun anymore but I don't think you would get a tan from being inside. You look horribly pale.”

“Says you,” Edward smirked taking another sip of his drink. He looked over at his friend to see that he had a rather… bitter aura around him and Edward did not mean the immense cold that was coming from his floating form. “What’s got you kicking your grave stone?”

“Nothing…. Well… it’s not really anything to complain about…. But I just filled out an application and… apparently I don’t meet their standards! Could you believe that?” Nick said in absolute disgust.

“What are you talking about Nick?” Edward whined, and the apparition reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a transparent letter. Edward had no clue how ghost letters were made, he couldn’t picture anyone killing paper, but apparently, they had to send news somehow. Nick held it out to him and Edward took a step closer to read the silver cursive writing on the page. It was from the Headless Hunt, an apparent club of ghosts who have all lost their heads… literally. The paper was signed with a flourish at the bottom by Patrick Delaney-Podmore.

“Podmore?” Edward asked in surprise. He couldn’t believe how many ghosts he knew before they were actually ghosts. “That arfarfanarf brags about his title yet got his head chopped off because he kissed the dutchess when he was practically drowning in alcohol! The only time he sobered up in his life was when he lost it, and that was because he couldn't drink anymore.”

“Arfarfen-what?" Nick asked with a chuckle at Edward's terminology.

"He's a drunken bastard!" Edward clarified. "The only reason why people liked him was because he was rich and knew how to flaunt it. Why do you want to hang out with him?"

“This is the Headless Hunt we are talking about! The most prestigious ghost club in all of Europe!” Nicholas explained but Edward rolled his eyes and muttered something about Podmore under his breath. “It’s a half inch of skin keeping me from joining. 45 times the executioner could have gotten me into the headless hunt but he left a half inch of skin connecting-”

“Nick, can we please not talk about this in gruesome detail. You do remember I was there right?” Edward asked him as he felt himself turning green with the thought of how much blood the axe had spilt.

“Oh… yes… my bad,” Nick said awkwardly. As if he remembered death wasn’t always a subject people wanted to talk about. Edward guessed that when you were dead, it was probably one of the best conversation starters. Unfortunately, along with being on the alive side of things, Edward was also one who witnessed his death first hand and would have liked anything to prevent him from remembering it again. “Well, it’s just I invited them to my 700th Death Day party in hopes that he might change his mind. I doubt it would work but…. Hey!” the ghost exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. “Paracelsus, would you like to come? You would be able to put in a good word for me, won’t you? It’s on Halloween night, I know the feast is going on but-”

“Of course, I will come, Nick!” Edward answered wondering why it was even a question in the first place. “You don’t need to ask me twice.”

“The reason why I really wanted to make sure was because… well, I remember your peculiar hatred for going in cellars. And the party is going to be held in the last dungeon... All the way down,” Nicholas admitted. Edward frowned and looked down at his cup as he realized what that meant. If he wanted to go to Nick’s party he would have to go down below ground. He felt his nerves twist even thinking about it.

“Brother he is your friend, you should at least try. If you can’t… he would understand but at least you tried,” Alphonse told him.

“We will find a way,” Winry encouraged. “You can overcome it.” Edward looked back at Nick’s silver floating form. He was waiting for an answer, hope evident in his clear eyes. Edward closed his eyes and took in a huge breath.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I will… try.... To go.” It felt like he was forcing the words from his mouth. He nearly choked on them, but he managed to make the promise.

“Wonderful! I am so excited! It has been a long time since we partied together. Let me say, I might not be as lively as I once was, Paracelsus!” Nick said slyly. Edward chuckled weakly as the apparition took his leave with high hopes while his own were plummeting fast. Edward ran his hand through his bangs and stood there in slight panic.

“What am I going to do?” he whined to himself as he tried to figure out how to go and get out of his commitment all at once.

“Let me tell you what you are going to do,” Winry said. “You are going to overcome this fear-”

“You make it sound easier than it is,” Edward complained.

“Baby steps. You don’t have to dive to the bottom of the dungeons first go, Edward. Baby steps.”

“Brother, you have been claustrophobic and afraid of basements for ages now, 1000 years exactly-”

“And I have good reason to be!” Edward snapped.

“We know, but can’t you imagine not being afraid anymore?” Alphonse reasoned.

….

“Paracelsus, your grades in herbology and potions have been plummeting. You have not shown up to any of those classes. I don’t think you understand what this means,” Professor Ravenclaw scolded him from behind her desk. Edward turned his eyes down to the ground in shame. He was standing in her office after being invited for tea. He knew by the way she had made the offer that he was in trouble. Edward bit his lip but did not say anything to defend himself. He knew the consequences for skipping his class and he had no excuse. Professor Ravenclaw frowned as she watched him and waited for an answer. She didn’t get any.

“King Arthur sent you here for diplomatic security. He bought you from the Duke’s dungeon but that doesn’t mean you are free. You being here is the only thing that is keeping you from going back to the King in shackles. If you don’t become a wizard for his court, you are going back to the dungeons. Why are you not going to your classes?” Ravenclaw scolded him sharply. Her voice was stern and sharp. It cut Edward bare and easily planted the fear into him. Tears welled in his eyes and he shook his head, trying to deny the fact that he was crying.

“I-I can’t go back to the dungeons. I can’t go in the dungeons,” he repeated over and over again. His weak legs started to shake as his body began to quiver with his sobs. His muscles had strengthened since his time wasting away in the Duke’s dungeons but they were still very weak. A chair flew beneath him by an invisible force and he collapsed down into it. Ravenclaw looked annoyed with him.

“If you don’t want to go back, then why are you failing out by missing your classes? We can’t keep you here if you don’t put your effort in!” she argued. Edward dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t attempt to wipe the tears away. He knew by now that they wouldn’t stop.

“I-I can’t go into the dungeons. I-I try every day. I try to go to the dungeons a-and the basement for my classes. I-I can’t go into the dungeons. I-I can’t go back there!” he cried. He repeated himself, begging her not to send him back. He begged and begged hoping that she would listen to him, unlike all of the guards the kept him locked up in the Duke’s dungeon. Ravenclaw frowned at him as she listened to his babbling. After a few moments of listening to him, she stood and flicked her wand. The silver form of an eagle patronus spat out of her wand.

“Tell Helga and Salazar to come to my office about Paracelsus’ stay here. We need to make some class changes.” The raven flew away out of the office. Another flick of her wand had a boiling pot of steeping tea on her desk with two cups. Edward barely noticed as he was still muttering to himself his quiet plea. However, he soon found a warm cup of tea placed into his quivering hands.

“Paracelsus’, we will sort this out,” Ravenclaw told him. Her voice was still stern but it was quiet and enough to reassure him that it would be alright. He would be alright.

……

Edward frowned as he looked back around the castle. He remembered when the witch trials failed to kill him and they found out the mask could contain him. He was imprisoned in the Duke’s dungeon for two years with nothing but four walls and his own nightmares to keep him occupied. It had been 1000 years since the witch trials yet he could still feel the heavy chains around his wrists and the edge of the mask pressing into the sides of his head. He remembered when he was eventually taken to Hogwarts having to have separate lessons with Professor Slytherin and Hufflepuff just to learn potions and his herbology lectures? He hadn’t been in the dungeons since then and he thought that he never would have to be again. He knew the fear hadn’t gone away but he never had to face it as straight on as he had to do now. How many more times did he have to go back down to the dungeons to give something to Severus? How many more times would he have to step foot in the lower floors? It was something that loomed over him and now was more prominent than it had ever been since he was back in the castle. He had to face it.

“O-Okay,” he relented, clenching his fist. He couldn’t tell if it was in determination or in trepidation, but he would have liked to think the prior. Edward returned his gaze back outside to watch the morning take its time rolling out over the lawn of Hogwarts. Why couldn't ghosts have their parties outdoors? He wondered, taking a sip of his tea in an attempt to calm himself down but only to find that he had lost his liking for it.

"What are you looking at?" a voice came out behind him again. Edward leapt out of his skin and the cup clattered to the ground shattering on impact on the stone. The loud noise just made him jump again. Grabbing his chest to calm his racing heart, he felt like his nerves were being strung far and wide that morning.

"Does everyone want to scare me in the mornings?" he gasped, bending down and alchemically fixing the cup that shattered. His tea was a loss but he had a feeling that he wasn't going to finish it anyways.

"You just seem so approachable," the stranger joked and Edward turned around and gave his best offensive glare at them just to find two red heads staring at him. He knew that red hair meant that there was a 99% chance that the person was a Weasley. Since there were two of them and Edward was fearing he was seeing double with how alike they were, he guessed that these were the famous Weasley twins, Fred and George. He had never met them because they were too old to be in his class but rumors from the faculty told him that they were mischief makers at best, the devils at worse.

"Most of the students are scared of me," he stated flatly as if that would ward them off, but the twins shrugged.

"We aren't most students."

"What do you want," he ground out, hoping they would just leave him alone.

"I think your owl got a bit concussed when it broke through the window in the Great Hall and it gave us your mail," one of them, he couldn't tell which, said.

"My Owl? I don't have a-" Edward started but then spotted the Groundskeeper coming out of the Great Hall carrying a rather beaten looking owl. It appeared that the large man wanted to help it. Edward knew from the short talks that they had, which were very few and far inbetween since Edward's personality and being seemed to ward the man away, that the groundskeeper had a fascination for animals. As the man passed by through the doors to the grounds, not without a particular wary glance his way, Edward got a closer look at the bird. It was the one that had broke in through his window the few weeks prior and it seemed to make a habit of it. He groaned as he massaged his face in irritation.

"That's not my bird I was just borrowing it," he muttered, turning his attention back towards the twins.

"I would suggest you go to the owlery and find a better one."

"That one has seen better days," the other twin added.

"Just give me my mail," Edward growled at them, holding his hand out to them expecting them to hand it over. They offered him a paper wrapped package which looked a little worse for wear but was luckily still intact. He took it from them a little too roughly and he heard the contents clink slightly in retaliation.

"What is that?" he heard Alphonse ask him curiously.

"Nothing," Edward said quickly as he opened the package hoping that the contents weren't too rattled. A few large vials of potions ingredients poked out of the wrapping along with a silver fountain pen. Though they were battered, the vials were intact and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Brother did you use your entire paycheck to buy potion's ingredients for Snape?" he asked in disbelief. Edward grimaced as he plucked the pen out and quickly wrapped the package back up. He pocketed the pen and tucked the package underneath his arm. Along with sending the owl out on other errands such as getting himself a fountain pen instead of struggling with a quill, he had send his most recent paycheck out to get Severus replacements for the potion ingredients he had broke in the beginning of the year. The multiple requests had taken the owl a very long time to return with the orders. However, with the state the owl was in, he doubted he would be able to use it again. He would have to figure out another way to get an owl for himself.

"Why do you have to sound so shocked about it?" Edward grumbled underneath his breath to his brother before turning back towards the twins who didn't think better to leave him be. They were looking at him, not put off that he was talking to himself, but rather intrigued. As he heard of them from the other teachers, they must have heard of him from the students.

"You look familiar-"

"I teach here. Of course I look familiar," Edward retorted with a huff as he walked away from them, heading towards the Great Hall. The twins kept pace with him easily, not giving him room to even breathe.

"No as in seeing your somewhere before," one of them commented.

"Like a book, or picture-"

"It couldn't have been a book, George. We don't read," the one Edward finally designated as Fred smirked with a teasing grin on his face.

"I don't know where," Edward groaned. "I don't get out much-"

"That's obvious."

"You look horribly pale… Like a ghost," George pushed. Edward rolled his eyes as he poked his head into the Great Hall. He looked up to the High Table and saw only a few of the professors were still straggling at breakfast. The meal was almost over and classes were about to start soon so most of the students and teachers were leaving to start the day. Unfortunately, the person Edward was looking for wasn't there.

"Where's Snape?" Edward groaned, asking the red-heads for help. He had a feeling of what the answer was going to be.

"He's probably in his classroom, professor."

"We have potions first class." Edward felt his heart fall as he glanced over towards the staircase that lead down towards the dungeons. A slight feeling of nausea came over him as he forced his way over towards the entrance to hell. He kept reminding himself that it was just a dungeon, it wasn't even the dungeon, yet the fear inside of him only grew the closer he got to it. The air around him seemed to become terribly thick as he looked down into the darkness. He took a slight step back but accidentally bumped into the twins that were standing dangerously close to him. He could barely contain himself from begging them to take the package down for him. Unfortunately, his brother had other plans.

"Brother, this would be a good start to overcoming your fear. Remember you promised Nick you would try-"

"I didn't know it would be so soon," Edward hissed at him, feeling his heart skip in his chest as he dared to take another glance at the entrance. He sucked in a breath and turned around to get a good couple feet distance from the place. He needed air desperately, and the dungeon wasn't giving it to him. The feelings of the shackles around his wrists faded with every step he took and the sense of relief just made him want to run even farther away.

"Professor, are you alright?" Fred asked him, stopping him in his tracks. Edward glanced over his shoulder to see the twins normal mischievous grins replaced with a worried frown. 

"N-no, I mean yes!" Edward stumbled. "Why wouldn't I be alright? Perfectly fine-"

"You seem scared-"

"I am not!'

"Are you afraid of the dungeons?" George asked him, connecting destination to reaction.

"N-No! That's stupid! Why would I be afraid of something like that?" Edward exclaimed, feeling his face grow red with embarrassment. The twins glanced at each other not convinced and Edward found himself taking a shaky solitary step back towards the dungeon entrance just to prove his point. They still weren't convinced. "I-I am not!"

"Professor, there is nothing wrong with that," Fred told him softly. "Our own baby brother is afraid of spiders."

"Deathly afraid of them. Wouldn't even look at one," George elaborated.

"I am not afraid of the dungeons I… I just don't like them, that's all and… I have other things to do…"

"Professor, we are going down to the dungeons anyways for class. Do you want us to take the package down for you?"

"Ed, you need to work on this for Nick,"Winry reminded him as he was just about to hand the package off to his students. Before they could grab a hold of it, he retracted a little as the guilt settled in his stomach. It didn't mix too well with the fear that was already lived there. He had promised Nick because he wanted to help, but now that he had to face the dungeons he felt the reality of that promise slip away. "An Elric never breaks a promise," she noted, making him feel even worse than before yet it drove him into tucking it back underneath his arm with a trembling hand. He sucked in a huge breath and shook his head at the twins.

"No I… I can take it," he muttered, angry that there was a noticeable shake in his voice. The twins looked at each other and stepped aside to make a path for him back to the dungeon entrance. His leadened feet dragged themselves back to the top of the stairs and he peered back down into the darkness.

"You did it before. You can do it again. Just try not to throw the package this time. You were very thoughtful to get it for him," his brother smiled.

"I won't," Edward grumbled as he attempted to take his first step and casually walk down the stairs just to spite the twins but his legs wouldn't budge. He was locked in place.

"Professor, do you need help?" George asked him. Edward didn't tear his eyes off of the staircase but he could just picture their faces, confused and concerned. He didn't think that the notorious tricksters could hold those emotions.

"No, I did this before… I just need to take my time," he told them quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He was kind of hoping that if he talked softly, the tremors in his voice wouldn't be noticeable.

"How long did it take you to go down the last time?"

"20 minutes just to cross the threshold," Roy's voice said. "I timed."

"Shut up," Edward gritted. The red hair of the twins came into his view as they descended a couple steps on the staircase. They looked up at him from where they stood calmly on the steps. They made it look so easy.

"Come on Professor, we will go down together," Fred offered, holding out his hand for him. Edward looked at it hesitantly. He really didn't want help going down into the dungeons. He could do it himself… eventually. Yet against his strong will and determination, his hand struck out and latched onto the kid's tightly as if on reflex. The redhead's eyes widened with how tight he held onto him and had to pry his hand out of his grip. He cradled it lightly and tried to shake the pain out.

"Okay, maybe no contact," he smirked shakily up at Edward who tried to imitate his smile but failed at a grimace. "How about you just take the first few steps?"

"Alright," he trembled as he forced his foot to move. It felt like lead and didn't want to move at first but he kept urging himself forward and soon he found himself meeting the twins on the staircase. Cheers picked up inside of him as his friends in the stone were excited for his success. He heard Roy mutter something about it only taking him 10 minutes that time around. Edward would have rolled his eyes but they were too transfixed to the dim corridor ahead of him.

"Okay, just a few more," George echoed and their pattern continued. The twins accompanied him down the staircase to the lower floor that made up the dungeons. Edward hated to have his students watch him in such a state yet he was grateful for their presence. He found it so much easier and faster when he could actually see someone there with him. Though the souls in the stone were supportive, he couldn't see them. Knowing they were there wasn't enough. He had to be sure of it.

"Professor, where have we seen you before?" one of the twins asked. Edward couldn't tell which as he was focused on his feet, hoping that his shaky legs would cave underneath him.

"I-I don't know. I never met you before now," Edward told them honestly, not feeling up for a snide comment he wanted to give.

"It couldn't have been a book, or the newspaper," George muttered as they seemed stuck on the question.

"A magazine just doesn't feel right," Fred added.

"You're probably just.. Imagining things," Edward commented underneath his breath but the twins shook their heads.

"No we really think we saw you before just-" George started but there was a sudden snap of someone's fingers. The sound nearly sent Edward back up the corridor but the twins managed to calm him down enough to stay in the lower floors of the castle. He glared at him as he felt his nerves rattling around in his chest as the fear was blown through them.

"You assholes," he muttered under his breath along with many other curses as he had to regain the ground that he had lost. He had made so much progress and now he was delayed from freedom just because one of them snapped their fingers. He felt utterly foolish.

"Sorry, Professor," the kid muttered innocently. "I just thought I figured it out. George doesn't he look like that one card we always steal from Ron?"

"Card? Famous Witches and Wizards Card?"

"Yeah-" Fred started but saw the confused look on Edward's face as he didn't know what they were talking about. "Professor, don't tell Ron, but the reason why he hasn't finished collecting all of the cards at the bottom of the chocolate frogs yet is because we keep stealing one of his cards."

"Whenever he gets one we manage to take it and he's never the wiser," George explained with a smirk.

"You two are evil," Edward muttered as he looked slightly at his hand. The one that was usually shaking out of control was calming down slightly with the normal conversation. He grasped it to his chest lightly and turned his full attention on the twins for that moment. Maybe he could get through this if he was focused on something else. "What card was it?" he asked, only slightly curious but desperate for a distraction.

"Number 310, Paracelsus-"

"WHAT!" Edward shouted as his feet came to a halt. The twins glanced at each other suspiciously but nodded their heads.

"Yeah, we were just thinking you look kind of like him. You even have a metal arm like he did on the card-"

"But without a beard-"

"A BEARD!" He raged. "What are wizard's obsessions over beards! Merlin's beard this, Merlins beard that. Merlin never even had a beard! Now you are saying they make me have a beard?! Soon they are going to be saying Edward's beard!" He finished his rant, not at all satisfied. Why did wizards assume that all great minds had to be accompanied by beards. Beards didn't mean wisdom they meant the person didn't have the decency to shave. Edward crossed his arms in aggravation and smoldered there for a few seconds. Unfortunately, he happened to glance over and see the absolute dumbfounded expressions on the twins faces. Just realizing what he had admitted to the students, Edward groaned to himself and dropped his face into his hands. "Oh god."

"Professor, are you really-"

"Don't tell anyone," he ordered them before they could explode with excitement. "Damn it! Don't tell anyone! I don't want stupid students bugging me for my life story. It isn't interesting and I don't want to talk about it. I am just Edward, okay?"

"How many people know?"

"Just the faculty. But they know not to bug me," he growled. The twins chuckled in disbelief as they stared open mouthed at him.

"The card our brother has been missing for years is now his teacher this year?"

"This is absolutely amazing. You must be ancient!-"

"Ancient history ended before me. I am not that old," Edward growled as he tried his best to ignore the students hoping they weren't making a big deal about it. Looking back down the hallway he saw the darkness creeping towards him. He took in a sharp gasp as he looked around remembering where he was that whole time. With the conversation becoming so involved he had forgotten where he was for just a few blissful minutes. Now it was all rushing back to him. Heart freezing over, his body became petrified in its place as he stared into the darkness. The stone walls felt like they were closing in on him and he feared they would crush him if he stayed. He staggered back, where he thought the staircase would be towards his freedom but the twins were in the way.

"Professor, where are you going?" George asked, suddenly aware of his change in demeanor. The excitement of their revelation vanished as they realised that their professor was panicking again.

"i-I got to get out of here," he wheezed, his voice barely able to make a sound. He grabbed the package from underneath his arm and shoved it in one of the student's chests. "Here, take it-"

"But Professor-"

"We are here," George finished pointing to the door they were standing next to. Edward glanced over, wide eyed at the large black wooden door. They were there? Already? He wanted to rush in and throw the package at Severus and run out before the door could lock him in.

"Brother, you are so close-" The twins opened the door and walked into their classroom making the action look so easy. Edward felt his legs wanting to follow yet they were glued to the ground. He clutched the package to his chest and stared into the classroom. It looked more lively than the last time he was there. Students were sitting at a couple benches and cauldrons were bubbling. There was a sneering voice the instant the twins walked in, scolding them for being late.

"Professor Snape, we were just helping Professor Elric-"

"No excuses. Get to your chairs," the man snipped. As the twins vanished from the doorway, another familiar face appeared to replace them. Severus looked him over, his face a statue yet his eyes bearing some curiosity to them. His eyes latched onto the package he was holding and seemed to realise that it was the reason he made that perilous journey to begin with. "Elric, I told you to get someone else to run errands down here-"

"Th-this one's from me," Edward said halfmindedly as the other half was wandering with his eyes to the staircase.

"From you?" he asked, very confused. Edward quickly nodded his head as he practically threw the package at the man against his will of wanting to hand it over nicely. He quickly apologised as Severus stumbled to catch a hold of it. He looked from the brown wrapping up to him, surprised. It seemed he didn't get a lot of gifts in his time. Edward shifted nervously and glanced back towards the door again. It seemed so much farther now than it ever was. Seeing him look back, Severus sighed and straightened himself out.

"Elric, come on in-" he said but Edward just shook his head stubbornly. "I don't trust you to wait there so Elric come in," he more than ordered him. Edward found his shaky led legs shuffling into the dark classroom. He bit his lip as he saw all of the students staring at him. The Weasley twins were giving him a thumbs up to tell him he was doing well but that didn't make him feel any better. Suddenly Edward felt a large wooden case press into his stomach and he looked down to see Severus holding it out for him. He felt his shaky hands grab a hold of it and when he did there was a light tinkle of vials on the inside.

"These are some of the student's Peace draughts that they made last week. Their proportions are right but are too strong for a normal person to use. I failed them, however, for your sake, they might just be enough," Severus said as he released his hold on the box. Edward fumble with the weight but after a glare from the potion's master he was able to get a hold of it.

"I-I don't need-" Edward started, turning slightly red from the thought of having to take a peace drought but the man just stared at him, seeing right through his lie.

"Just until you are able to come down and not make my students late for class," he told him stiffly. Edward frowned and looked down at the box. There sounded to be a lot in there. He looked back to see the whole class of students staring at him expectedly and he turned red. Tucking the box under his arm, he gave a quick thanks to Severus before heading to the door. He tried to keep control of his walk but only managed to contain it to a sprint. He heard Severus calling out for him but by that time he was already running down the corridor towards the staircase for freedom, the vials clanking in their case. When he got back out into the entryway Edward took a big gasping breath of air and leaned against the wall by the threshold. His legs were shaking as well as his hand and he had to put the case of potions down for a little bit as he rested. He feared that his trembling hands might just drop it. Edward collapsed down to the ground and pressed his back securely against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. He sucked in a huge breath and released it, hoping to calm his nerves from their wired state.

"Brother you did well. That was nice what you did for Severus," Alphonse complimented him. Edward breathed in and smiled shakily, not able to do much else.

"I-I did it…," he gasped, excitement overwhelming his lingering fear.

"Are you willing to try again later when the time comes?" Winry asked him. Edward frowned. He knew that there were going to be more errands to run. He couldn't expect to be able to go to Nick's party with just one go. He needed to keep at it to break his fear. But to go through all of that again?? What if he didn't have anyone to talk to next time? What if Peeves showed up again? Though he had many questions on what the next trip to the dungeons could hold, Edward nodded his head. For Nick, he would do it.

……….

Harry snuck out of Filch's office as Peeve's crashed cabinets down the corridor. It was just what he needed to get out of a good night's detention just for tracking mud into the castle. There wasn't even that much of it but the caretaker was always in a bad mood when it came to students. He should have taken Nearly Headless Nick's advice earlier and stayed away from that corridor. He probably wouldn't have been caught otherwise. However after that morning's quidditch practise in the muddy field, he just wanted to go the fast way back to his dorms so he could catch up on some well needed rest. Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, was making them get up extremely early just so that they could get an extra hour of practice. The entire team would have rather had an extra hour of sleep, but their embarrassing loss to Ravenclaw last year was good motivation. 

"Harry!" he heard someone exclaim and he looked over to see Nick's ghostly head poke out through the wall as if he too was hiding from Filch. "Did it work? I sent Peeves to go tip over some courier cabinets as a distraction. Hope you didn't get into too much trouble-"

"None at all," Harry said, surprised that the ghost would do such a thing for him. He always thought Nick was a nice ghost, they talked a few times, but he never thought he was daring or adventurous as to take such a risk to get him out of Filch's grimy claws. Something seemed different about him. Instead of the cold air that ghosts give off, though that was chilling Harry a bit to the point that he had to pull his quidditch robes a little tighter around himself, Nick seemed to be a little more happy than the normal gloom of death. "How are you doing Nick?" he questioned, not wanting to leave the man who saved him from Filch with anything less than a decent conversation. He owed at least that.

"Just.. well, my 700th Deathday party is coming up and I am just so glad that one of my old friend is able to come. He wants to put in a good word for me to the Headless Hunt," Nick said, a smile on his pale face. "It has been such a long time since we partied together. I hope I still got it in me-"

"That's…. Good," Harry said hesitantly, not sure if he should congratulate the ghost on his death or mourn it. Nick seemed very excited for it though and that seemed to be a sign that it was more or less a good thing. However, as the ghost pondered there a bit, probably daydreaming about his party, he seemed to grow concerned.

"Oh dear," he muttered. "I just realised that he would be the only lifeful person at the event. I don't want him to feel left out. Ghosts sometimes can be very reluctant to talk to the living. It might seem dull for him."

"Oh, well that's too bad," Harry said half mindedly just wanting to leave the dead conversation and get back to his dorms. He could picture the warm shower and pajamas already. Nick's cold aura wasn't doing anything to help his wandering mind as he shivered underneath his mud soaked robes. Harry was planning on ignoring his potion's homework just for a restful weekend. He hadn't had one of those in such a long time. However instead of saying salutations, Nick snapped his ghostly fingers and the smile instantly returned to his face.

"Harry… would you be able to come to my Death Day party on Halloween, just so he would have someone to talk to? Of course, if you would rather go to the feast, that's okay. Your friends are invited too. I just was hoping to make it more exciting own there-"

"O-Okay," Harry said reluctantly. He would love to go to the Halloween feast however Nick did help him out of a good detention. Maybe he owed him a little more than just a simple conversation. Though his mouth already watered for all of the candies that would be at the feast, Harry agreed to go to his party. Who knew? Maybe ghosts were a little livelier when it came to parties. He just hoped that his friends would agree to go with him. He didn't want to be stuck there alone with one of Nicks ancient friends as his only form of conversation. The man was old and probably couldn't remember much.

"Thank you!" Nick exclaimed. "I can't wait. Paracelsus is definitely going to be happy to see some familiar faces that aren't beyond the grave-"

"Wait," Harry halted Nick from floating away. "Do you mean I know him?" he asked. Nick looked at him confused.

"Of course! He is staying here in the castle this year, very reluctantly I might add," Nick told him. Harry frowned. He didn't know that there was anyone like that staying in the castle. Surely a new person would have been announced at the opening feast. Harry would have asked more questions but he heard sudden curses behind him as Filch must have been returning. Nicholas quickly ushered him off with a few more words of gratitude and Harry went running down the hall in hopes of not being caught again. He was sure that detention wouldn't have been all that decent if he was caught escaping from his first one.

Harry ran up through the castle and towards the Gryffindor dormitory. The other students were just getting up to start their weekend as it was still early in the morning. He was glad to see that Hermione and Ron were up. Ron would have usually slept in on the weekend however Hermione knew he had a lot of homework to catch up on and must have woken him up for it. He didn't look pleased, but hopefully with his news he would be cheered up. Harry still didn't know quite what to think of it.

"So you are telling me," Ron pronounced slowly as if he was having trouble hearing what Harry had just told him, "that Paracelsus, the Paracelsus, is staying in the castle?" Harry nodded his head. "Why didn't we know?! We have got to meet him. Do you understand how extraordinary this is?!" he exclaimed. "He's one of the rarest wizard cards out there. The only one I don't have!"

"Harry, Paracelsus is the person who invented alchemy. He taught Nicolas Flamel. He has been alive for centuries yet no one knows where he is. Are you sure it is him?"

“That was what Sir Nick said.”

“I would like to meet him, maybe we could talk to him about the stone. Our alchemy classes aren’t getting very far. We are only learning basic chemistry and circles yet. If Professor Elric is worried about the stone, we might be able to ask Paracelsus why-“

"You’re still going off about the stone? It was destroyed, remember? That was what Dumbledore said,” Ron argued.

“Yet Professor Elric was looking for it all the same,” Hermione reasoned. “We are the ones who got closest to the stone. What if it isn’t what we thought it was? We should be able to know why someone else is searching for it. I think we should go to the party to find out.”

“I don’t care about the stone but I want to go to the party. I just want to see Professor Elric's face when he knows that Paracelsus himself is in the castle. Ha! Maybe then Professor Elric would stop being so prideful," Ron grumbled just to get a smack over the shoulder from Hermione.

"But it is over Halloween Feast. Are you sure you would want to miss that?" Harry asked them to make sure it was something they actually wanted to do.

"Of course!" Hermione replied with a smile. "This is exciting isn't it? We have never been to a deathday party before. I wonder what it is like."

"I don't care about the party. I want to meet Paracelsus! It is a once in a century opportunity!"

………..

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter Eleven

The Eastern Sage

The weeks of October blew by very fast and Edward soon found himself standing on the top of the dungeon stairs with a small stew pot in his hands that smelled as if it had turned a century ago. He didn't want to come to the party empty handed even though he knew that the house elves were preparing the food for the event. Since he couldn't bring a ghostly tangible item, Edward settled with trying to make something that the guests could at least try to taste. He tried to make Pinako's stew. It was a debauchery of the recipe for the soul reason that Edward used purely rotten ingredients to give the ghosts a stronger taste. Since they couldn't physically eat the meal, the aroma had to be strong enough for them to at least phase through it. It let them imagine all the more. Unfortunately the stench had Edward's eyes watering and he just hoped to put it down as soon as possible. It would be a treat for the ghosts but for him, not so much.

"Are you ready?" Mustang asked him calmly. Edward stared down into the darkness of the dungeon and took in a deep breath. He had been trying to overcome his fear for a while now, and it took less and less time for him to actually make it down the steps. Though he was still anxious inside the dungeons, he had been down there enough times to understand that it was something he could do, even if he just didn't want to. To make things easier that night Edward had taken some precautions so he could try and relax at the party. He had taken a vial of Snape's Peace Draught that he gave him and brought Mustang out as some support. He had remembered from the Weasley twins that it was easier to go down with someone than by himself so he wanted to be prepared. He would have rather wanted Alphonse to join him instead however he knew that if his anxiety overwhelmed him while he was down there Alphonse would try to comfort him a little too physically. Edward didn't think he could handle a metal body touching him down in the dungeons. It would have been too much like shackles for him to bear.

Edward shivered with that though but managed to slowly nod his head as Mustang took the first step down into the darkness of the dungeons below. Edward took another deep breath, careful to breathe through his mouth and not his nose because of the stew, and followed him with wary steps. Mustang kept up light conversation to distract him and Edward soon found him all the way down in the absolute end of the dungeon corridor. The stone walls sucked all of the heat from the air and Edward was grateful that he had worn his red cloak that evening. The heat of the castle didn't reach all the way down in the dungeons and with as many ghosts as there would have been in the party he was sure he would have froze without it.

Mustang who was standing behind him leaned over his shoulder and gave a light knock on the door. There was a slight pause and out of nowhere Sir Porpington's silver head popped right through it.

"Ah you made it! You made it!" he exclaimed a bright smile on his face. "I was afraid that being this far down in the dungeons would have been too much for you."

"I am rather surprised too," Edward smiled weakly, rather not wanting to talk about his fears as he was standing in the middle of them. He raised his stewpot in his hands to show Nicholas, the smell becoming more overbearing the closer it came to him. "Do you have somewhere I could set this?" he asked.

"Of course, of course! I would open the door but… well… you know," Nick chuckled lightly. "I am sure your friend here can get it for you though. You wouldn't mind leaving it open? I am expecting other guests as well," he said as Mustang quickly opened the door for him, ignoring the fact that Nick's head was still stuck through it.

The room was dimly lit with candles of glowing blue flame. It casted an eerie light across a rather beautiful yet dreary display. Black sashes and curtains decorated the cold stone dungeon room and the table was dressed similarly. Charmed instruments in the corner played light dirges for the guests to march to. If anyone ever felt the need to dance it was quickly knocked out of them with that tune. Funeral lilies were the only thing to really brighten the mood of the room but even then it was still mournful. Many ghosts who were there floated around like they were at a cocktail party. They appeared to be giving condolences to Nicholas as they passed however for ghosts this must have been the norm as it still seemed light hearted. Edward mused in the differences between ghost's party taste and their own.

"You can set it right here," Nicholas pointed to a nice open spot on the food table. The stench was horrible that close to it and Edward quickly placed his own dish on the table and took a few steps back from it to free his nose of the smell. He would have compared it to curdled milk but since he suspected that was already there he had nothing else to describe it with. However, as much as it made his own skin crawl, Nicholas seemed absolutely delighted in the spread. "I wasn't expecting you to bring anything, but the more the merrier. Do you mind if I-"

"No, go right ahead," Edward said, attempting a smile through his watering eyes. He took another step back to get away from the smell. The ghost quickly floated through the pot and arose out of the table with an absolute smile on his face.

"Oh! I can almost taste it! You really know how to cook a good stew, Paracelsus! It is so much stronger than any of the other food here," Nicholas exclaimed as he waved to the other dishes at the table. "Though the house elves do try their best, they simply make dishes and wait for them to spoil. It isn't as enjoyable when you make a dish with already fermented ingredients," the ghost noted as he beckoned other guests to try his stew. Only a couple of them came over for it but they were all amazed at the power. Edward rubbed the back of his neck modestly.

"It was an old recipe I used to like. Granny Pinako always made it. I don't know if it as good as hers though for the sole reason that I can't eat it like that to find out!" Edward chuckled, making Nick laugh.

"I would hate to see you try. I hope you had something to eat. I tried to tell the cooking staff that there would be non-ghostly entities here however it seemed to have slipped their mind."

"I ate before I came down and I made sure to bring some sandwiches down incase I got peckish-"

"And your friend?" Nick asked motioning to Mustang's large armor. Edward nearly smacked himself for forgetting to introduce him to Mustang. Though the Colonel knew all too well about Nicholas and their endeavors together, Nick never saw Mustang nor really knew he existed at all. Edward never attached souls to armor when he was studying in the muggle community. If they should have had to return to the stone in a public place… Edward feared what the consequences would have been from either muggle or wizarding community.

"Nick, this is Roy Mustang. He used to be my commanding officer in the military back home."

"Used to be?" Mustang asked sarcastically. Edward could have just pictured his knowing smirk on his face should his helmet actually have allowed for expressions. "I don't remember you ever resigning."

"Hey, if I am still in the military I better be seeing some really nice retirement funds coming my way with all my years in service," Edward retorted effectively shutting the man up on the subject of money. That penny pincher.

Edward and Nick talked for a short while and the ghost introduced him to his other ghostly friends. Even some of them stated that they grew up hearing stories of the Eastern Sage and Merlin's friend. They asked philosophical questions on life and death and how extraordinary it was that he avoided it. Ghosts enjoyed philosophy especially if it could lead the conversation to their own demise. After hearing stories of beheadings, suicides, and murder, Edward had to take a step back from the morbid conversations for a while. Even though he was at a Deathday party there was only so much death one person could take.

He stood off to the side of the party watching the ghosts chatter amongst themselves and some even take to the dance floor. Even in death Nick looked more lively at a party. He sighed as he watched them remembering the very few parties he had been to back in Amestris. He missed talking to his friends in person, seeing their smiles. The images of their faces were starting to fade from his memory and now he could barely picture a smile on anyone's face who now resided in the stone. He felt a pain of sadness fly through him and he touched his chest lightly as if that would ease it. How could he start to forget even his own brother's face?

"I know this is more like a funeral than anything else but you could at least pretend to enjoy yourself," he heard Mustang say to him. Edward glanced up to where the tall armor was towering over him and gave a weak smile. The man reached up and unclipped his chest piece to open his cavity and pulled out a small canteen of water that they had packed before. As Edward was carrying the stew pot, Mustang was carrying the edible items that they had brought along. He held them inside hi armor so that they wouldn't be in the way. Why would they busy a ghostly party with human things? Edward took it gratefully and took a sip of it. Though it was just water, it surely made him feel better. Mustang watched him all the while and didn't take his eyes off of him as if he was afraid he was going to hurt himself. Edward knew he was just worried.

"You worked so hard to even get here," Roy reminded him softly. "Don't let a few negative thoughts stop you from having a good time."

"Do you think…" Edward started but stopped for a minute and shook his head, quickly capping the canteen he was holding. He set it down on a nearby table and crossed his arms tiredly. He shouldn't delve into such questions tonight. Not down here at least. Mustang lifted his hand to set it on his shoulder but quickly retreated as he remembered his body was made of cold metal. While Edward was fighting negative thoughts it was a bad idea to touch him with it, especially in the dungeons. For his consideration, Edward was grateful.

"You should go and try doing light firecrackers with alchemy. I know ghosts like deadly things," Edward muttered. Roy looked reluctant to leave but after a moment's long hesitation, he turned to go find Nicholas. Edward obviously didn't want to get his spirits down as well. Uncapping the canteen again, he took another long cold sip of water. It was refreshing except when an unexpected surprise had you spitting it out.

……

"Gosh it is cold down here," Ron muttered as the three of them walked to the lower levels of the dungeon. The three gryffindors had taken a little detour in order to skip the feast without getting caught so they were late getting to the dungeons. If Professor Snape didn't spend his entire time down there they would have been down sooner.

"I hope we aren't late," Hermione said as they reached the door to the last dungeon. It was propped open and they could see ghosts floating around inside and hear a screeching noise like nails grinding a chalkboard.

"Is that supposed to be music?" Harry asked as they inched their way inside. It was rather gloomy, not what they were expecting at all for a party but rather a funeral. Harry guessed that it wasn't a deathday party for no reason. It seemed to fit the part. Ghosts looked down at them curiously as if they were surprised that someone actually had to use the door instead of flying right through it. Harry suddenly felt unsure whether he made the right choice in bringing his friends down there. It seemed to be a horrible way of spending the evening especially when there was a perfectly warm and delicious feast upstairs. Ron however didn't seem to mind how horrible the party was at first, he was bouncing anxiously wanting to meet the famous wizard Paracelsus. Nick however was the first face they found.

"Ah! You made it! I am so glad you came!" Nick exclaimed, ushering them farther into the freezing room. Harry really wished that he had brought a thicker set of robes as Nick's hand accidentaly glazed through him. It felt like an ice bucket was dumped on his head. "Paracelsus seems to be feeling rather down. His friend voiced his concerns to me just a few minutes ago. I really thought that this party would have excited him. He used to really like going out back in the day but I don't know what happened-"

"Nick, could the fact that you died have anything to do with it?" Hermione asked very concerned. The ghost frowned suddenly as if he didn't think of that before.

"Oh dear, and this was supposed to be a happy occasion. I never thought… he was there after all… it must be such a big slap in the face. I feel horrible," Nearly Headless Nick whispered as he realised the big flaw in his party plans. For humans death wasn't such an easy thing to handle. Harry was still rather confused on whether to congratulate him for his party of be sad for his passing. "Do you think I should talk to him?"

"We will talk to him," Ron volunteered eagerly. It was obvious it was more for himself than for Nick's sake. He just wanted to meet the wizard and was waiting for that moment all night. "You can worry about your other guests for now. We can cheer him up." Nick was oblivious to his true ambitions and nodded his head.

"Yes,  that might be a good idea. However I must warn you, he is scared of dungeons. I don't know how long he i willing to stay down here. Try not to scare him off. I don't want this night to end in complete disaster for him," the ghost warned just as another apparition called his attention. He quickly pointed across the way towards the opposite wall. "That's Paracelsus right over there."

The three Gyrffindors turned to look through the hazy cloud of ghostly figures just to see their alchemy professor standing across the room taking a sip of a canteen. He looked rather anxious, like he wasn't enjoying himself at all, but then who would with the music they had. The three of them looked at each other and then back at Nick.

"Professor Elric?" Harry questioned in absolute disbelief. Nick looked down at him and shrugged.

"Had me fooled all of these years. He was apparently going by his father's name when we went to school together. Never knew his name was Edward until recently. Still can't get the hang of calling him that. You would try and cheer him up though, would you? He's already so miserable being in the castle. I thought this might have enlightened his spirits, but I assume I was wrong." With another beckon, Nicholas floated off across the room to attend to his other guests. The three gryffindors turned back towards each other.

"He must be imagining things," Ron whispered as he stole another glance towards their professor who seemed none the wiser that they were there. Hermione did the same but bit her lip in contemplation.

"Maybe he is his son? Nick did say that he used his father's name-"

"But that would still make him at least 700 years old! There is no possible way," Ron retorted. He groaned to himself as his excitement pittered to devastation. He had missed the halloween feast because of this and now Harry was feeling less sure of why he accepted Nick's invitation.

"We could at least ask him. No harm in that, right?" Harry offered, not really sure if he wanted the answer to their question.

……..

"Are you really Paracelsus?" Water sprayed the air as a sudden voice shouted behind him obnoxiously. Edward, coughed and choked as he was in the middle of taking a drink of water when that outrageous statement came out. He gasped for air, his eyes watering, and turned around to see three nosy gryffindors standing behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He gargled as he tried to get control of himself. They did not seem fazed by his language as he had been using it all year but were more focused on their question at hand.  He wasn't expecting any other humans to be at the deathday party, especially not those three. He felt himself grow slightly aggravated that Nick would invite children to such an event especially since he now knew that it was probably for his sake that he did so.

"We were invited," Harry answered him as was already obvious to him.

"Are you really Paracelsus- the Paracelsus?" the Weasley interrogated, ignoring all formalities. Edward remembered his talk with the twins earlier in the month when they were helping him down to the classroom. He cursed to himself. They were probably up to this. How many other people knew? How many did they tell? He groaned tiredly as he massaged his face. His eyes darted very to where the Colonel was talking to a rather interested crowd of ghosts. They seemed really entranced by his bodiless armor.

"Did your brother's tell you that?" he growled, glaring at his students. "I told them to keep quiet and you would be smart to do the same." The three student's jaws dropped in both awe and shock as they stared at him, knowing for the first time that he was a legendary figure. Edward pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Yes, I am the Paracelsus," he groaned as he answered their questions before they could ask it again.

"But you look so young!" Ron exclaimed which made him grit his teeth.

"And what's that supposed to mean?! I am 1016 years old! I am not fucking short!" he raged at them, holding his fist dangerously close to the Weasley's face. The gryffindors quickly took a few steps back to get away from his wrath. He wanted to strangle all of them just so that they would keep their mouths shut. Maybe he could say that they fell into the slime pits in the cavern below the castle. He didn't think Severus would really mind.  However just imagining the dark vast caverns sent shivers up his spine. He could feel a trickle of fear lick his heart and he quickly clutched his shirt to keep it at bay. He couldn't freak out in the middle of Nick's party. He had spent the entire month building up his confidence to come down into the dungeons. He wouldn't be defeated because three nosy students were aggravating him.

"Professor-" the young Granger started but Edward shot her a stern look, making her think it was wiser to shut up.

"I didn't tell anyone for a reason. I don't want to be asked questions. My life isn't interesting-"

"Isn't interesting?" Harry asked a little taken back by his blatant disregard for his life. "Professor, you have lived life times. There is everything interesting about that."

"You are the oldest wizard in the world-" Ron started elaborating on what Harry meant.

"I am not a witch!" Edward snapped defensively. The fear he was trying to choke down actually took a bite of his heart. Edward felt his breath catch in his throat and he closed his eyes taking a tiny step outside of the conversation.

'He's a witch' he heard the harsh voices of his past whisper in his ear and he quickly shook his head.

"I am not witch, nor will I ever be," he hissed harshly at them. The golden glare in his eyes felt like he was throwing daggers at his own students, but he just needed to fend them off. He couldn't talk about this, down in the dungeons of all places. The gryffindors looked confused and unfortunately closed the gap he had opened up for himself.

"Professor, of course you are a wizard. You invented alchemy-" Hermione herself tried to reason. Edward had always thought her the most sensible person there, yet she wasn't sensitive.

"I didn't invent alchemy. I just simply brought it here," he admitted. "I don't care what anyone says. Because I can do magic, because I can do alchemy does not make me a wizard. I don't ever want to be called that again. Just leave me alone." He turned to go get Mustang from the crowd but before he could leave he felt a hand suddenly grab his wrist. For an instant he felt a cold metal shackle wrap its way around his skin where the fingers gripped his wrist. He gasped as he quickly pulled his hand away like it had been burned. His eyes were wide as he gripped his own wrist trying to rub the metal feeling away however with his own automail hand he just made the ghost touch worse.

"Professor, we want to know-" Harry started but Edward spun around and yelled at them.

"I don't give a damn what you want to know! My life has held more horrors than you could even begin to imagine so I apologise for not sharing them with the likes of you!”  he shouted. "Do you want to hear about what it feels like to have to run a sword through a man's stomach in the heat of battle? Do you want to hear about the lovely adventure of watching all of your friends age before your face? Or do you want to think about the ugly truth that no matter what happens to me I will never ever die?" He seethed, the fire that ignited in his lungs billowing out in pillars of black smoke as he scolded his students for somethings that they couldn't possibly know about. Their eyes were wide with fright as they heard him glaze over the horrors of his life that kept him awake at night. He wanted to yell at them again to leave him alone but he could feel the chains grow heavy around his limbs as he continued to try and rub the feeling from his wrists. The potion he had taken earlier was wearing off and now he could feel his mind spiraling back into the abyss that he was standing in. It is not the same. It is not the same. He tried to repeat it to himself but with the pressure from the students and now staring ghosts at the party it was becoming harder and harder to accept that mantra. As they didn't respond to his outburst he gave a weak harsh laugh at them. "That's what I thought."

"Professor," Granger started, "we didn't mean to upset you-"

"That's a first," he muttered under his breath, intentionally just loud for them to hear.

"We just thought that meeting Paracelsus would help us in Alchemy class. He- well you, was supposed to be the wizard who-" Hermione started but her sentences started to blurr and string into nothing as Edward closed his eyes, trying to fight where his mind wanted to take him.

He's a witch! He's a witch! Burn him! It's the only way-

Edward's hands gripped his head as he tried to bat the voices away. He couldn't listen to them. He had to keep control. But his grip was quickly fading into nothing. The taunting laughs filled his ears where his student's voices should have been and the chains felt like they weighed a ton as they clamped around his limbs, trapping him in the dungeon. He felt a sudden mass of metal clamp around his shoulder and he yelped, spinning around and doing the best he could to fend them off. His automail arm clashed heavily with the suit of armor standing behind him and the hollow ring reverberated across the room. His eyes widened as he stared up into the empty face of his commanding officer. The suit held no emotions and yet Edward could picture the concerned black eyes of the Colonel looking down at him.

"Edward," he said calmly, trying to help him get a grip on himself. "Go upstairs. I think you have been down here long enough for tonight." Edward just stared at him for a few minutes as he processed what he was telling him however with another urge from his friend he found his feet stumbling away from the crowd that was forming around them. He caught the worried look on his students' faces but shook them away as he quickly made his way towards the door.

"Edward are you going to be alright?" Winry' voice asked him as his feet nearly tripped on the stairs he was frantically racing up. He shook his head, not able to really voice an answer. How was he supposed to face people knowing his past when he couldn't even face it himself?

……

Roy glared down at the three students before him. He felt a flame of anger ignite in him as he had just sent his subordinate back upstairs to get out of the dungeons. He was doing so well. He had worked the entire month just to come down here for his friend's sake and now three silly gryffindors had to ruin it by pushing him back to remembering his past in the worst of places. Edward just wasn't ready for it and now they had gone too far.

"What were you thinking?" he gritted as he stared the three of them down. The looked up at him, confused at what had just occurred with their Professor. "I am sure Sir Porpington had informed you that Elric was afraid of dungeons-"

"We were just-"

"Edward already was in such high tension being down here, now you had to push him relentlessly on a subject he can't even think about on a normal day. I know he told you he didn't want to talk about it and yet you kept pushing him. What gives you the right to know about what we have been through?" he scolded them. There was no answer as the Gryffindors decided to stare at the floor instead of him. Roy groaned to himself as he rested his helmet in the palm of his hands. He couldn't feel it, but the action was familiar enough to allow him some comfort to clear his head. There was suddenly low rumbles as the students grabbed their stomachs and Roy realised that they hadn't anything to eat. They were missing the feast being down there and obviously didn't know that there wasn't any edible food. He sighed as he reached up and unclipped the straps holding his chest plate on. He hated having to help the brats after what they did, but he couldn't let them go hungry. Afterall, being late for the feast would have surely gotten them in trouble. He opened up his chest cavity and pulled out the couple sandwiches that Edward had packed incase they got hungry. It wasn't a lot but it was enough to hold the students over for the evening. He handed it to them. They took it hesitantly.

"News is going to spread about who Edward really is and undoubtedly other students will grow as curious as you. However I would advise you if you weren't to push him too far too fast. He will open up in time… at least I can hope," he told them softly. "There is a lot about him you don't know."

"That's an understatement," he heard the redhead mumble but Hermione seemed to set him in his place with a jab to the ribs.

"Do you know him well?" the prophecy child asked. Roy would have smirked if he could, but he couldn't, not in that body.

"Better than anyone here."

……..

Edward sucked in a huge breath as he rubbed his red eyes roughly with the palm of his hands. After getting out of the dungeons and regaining some of his mind back from the hysteria he was lost in, he took to walking aimlessly down the hallways of the castle. His nerves felt numb and on fire at the same time and he didn't know what to do with himself. He just pictured that maybe if he kept walking he would figure it out. He didn't care where he going just so he was away, far away from the dungeons as he could possibly be.

Frustration and despair felt like they were battling each other inside of him as he tried to sort himself out. Had those stupid Gryffindors not been there maybe he would have been fine. Maybe he wouldn't have caused a scene at his friend's largest party in his death time. He growled to himself as he gripped his hair in anguish. Why did those kids have to figure out who he was? All of the faculty knew who he was but they knew not to mess with him. In fact, they were pretty intimidated by him. But students? They were too nosy for their own good. They were sure to barge in where they didn't belong and worse, spread the word. There would be no escape. None at all.

Another chill ran up his back and he felt his feet pick up a little bit as he walked. He couldn't stay there any longer. He could still feel the illusion of shackles around his wrists from being in the dungeons so long that night. He shouldn't have gone.

"Edward, you are safe. You aren't down there-"

"I know!" he exclaimed at Winry as he moved through the hallway. "I just have to get out of here. I can't stay here any longer-"

"But Brother you can't-" Alphonse started but Edward interrupted him.

"I know, I know, I KNOW!" Edward raged, picking up his speed. "I know I can't leave, I know I am safe. I know, I know! It still doesn't make a fucking difference! I can't get away from it!"

"You need to face it-"

"Obviously that is working terrifically!" he growled sarcastically.

"Talk about it, I mean," Winry explained. "Edward you know what they say about keeping everything bottled up, it's like carrying a weight for too long.Try talking to someone-"

"No."

"Why don't you want to talk to anyone? You know as well as we do that there is someone out there willing to listen," Winry scolded him. Edward glared down at the floor where his feet were storming across the stone. "You came so far already. You started to open up to the faculty. You went down into the dungeons for pete's sake. You weren't ever able to do that before-"

"And I don't think I will be able to do it again because of that stupid prophecy kid!" Edward retorted. "I don't want to talk to anyone because they don't know when to stop. They just push and push and push. Remembering that down there? I don't ever want to go down again."

"Those were the students, Brother, they were just excited," Alphonse reasoned.

"Didn't stop them from prying-"

"Try talking to someone your age-"

"Okay, I will be sure to check the obituary-"

"That could be a start," Alphonse noted like he was actually considering it. "Brother, Sir Porpington is dead, but you know him. You are friends. If anyone will understand it would be him-"

"Sir Porpington?" Edward repeated as he felt his footsteps slow down their pace to a brisk walk. He had talked to Nick a lot since he realized he was in the castle but never about himself in particular. He had told Nick about the stone but it was obvious he didn't know the full effects of it yet or exactly how Edward had come into possession of it. He was the only person on this side of the Gate that Edward was really close to still. Aside from Professor Ravenclaw, Nick was the only friend he actually made there. Edward played with the thought a bit but shook his head. Though he was close to Nick, he still didn't know about everything he went through. He didn't even know where to start to even try to make him understand. Edward dismissed the thought and pushed on in his walk, not liking how he had stood still for such a short period of time. He needed to keep moving to unwind.

The castle was quiet as everyone who would have normally been out and around would have been at the feast. Edward was by himself in the hallway, knowing that no one would disturb him on his walk. That, he was grateful for. After a good few minutes of walking to nowhere in particular he found that he had calmed down a little bit. He slipped his hands into his pockets underneath his cloak and sighed tiredly. He was just thinking about heading to bed when he heard a low soft whisper from down the corridor. He felt his feet stop in his tracks as he heard it.. Edward didn't think anyone else was out. He took a few steps forwards just to realise that it was coming right for him. It growing louder and more violent. It was blood thirsty.

"Erressto ska…..Erressto ska ske iass shishkeas!" he heard the haunting voice scream as it soared right past him like an invisible spectre. Edward turned around, his heart frozen in fear as he heard the voice start to retreat down the passageway. His feet on the other hand had a different idea. Edward chased after it remembering the horrible voice from before. It sounded like it wanted to kill and Edward didn't want to see the day when its dreams came true. He kept his eyes glued outside on the windows as he tried to search for any sign of the monster. It couldn't fit in the building, he couldn't see it. The only possible way was for it to be outside, but there still wasn't anything Edward could see at that point. It was just not there. In his determination to find the creature, he wasn't looking where he was going and tripped over something on the floor. A small bucket was kicked over by his clumsy boot and sent him to the ground. He landed prone right down into the spray of its contents. He cursed to himself as he pushed himself up, his body aching from the fall. He looked down at his mismatched hands to see them resting in a puddle of deep red. He brought them up closer to inspect them and he felt a gust of wind wipe out all of the hope in his body. It was blood. He let out a little shriek and stumbled up back from the puddle he was laying in. His eyes were wide as he stared at the horrific mess on the floor which now also coated his clothes.

"Oh my god," he heard Alphonse gasp from inside him. There were muffled shrieks of the people in the stone as they figured out what was going on outside of their own confinement. Edward yelped as he covered his ears in pain, hearing their voices overwhelm him. The fear that built up inside of the stone only added to his own.

"Shut up," he bit, gritting the words through his teeth. The chaos inside of him was understandable but even prevented him from thinking straight. The voices forced themselves to quiet down. Blood, where did it come from? Edward felt his mouth run dry as he begged to god it wasn't a student, that no one was hurt, but with that much there had to be something. Where was the serpent? What was this monster hunting? His heart was beating hard in his chest as he thought of all the endless possibilities. In his fall he had lost the sound of the voice and then lost his trail. If he didn't hurry he didn't know if he would find exactly where the voice or the blood came from.

 Edward, desperate to find the voice, picked himself up and jogged around the corner of the corridor. He didn't get far around the corner when his feet came to a halt. The entire floor was flooded with a good inch of water which was spewing out of the girls bathroom. Edward grimaced as he sloshed through it, watching the ripples in the water turn to waves as he waded through the mess. How did this happen? Nearly slipping on the wet floors, Edward looked down to catch his balance and suddenly froze in his place as his eye caught a horrifying reflection in the water. Words appeared to be floating on the water's surface but it was written on the wall in terrifying letters that were still red with fresh blood.

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware."

Edward's jaw dropped with a gasp as his own blood turned to ice. Hanging off of a post on the wall was the caretaker's cat Mrs. Norris. She was as stiff as a board like her whole body had been frozen where it stood. She hung by her tail, tortured and humiliated. Voices rose again inside him as the souls of the stone tried to figure out what was going on. He could hear the fear and confusion in them but couldn't comprehend them as his own mind was too transfixed on the sight before him. The only thing that tore him from his trance was a scream that came from the three Gryffindors he was trying desperately to get away from that evening.

"Look!" Hermione exclaimed as she ran towards the mess. Her eyes were wide in her own shock as she gazed upon the writing. "Professor, what happened-"

"You're covered in blood!" Ron pointed as he grabbed Hermione by the hand and pulled her back. Her eyes fluttered down to his clothes which were coated in a thick layer of blood. It drenched him to his skin and he wanted anything in the world to get it off of him. It felt like he was drowning in it.

"Professor, what happened? What did you do?" Harry asked him, concern flying through him.

"Why are you following me?" Edward growled out, his frustration and fear growing into anger in his voice. The mix of emotions inside of him swirled together in a chaotic mess and he couldn't sort them out. The students being there only made the matter worse. "Why aren't you with anyone. You shouldn't be out in the corridor alone-"

"We wanted to make sure you were okay, professor but-"

"What did you do?" Ron accused, cutting Hermione off as he . "Professor, you are covered in blood! What did you do?!" Sudden voices rose in the corridor as students were coming down the hallway to return to their dormitories for the evening. Edward felt his heart start to pick up its pace again and he turned his head away from the students back to the wall.

"You shouldn't be here. Don't let them catch you," Edward warned them as he sloshed over to the wall and reached up with his hands to untie the cat from its post. It came down in his arms like a bag of rocks and he caught it clumsily just as the first few students were rounding the corner.

"Professor-" Harry started, not giving heed to his advice and staying there in the mess of the matter. But he couldn't finish his statement as he was interrupted by a loud screeching from the now growing crowd.

"Mrs. Norris! My cat! What have you done with my cat?!" Argus Filch the caretaker of Hogwarts screamed as he shoved his way through the crowd and ripped his poor cat statue out of Edward's arms. His hands were shaking as he looked over in pure horror the remains of Mrs. Norris. "You killed her! You murderer!"

"I didn't kill her! I didn't touch your damned cat!" Edward retorted but the man's grimy hand wrapped around the collar of his cloak and roughly pulled him close.

"I'll kill you. I will bloody kill you for what you have done!" the man raged, keeping a tight hold of his cat as if he never wanted to let her go. Edward tried shoving the man off of him but only succeeded when a dreaded voice erupted out of the parting crowd.

"Argus stand aside," Dumbledore ordered as he broke through the students.

"But-"

"Argus," the man said more sternly. The hand released Edward's robes and he was lowered to the ground. The caretaker gave him a murderous stare as he backed away, letting the headmaster get a head in the situation. Dumbledore stepped towards him and Edward felt his muscles flare in aggravation as the beady eyes of the headmaster studied him. They judged him silently and Edward knew that the jury was not on his side.

"I didn't do it," he said coolly, the frustration, fear, and anger being swallowed in that sentence.

"Sir, should we send for the ministry of magic to look this over?" Edward heard Severus asked as he along with the heads of the houses stood almost frozen staring at the scene, each of which were more shocked than the first. "I do believe that even Azkaban is capable of holding the great Paracelsus." Edward felt like a knife was driven in his back as the potions master said that. He wasn't on best of terms with any of the faculty but for them to accuse him of dark magic so easily was almost unbearable. However, he was covered in blood.

"I didn't do it! I didn't kill Mrs. Norris. I don't even know what the chamber thing is!" Edward defended as he took a step back when he saw Snape reach into his robes to pull out his wand. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the other teachers following his lead. Edward had hope that if one person was on his side it would have been Minerva but after a second's thought she followed suit. Whispering rose in the corridor as the students gasped at the sight before them. Edward felt himself take another step back. "Come on! You have to believe me that I didn't kill her-"

"I do," Albus said. Edward felt the chains over him lighten ever so lightly as there was hope of understanding, but his face still showed no amusement. "Mrs. Norris isn't dead. She is petrified. That can only be performed with dark magic."

"Then it must have been them! They did it! They did it! They know I'm a… I'm a squib!" Filch raged as he jabbed a grimy finger towards the three Gryffindor students who had been caught with him in the corridor. The three of them backed away defensively from the man.

"No, Argus, this type of magic is beyond second year comprehension," Albus stated, seemingly just as annoyed with the caretaker as Edward was. "However, it isn't beyond the great Paracelsus," he stated flatly.

"Stop calling me that! Alchemy isn't magic!" Edward retorted. "It isn't even dark at that! I am not a wizard. I couldn't have done this-"

"You possess the philosopher's stone and are able to give conscious life to objects. By our books you could do anything," Dumbledore told him. "I believe this conversation is more well suited in my office. If you would follow me-"

"I bloody damn well know where your office is, you bastard!" Edward raged at him. "I know this looks bad but you of all people should know I didn't do this. We need to find who did before-"

"That is what we are doing. Now if you won't follow me you will find yourself in my office not of your own doing." Edward glared at the man with a burning fire. He wanted so badly to punch some sense into the man. He felt an itch to roll up his sleeves to begin a well needed brawl. After everything he had put him through that year, he now accuses him of murder at best. How far was the headmaster going to push him? There was only so much he was willing to handle. Edward saw the wizards’ grips on their wands tighten. His own muscles were tense and ready for action but he froze when he caught sight of the students watching with wide frightened eyes in the background. The three gryffindors that found him were especially confused as to the whole mess. As much as Edward wanted to teach the wizards a lesson, he knew the mess that his battles usually made. He couldn't fight when the students were in the way. They had nothing to do with this. Edward closed his eyes and forced his body to relax with a deep breath in and out.

"Fine," he hissed through his teeth. "I need to find the Colonel-"

"Filch, would you go find Master Elric's friend?" Dumbledore asked the caretaker who looked like he wanted to do anything but. The man growled, a horrible noise that sounded like Mrs. Norris was rising from the dead, and hobbled through the crowd of students to find the Colonel. Dumbledore gave further orders for the prefects to escort their houses back to their dormitories for the evening as Edward felt a harsh jab in the back from someone's wand. He turned to see Severus standing behind him with a smug grimace on his face.

"I bet you are loving this," Edward grumbled under his breath as he too marched through the crowd of students towards the headmaster's office. They all stared at him in a horrified awe as he passed.

"If it means we finally get answers to that stone of yours, yes," the man said simply. "It has nothing to do with you personally. A power like that shouldn't be kept in one man." Edward sighed as his statement was completely agreeable. Not one man should have the stone, but unfortunately he didn't have a choice. He could understand that the faculty were probably scared of him and with him being caught in the middle of a mess like that? It really didn't look good. Edward wished that the faculty would have listened to him though. For all they knew the students could be in danger. A message written in blood, odd voices? Edward didn't know what was going on and he was scared to find out. However, now he was just very nervous for what Albus was obviously planning. He could tell in his eyes that the man knew he didn't do it. He was planning something and Edward would be damned if he got caught on the wrong side again.

…...

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 12

The Mask

Edward crossed his arms as he stood across from Dumbledore's desk, his best scowl on his face. The clock was ticking late into the night and all of the wizards that stood in the room were looking at him expectantly like he was just going to confess to everything and call it a night. Their wands were still out and cocked but they looked like they weren't going to use them. It was all for practicality.

"You know I didn't do it," Edward huffed as time started to wear on him. The headmaster narrowed his eyes at him as they started their stand off.

"Why were you in the corridor and not at the feast?" he questioned him and Edward rolled his eyes in annoyance to the man's repetitive questions.

"I was at Nick's Deathday party and… well, I couldn't stay in the dungeons so I left for a few moments. Is it a crime to walk in the corridors?" Edward retorted, raising his eyebrow accusingly at him. The headmaster didn't seem at all convinced by his story even though it was the truth. Edward let out a hot breath of air as he realised that he would need to elaborate in hopes of him accepting the story. "Nick invited me to his party, I went but in the middle those three blasted Gryffindors came and I ended up having to step out cause of….. They were there, as well as Nick and Mustang. They knew what happened," he grumbled, turning his gaze to the floor in shame.

"Yes, I believe that that many people would be able to hold your story. I do understand that the three students weren't at the feast either. And as Severus has informed me you do seem to have a fear of dungeons. However, there was still enough time for you to vandalize the castle and petrify-"

"I didn't do it!" Edward snapped at him, not letting him finish his accusation.

"Should we try the veritaserum?" Severus suggested next to him and Edward looked at the potions master in disbelief. He bared his teeth at him, ready to give the fickle man a piece of his mind but the headmaster raised his hand to silence the argument. The room was held in a quiet trance as the headmaster continued to study him.

"What do you know of the Chamber of Secrets?" the man asked him after a short pause. It seemed like he was genuinely inquiring.

"Nothing."

"So a person who learned under the founders of Hogwarts had no idea that he was building a legend in the castle?" Dumbledore challenged lightly. Edward looked at him like he had kumquats growing from his ears.

"Albus, they are legends at best. None of this is based on fact," Minerva tried reasoning.

"It could be a student heard of it and-" Sprout started to think.

"But the cat was petrified, a student couldn't have done that," Flitwick stated. "I would hate to say it was Mr. Elric, but he is the only one in the castle really capable of doing something like this."

"We can't go accusing him. We need evidence!" Minerva retorted.

"The facts, Minerva, lay within Paracelsus here," the headmaster said calmly as he waited for Edward to reply. That didn't take long.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Edward exclaimed. "The only thing I know about this is that someone wrote this 'chamber thing' on the walls and now I am standing here accused of petrifying a dumb cat! I will have you know that Alphonse was with me the entire time and if he saw me even try and hurt a cat he would kick me to Drachma and back without hesitation. I didn't do it!"

"Drachma?" Edward heard Pomona whisper to herself under her breath as she was confused from his list of nonexistent places. If only they knew. The headmaster ignored her confusion and continued his interrogation.

"Paracelsus," the man said after a long pause, "the Chamber of Secrets is a legend that stretches back to when the school was founded. You know Slytherin had a distaste of muggles, correct?"

"Yes," he confirmed something that he had to learn the hard way. "I got on the wrong end of that argument many times."

"To prevent the inclusion of muggle born students in the school it was said that Slytherin hid a monster within the walls of the castle in a room known as the Chamber of Secrets. Upon releasing the creature, which could only be done by the worthy heir of Slytherin, the school would be purged of its impure inhabitants and Slytherin would get the school he had dreamed of-"

"That's absurd. If there was a giant monster in the castle, why hasn't anyone found it? I obviously wouldn't be too keen if I saw a giant four headed godzilla walking around the corridor!" Edward shouted as he waved his hand in the air at the ludicrous idea.

"Which is why it is surely a legend!" Minerva interrupted in agreement. But the headmaster's eyes didn't address her. They were locked on Edward the entire time as if there was some underlying fact Edward was missing.

"You think I am the heir? That is bull shit! Do you know what he did to me? He tried stealing the stone from me. He used and sold me like a weapon! He tried to kill me for Christ sake. Why the fuck would I be the heir of that bastard?"

"You came to me earlier in the year saying that you heard a snake in the castle-"

"Yes and guess who didn't believe me?! I heard it again tonight if that just makes things worse," Edward retorted but shocked gasps raised amongst the faculty. Edward raised his eyebrow as he glanced at the wizards around him curiously.

"Parseltongue is hereditary with only a few occurrences happening outside the family of Slytherin. You were fairly close to Slytherin. I doubt he would try to unlock the inherited potential of parseltongue if he wasn't sure," Dumbledore said stiffly. Whispers rose and the frightened words licked the anxiety that was filling him.

"So you are a parselmouth," Flitwick accused.

"N-no! I mean… I can hear them I don't know what they are saying. I can't speak it-" Edward started to defend himself but the aroused wizards wouldn't listen to him. Whispers of how Edward was the descendant or relative of the old founder ignited and he felt the accusations pressing in on him. "I can't be the heir it is physically impossible!" Edward stumbled as he tried to make the wizards hear him. "I am not related to anyone."

"You have a brother," Severus sniped quickly pushing down his retort. "Surely a mother and a father are not out of the question-"

"It's complicated," he growled at the man.

"Paracelsus, receiving an odd answer is better than none. We need to know," Dumbledore pushed. "With the events that have arisen within the walls of the school we must assume that you are somehow involved. Even though it is a legend, so are you. You have a power that no one in the wizarding world can fully understand and on top of this you have the ancient philosopher's stone. Whether intentional or not you pose a great threat to this school. I have let you run free around the castle without taking precaution against the stone. With what has happened this evening I am forced to have to control it before anyone gets hurt-"

"Free? You call this free? I cannot leave the walls of the castle because you trapped me here! If you were afraid for the safety of the castle you should just let me go! The stone is safe with me-" Edward yelled at him.

"And yet you managed to have it stolen from you," Severus muttered. Edward sent the man a heated glare.

"You don't know half of the story," he breathed at him, feeling ready to punch the wizard's face in.

"We need you here-" Dumbledore started but he didn’t get close to finishing.

"To do WHAT!? You need me for what? The only thing you have done since I came here was intrude on my personal life and accuse me of murder!" Edward raged at the headmaster, jabbing a finger accusingly at him. "You need me and then you try to cage me like a fucking animal. Why don't you just lock me in a broom closet and wait till you need me besides all of this backwards talk, huh? I am not a fucking toy for you to mess with!"

"That was our last option," Dumbledore said not even denying that he was thinking about it. Edward frowned as he scowled at the headmaster who was trying to one up him even then.

"Why am I here? I am sure the rest of your faculty would love to know as much as I," Edward hissed. The headmaster seemed less than phased as an invisible smirk played on his face. Edward felt his muscles tense as Dumbledore stood up and opened a drawer on his desk. A rag wrapped package was lifted out of it and set gently on top of the desk. It was wrapped in a dusty old cloth that someone seemed to have grabbed off of the ground for the sole purpose of covering something up. It was something someone wanted to keep hidden. He felt a growing pit in his stomach as the anger poured in in hopes of drowning his fear. It was as if a dark aura radiated off it and for some reason Edward didn’t want the man to uncover it. Yet he needed to know. He needed to know what the man was planning, even if it wasn’t that good. The headmaster looked at him tentatively as he reached to undo the cloth. The instant he did Edward wished he hadn’t. The hollow eyes of his nightmares gazed back at him, the twisted iron of the tortured face screeched in horror as Edward stared at it. He found himself sinking into the pit of his fears, anger being swept behind him with a gust of wind. He was simply drowning. The air in his chest felt heavy and every muscle in his body seemed to freeze as if winter had come at last.

Albus picked up the mask and Edward found himself wanting to run out of the room but his feet were stuck to the stone floors. Absolute fear had taken over him. He could hear his friends in the stone calling out to him, begging him to calm down or do something but their voices were a blur, drowned out in the ocean of panic that filled him. Some of the other faculty were looking at each other, rather confused as to what it was.

“The masks of infamy have been commonly known for a while and yet this one is peculiar to me,” Albus said calmly as he rounded the corner of the desk. Edward found himself taking a staggering step back but his legs felt like they were filled with lead and it was painstakingly slow. “For something so simple to be able to contain so much raw power… well, it is very peculiar indeed. And I think it might come in much use to us in the future.”

“Y-you can’t… you…. B-bastard,” Edward hissed shakily as he forced his mouth to attempt to voice his shattered words. He had so much he wanted to say and yet he couldn’t seem to form sentences as he stared at the horrifyingly gaped mouth of the mask. How much stuff, poisons, food, unmentionable thing did he have shoved down that thing when he was entrapped in it? How much time did he spend trapped in his own body, alone behind a mask? How many people couldn’t tell he was human all because of that bloody iron cage strapped to his head? Edward found his hands shoot up to his face as if he was going to try and rip the blasted thing off of him, even though he knew for a fact it wasn’t on him. Instead that thing was held in the hands of a man Edward wanted to consider to be his enemy but didn’t have the heart to until that evening. Albus gave a small smirk as he knew he had found the one thing the Eastern Sage couldn’t fight. He went to take another step closer and Edward reeled back like he was holding poison.

“Why do you have it?!” Edward scolded. “Why do you have that…. Ungodly object here?”

“As a precaution,” Albus said simply.

“I locked it away! No one knew where it was. I locked it away so no one could use it… God damn it Albus, why you crazy old bat, why can’t you just leave me alone?!” Edward begged as he saw the man take another step closer. He felt his back hit Severus who was standing behind him like a wall. Edward's eyes widened, unable to look away from the iron entrapment. He felt his heart freeze over and he couldn't seem to move. He was stuck.

"Albus, I don't think this is necessary!" Minerva stumbled as she looked back and forth between Edward and the mask. "As I believe Mr. Elric stated before, he agreed to help us. Though there is much we don't know about him, I think it is assumed that he is not a criminal!" She took a step forward to try and break up the tension but Severus held out his arm to stop her. Dumbledore was inching ever closer to Edward and he could almost feel the ghost of the cold metal wrapping itself around his face and sending him back to those years of darkness.

"We need you here, Paracelsus, not only for our students’ benefits or the stone’s, but yours. I know that if I simply tell you, you wouldn’t accept it as you are not one to delve into future magics. What we do now might be hard, but I promise it will all work out for you in the end of the semester. There is an opportunity for you to go home. That is, if you are on the right side. What happened in the corridor is concerning. All we need, Paracelsus, is an explanation," the headmaster said softly. Edward felt his breath catch in his throat as the headmaster attempted to take one more step near him. He didn't know where to go as his back was pressed as far as it could go into the wall that was Severus behind him. An icy cold filled his blood and his body became a statue of stone, unable to move. His eyes were locked on the cold metal mask which for ages has haunted his nightmares and dreams. The man was speaking about something odd but none of it reached Edward's ears as the mask was near inches from him. However, suddenly, it was gone.

Minerva stood firmly between him and the mask, holding her wand up to prevent it from coming any closer. She looked upset and slightly betrayed as she stood between him and the headmaster who she had trusted for a very long time.

“Albus, I do not know what this mask does, but with how much Mr. Elric fears it I don’t like it one bit. I agree with you that we do need an explanation from Mr. Elric as to what is going on but I do not agree with torturing him!” she scolded the headmaster, who looked slightly shocked at her standoff.

“Stand aside, Minerva,” Severus growled at her.

“I will not, Severus!” she haughtily replied. However, it didn’t matter what she said as the potions master tried to push her to the side. The woman took one step before she brought her wand around and braced it underneath the potion master’s chin, right at his throat. 

“We just want to get some answers to help you-“ Albus started but something had snapped in Edward. His crippling fear had broken into a burning rage that boiled inside of him as he saw the headmaster with the mask. It was another wizard, another person willing to silence him. He would be damned if he let it happen again. Confusion turned into conviction and fear turned into action.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone!” he yelled at the headmaster. The man attempted to take another step towards him, but Edward already found himself slapping his hands together into a clap. With the sizzle of alchemic energy, the blade of his automail extended and he slashed out towards the old man. The mask clattered to the ground as the headmaster pulled back his lightly cut hands. Shocked gasps and cries rang out from the wizards around the room and Edward heard incantations start to leave their lips. He ducked down to the ground and the spells flew towards him as he snagged the mask from where it laid. The cool metal sent shivers up his spine. The raw negative power that irradiated from it nearly made him drop it.

“Edward! Take it! Take it!” he heard his brother cry and his grip instantly tightened around the metal. Alphonse was right. There was no way in hell he was letting the wizards get it once more.

As he was regaining his balance, he saw the tips of the wizard’s wands light up for another spell but they never hit. Minerva was standing between him and the rest of the faculty with the strongest shield spell he had seen in recent years. Edward clapped his hands together and touched the ground to draw up a wall. As the stone grew he heard spells ricochet. They had gotten through. Minerva's shield was down. 

Severus emerged from around the side of the wall and lunged towards Edward with a spell of his own. Edward danced to the side and charged at the potions master. Severus brought his arms up to block his blade but it never came. Edward instead dodged to the right and backhanded the man out of the way with the hard metal of the mask as he shot past towards the doors of the office. Spells flew past him as he sprinted towards his one escape route. He didn’t know where he was going. Even if he got out of the office he was still trapped in the castle itself, but at least he could get away from the headmaster.

Just as he reached the doors, they flew open as Filch was entering with the Colonel in tow. Edward instantly dropped to the floor and slid between the squib’s and the Colonel’s legs into the staircase. The armor didn’t even hesitate as he brought up his fingers and snapped. Fire exploded behind him as Edward felt a rough leather glove grab him by his cloak and haul him to his feet.

“I leave you for ten minutes and you blow up the fucking place, Fullmetal!” he heard Roy scold him as they sprinted down the staircase. Edward could hear the many angered cries of the wizards behind him as they began to file down the stairwell after them. “What the hell-“

“Take this!” he shouted. The Colonel fumbled to catch the mask of infamy as Edward threw it at him. It took only one glance at the thing for the man to catch onto what was happening. He held no comment as they sprinted down the stairwell, the situation more severe than the armored man had originally thought. Edward shook out the horrible feeling of the mask from his hands and skidded to a halt at the bottom of the stairwell. He clapped his hands together and slammed them to the ground as he saw the wizards start to reach the entranceway. The walls of the corridor quickly swallowed up the entrance of the stairwell and trapped them all inside of the office. Silence consumed the hallway where there once was angered cries of spells and chaos. Edward stood up slowly, watching the wall as if he was afraid it would give out at any moment.

“Where are we going now, Edward? We are trapped in the castle,” Roy reminded him as he tucked the mask behind him to keep it outside of Edward’s line of sight. The blonde alchemist would have been grateful for the motion had he not been planning to continue without the man.

“You mean where I am going, Colonel,” he huffed as he held out his hand. Realizing what was going on, Roy moved to stop him. However, with a twitch of his fingers, the soul that was trapped in the armor quickly flew back to Edward’s hands. The flames danced around on his finger tips and he quickly touched it back to his chest where the rest of the philosopher’s stone quickly absorbed it once more. He heard Roy yell at him from within the stone and demand to be brought out once more.

“Colonel, I can’t,” Edward scolded the man a he made his way over to the fallen suit of armor. “I can’t leave the castle. This will eventually go south. If you are outside of the stone and the mask is used….” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence as he didn’t want to think about it. As much as the Colonel was a capable fighter and could save him from the wizards, no matter what they would eventually lose. When that happened, he knew the mask would trap him once more. He already lost so much to it. He couldn’t picture losing anyone else from the stone too.

He felt the fear that he had swallowed for a short period of time come back and consume him. No matter what he did it was coming. Those blasted wizards were going to trap him again and there was nothing he could do about it. The cool metal of the mask slid over his face and Edward’s hands instantly flew up to rip it off. But of course, it was not there.

“Brother, we understand. It is alright. It is not on you remember? You got it away from them,” Alphonse reminded him. He was right. The mask was laying face down on the stone floor in front of him where the Colonel had dropped it when he got pulled back into the stone. The horrid metal glimmered in the torch light of the hallway and mocked him as his mind was playing tricks on him. Fear jarred in his stomach as he stared down at it. He felt like he was going to vomit.

Closing his eyes, Edward took his cloak off of his shoulders and wrapped it around the mask as he picked it off the ground. Just holding it made his chest tighten. As much as he wanted to leave it, he could not let the wizards grab a hold of it again.

“Edward, take a deep breath. Keep your head on straight and fight,” he heard Hohenheim order him. “We cannot help you in here. This is up to you.”

“Keeping my head on straight is more help than you can even imagine,” Edward whispered as he resumed his sprint down the hallway. The wizards were bound to break out of the office at some point. He just hoped that he would be a decent way away from them at that point. Unfortunately he was not that lucky. Just as he rounded the corridor into the adjacent hallway, a loud explosion rang out through the castle.

….

“Who would petrify Mrs. Norris?” Hermione pondered as the three Gryffindors paced around the common room. All of the other students were ordered into bed after the horrifying scene near the girls bathroom. However, the three second years could not sleep after what they had seen. The caretaker’s cat had been petrified and there was a blood-written message across the wall at the flooded girl's bathroom. If it was a Halloween joke, it wasn’t funny.

“It had to be Professor Elric. Didn’t you see him? He was covered in blood! He looked like an axe murderer!” Ron exclaimed like the answer was quite obvious. To most people, that was the answer. Professor Elric had been caught red handed at the scene, covered in the blood that had written the message. With no one else around, there wasn’t anyone else who it could have been. However, Harry felt like this was not the case. They had just seen Professor Elric a few minutes prior in the dungeons at Nick’s party. Though he surely had enough time to petrify a cat and write the message, he was not in any state to.

“I don’t think he did it, Ron. Professor Elric was scared from the dungeons. I don’t think he would have been able to do it. Remember?” Harry reminded him. They all drew silent for a short period as they remembered what had happened in the dungeons. They all felt terrible about terrifying their professor like they had. They just want to learn more about the great Paracelsus. After the professor’s friend had told them about what they did and what their professor had gone through, they left the dungeons to apologize to the man. Unfortunately, that was when they had found Professor Elric covered in blood.

“You heard what Dumbledore said!” Ron argued. “He was the only one capable of doing dark magic. He has alchemy and the stone!”

“Alchemy is not magic, Ron!” Hermione scolded him. “I don’t think he could have petrified Mrs. Norris with alchemy without killing her. But… the stone is another thing. Professor Elric said in the beginning of the year that the stone did not exist. I don’t think he would be telling us not to meddle with it if he didn’t know the dangers about it.”

“He could be wanting to keep it all to himself! We know he wanted it enough to barge into school in the beginning of the year. He can make suits of armor come to life! He has it and must be using it somehow!”

“I thought you were excited to see the great Paracelsus, Ron,” Hermione taunted him as she wanted to defend the professor.

“That was before he was a murderer!”

“Hey, I don’t think that Professor Elric did it, but the headmaster is already talking to him about it. Whatever happens I think they would get to the bottom of it right?” Harry offered. His two friends who were on very opposite sides of the argument nodded their heads.

“But, Harry, aren’t you a bit concerned?” Hermione said to him. “What if someone else gets petrified while they are figuring it out?”

“It would be because Professor Elric escaped or something. Think about it! He has the philosopher’s stone. I don’t care how powerful Dumbledore is, a five against one with the stone isn’t enough!” Ron retorted.

“I don’t think they are going to have to fight, Ron! They are just talking! It isn’t like its going to get physic-“

BOOM! Hermione was cut of as there was a loud explosion that shook the whole tower. Screams could be heard from both the boys and girls dormitories as they were shaken awake by the noise. The three Gryffindors raced over to the closest window that faced the headmaster’s tower and looked out. Smoke was rising from the castle walls as Hermione was just proven wrong.

“See?! See?!” Ron shouted at her as Harry instantly bolted up to his room and ripped his cloak out of his trunk. All of his roommates were asking questions and running about the room in chaos. None seemed to notice he had entered and left. When he returned to the common room, Hermione and Ron instantly saw the invisibility cloak.

“Harry, don’t go out!” Hermione and Ron yelled at him at the same time.

“He has the stone! You can’t fight him!” Hermione exclaimed.

“We barely handled You Know Who without it, mate!”

“I am not going to fight the professor, I am just going to figure out what is going on,” Harry replied before he dragged the cloak over his shoulders and sprinted away from his friends. He would have taken them with him, but there was little room under the cloak. He would have to run in order to catch up to the professors and he wouldn’t have his two friends get caught incase things went south. They shouted after him but their voices were silenced as the dormitory portrait closed.

…..

Edward cursed as he sprinted down the corridor as fast as he could. He heard the wizards casting spells behind him but he would turn the corner before the hexes even left their wands. He was too far away for them to get him, but he was too close for comfort. Far too close for comfort.

Just as he rounded the bend into the Grand Staircase a hot white bolt came out of nowhere and missed his ear by inches. He tucked himself close to the wall as he sped up the stairs. Edward clapped his hands and scraped his hand against the wall. He drew silicon out of the stone and ingrained it into his gloves. As he cleared the next floor he spun around to see Severus and Flitwick enter the stairwell. He snapped his fingers and a burst of fire hurdled itself towards the growing crowd of professors. Cheers of shock and fear rose up with the painting as the wizards ducked back into the safety of the corridor. The flames charred the stonework of the castle but left the wizards unharmed. It wasn’t precise like Mustang’s but the wave of fire was enough for him to clear another flight of stairs before more spells were shot at him.

He tumbled away from another bolt of light and into the seventh-floor corridor. The mask in his hands almost slipped out of his grip but he held fast to it as he clapped his hands once more and sealed the entrance to the stairwell shut behind him. The stone gobbled up the wizard’s path to him and he knew that for at least a few more seconds, he was safe. He felt his legs slow from their run and soon he was leaning against the wall trying to catch his breath. He knew he was wasting time, but he didn’t know how much farther he could go.

“Brother, you need to keep moving! What are going to do now?”

“I don’t know, Al!” he scolded his brother. He wanted to sound authoritative, but he only sounded scared. In truth, he was terrified as it was only a matter of time until he was caught.

“You need to hide somewhere. It will give you more time to-“

“Then what, Al? Then what?! They are going to find me and then…” Edward closed his eyes and ran his free hand through his hair. He couldn’t think about that now he needed to stay focused. However, that was increasingly hard when he was holding the horrifying mask in his own hand. He hadn’t touched the darn thing in over six hundred years and yet it still held a terrifying amount of power over him. He heard the people in the stone try and to keep his thoughts on track. He took a deep guided breath and shook his mind free of cob webs. He couldn’t get lost now. Edward opened his mouth to apologize to his brother for yelling but there was a sudden dulled thud coming from the other side of the wall he made. The wizards were trying to break it down.

“No,” Edward whispered as he took stumbling steps backward before he turned to sprint out of there. However, he barely made it three steps before he was tripping over some unseen force. He collided with the ground, the mask flying from his hold and skittering across the floor. He groaned as he looked back behind him where he tripped and saw none other than Harry Potter appearing from thin air. The student was standing in the middle of the hallway with his wand pointed at him and a silken cape down by his side.

“Potter-“ he started to say as he pushed himself off of the floor.

“Professor, what did you do down in the corridor? Why are you attacking the headmaster?” the kid interrogated him without a flicker of fear in his voice. Edward now knew why the foolish prophecy kid was in Gryffindor of all houses.

“I didn’t hurt or attack anyone! It was Dumbledore that attacked me!” Edward scolded the student. He heard the chaos in the stairwell grow. Time was running out. He needed to move but Harry held his wand on him, ready to cast a spell at any moment.

“Dumbledore is a good man,” Harry defended.

“Good people can still do horrible things, Harry. You are going to find out one day that Dumbledore is not who you think he is,” Edward told him. He turned around to grab the mask from where it was thrown but a spell hit the ground near his feet.

“I can’t let you go, Professor,” the kid said, standing his ground like he though a disarming charm would do anything to stop him.

“He can’t hurt you, Edward. He’s a second year. Just grab the mask and go,” Hohenheim berated him. He wanted to follow his father’s orders but the explosions at the stairwell grew louder and louder. They were breaking through any second. The ground was trembling in the force of the spell’s wake. Edward saw dust of the stone shake and fall to the ground and he knew he only had a few more seconds left. Ofcourse the kid was in the way. Edward heard a couple more spells hit the wall and he knew his time was up. He rushed towards the young wizard. Harry looked like he was about to cast a spell but he was not quick enough. Edward grabbed him by the robes and threw the kid behind him just before the wall exploded. Blasts of rubble flew towards them and Edward clapped his hands and held out his automail hand to disperse the energy. The mass of the stone was deterred away from them but one of the heavier rocks hit his automail arm. As his arm took the hit, his exposed automail blade sliced into his own shoulder. He was sent to his knee and the red sparks of the philosopher’s stone lit up around him.

Edward looked up towards the entranceway to see the Hogwarts professors file into the corridor one by one. Even McGonagall was there, having been untied from the charm, though her wand was detained by Severus. Harry, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. Edward moved to clap his hands one more time to build another wall but the never made it. Ropes shot out of thin air and instantly wrapped themselves around him. They tangled around his legs and bound his arms to his chest, making him lose his balance before he fell and collapsed to the ground. He heard the people in the stone yell at him to get up and run but no matter how he writhed on the ground, he couldn’t slip out of the binds. Panic made his heart race in his chest as he watched the headmaster quickly reclaim the mask from where it was dropped. Edward continued to fight the ropes around him, trying to move his arms, his hands, anything to get free but it wasn’t working. He should have ran. He knew it was fruitless but he should have ran when he had the chance. He cursed Harry for distracting him.

The mass of the faculty began to walk towards him as Albus carried the mask over to him. Their wands were up, but they seemed to be starting to relax as they saw him trapped there. Edward, on the other hand, became more frantic as he saw the metal thing trapped in the headmaster’s grip.

“Don’t… Stop!” he choked as Albus knelt down next to him. He tried to push himself away from the elderly man but Severus was ontop of him near instantly to hold him down. Edward bucked and kicked and yet it made no difference to the wizards.

“Master Elric, we only need you to answer our questions. The mask will come off when we know you’re not a threat,” Albus warned him though it did little to ease the horror that had encased Edward’s mind. He quickly lowered the mask and began the process of trapping him in it. Edward fought every second he had for freedom, but it was absent and never came. He felt his jaw forcefully pried open as the cool metal was pressed down over him. Tears streamed down his face as he begged and cried for it to stop. He couldn’t get stuck behind it again. He wouldn’t go back there. As the runes inside of the mask were pressed down on his face he heard the voices in the stone become faint, like their horrified yells were only whispers. He desperately tried to shake his head to get it off of him but the potion’s master held him firm.

“Brother!,” he heard the fainted voice of his brother call to him. The fear the had built up in Edward’s chest finally exploded in a terrified scream. His voice, muffled by the mask, was released in a howl as red alchemic energy picked up around him. Albus, Severus, and the other wizards were thrown backwards as large stone hands raised out of the ground and slammed them to the wall. The force of the impact made them drop their wands where they were as the hands melded to the walls and held them in place. The ropes around Edward’s chest disintegrated and he instant sat up, bringing his hands to his face and flinging the mask off of him. The voices of the stone returned full force and consumed his mind. He clutched his head in his hands as the voices and emotions made it feel like he was going to explode. He screamed in pain and terror as tears streamed down his face. The voices died down from their own panic, but Edward’s still stayed.

“Edward calm down. Breathe. Breathe!” he heard Hohenheim order him. His breaths were overlapping each other, as his body began to shake and hyperventilate. Sobs began to wrack his chest as he dropped his head down into his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he sobbed as he tried to breathe but his lungs weren’t working. He choked and sobbed as his mind swam. The sheer terror of the mask had swallowed him whole and he felt like he was going to die.

“Edward, it is alright. You are safe. Focus on us. Breathe in,” Winry commanded him and he followed. “Breathe out. Good. Do it again.”

“Edward, we are here. The mask was removed. You are free. You are safe. Keep breathing,” Roy said, continuing the soothing mantra that Winry was whispering to him. Edward followed their orders and focused on his breathing. He counted them in and he counted them out. Minutes had passed until it felt like he wasn’t going to pass out but eventually, he was breathing fine. He was alright. He was safe.

“I’m sorry. It was an accident. I was scared. I didn’t mean to use the stone,” Edward repeated himself as he quickly wiped the tears from his face. He felt like an idiot. He was afraid to lose the stone because of the mask and yet he was foolish enough to accidentally use the souls inside of it. He couldn’t get his hands together. He couldn’t free himself. Because of that, he accidentally could have killed someone.

“Wh-who was it?” Edward whispered, afraid to hear the name of the person he killed.

“Jeremiah. He was a friend of mine from Xerxes, along with Lauraine,” Hohenheim told him as if that made it any better. “Neither of them had bodies to return to back home. They were ready.”

“Damnit. Damnit!” Edward cursed himself as he gripped his head between his hands.

“Edward it will be okay,” he heard his father try and to tell him.

“No it won’t! No it won’t!” Edward growled at him. Anger and frustration built up in him. Even though many people inside the stone said it was okay, and tried to reason with him, he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t okay and he would be damned if it ever would be.

 “Look what you made me do!” he yelled at the headmaster who was still pinned to the wall. Edward pushed himself off of the ground and stumbled over to him on weak legs. “Look at what you fucking made me do! I used the fucking stone are you fucking happy? Damnit!”

“Paracelsus, calm down-“

“Calm down? Calm down?! Two people died tonight because you wouldn’t leave me alone! Others lost years off their life because I simply used the bloody stone!” he scolded them. The headmaster and the rest of the faculty looked shocked and confused. Edward scoffed at them, the anger and disappointment boiling up inside of him as he saw their sad faces.

“You are all the same, aren’t you?! Loyal to blood. Loyal to wands. And arrogant with your fucking magic. I left the wizarding world because of this, and it looks like it still hasn’t changed!” he berated them like children.

“The stone was never meant to exist. It wasn't meant be contained by alchemy or magic. It isn't an object, it is alive. I have 50,875,620 lives inside of me. Many of them people I knew, others I have gotten to know only because of the stone. Every single time the stone is used, someone pays for it! The first rule of alchemy. Equivalent fucking exchange. I realized this as a child and you wizards couldn’t figure it out after a thousand years!

“All of these manipulation games you are playing, Albus, I know you think they are for the better, but you don’t know what you are playing with! One of these days someone is going to get hurt and people are going to find out. Then no one will trust you."

Silence stretched through the hallway as no one had anything to say for themselves. They were defenseless and couldn’t hide behind their wands anymore. Edward looked down to the ground to where all of their wands were dropped. He bent over and picked one up, instantly feeling the energy held within it. He could say one word, give it one flick, and be free of the castle within the minute. But he wasn’t Dumbledore and didn’t gamble with people’s lives. Edward quickly picked the wands off the floor one by one until he had all five of the professor’s wands. He grabbed his red cloak off the floor where it was discarded and dropped the wands in the wand pocket on the inside that had long stood empty of its original host. The looks on the wizards’ faces looked like they wanted to protest, but they knew better than that. Edward clapped his hands and touched the floor, releasing the teachers from their entrapment.

“I can’t leave still. I can’t use your wands at risk of taking down the entire castle, but I sure as hell am not giving them to you.”

"Master Elric, we need to know about the chamber, about the stone-"

"I already told you, you zounderkite, that I know nothing! The idea that you even think me the heir is ludicrous! It's insulting. I am not related to anyone on the face of this goddamn lousy planet!" Edward shouted at him. "Don't you see? I am not from here! I didn't invent alchemy. I brought it here. So I think I fucking know what I am talking about when I say I am not fucking related to anyone!"

"You- You're not from here?" Minerva asked as if she heard of everything but that. Edward’s glare softened when he saw her. She was the only person amongst them to stand up for him. She fought against the headmaster when she knew it was wrong. He felt sorry for attacking her, but what was done was done. He slowly nodded his head.

"And every minute I waste in this bloody world is another minute I and everyone in the stone can't live back home,” he whispered. A solemn aura fell over the hallway but Edward pushed through it. He was, after all, very well acquainted with loss. He strode over to where the mask was discarded and stared at it. Shivers were sent up his spine as he stared into the lifeless eyeholes of the mask. He wanted to throw up but shoved down the feeling as he picked it up in his automail hand.

“I am going to my room. I would suggest you find yourselves new wands,” he huffed as he stumbled out the broken doorway and back into the staircase. The chaos of the battle had ended, but signs of the fight still remained scarred on the stone walls. Edward didn’t care to fix it as he slowly made his way down the steps. It would be washed away with a simple flick of a wand from another professor once the morning came. It would be almost like it didn’t happen. When Edward reached his landing, he looked back up the stair cases to see he gathering of wizards staring down at him. They looked very upset, but Edward couldn’t tell if it was because they had betrayed him, or because they were missing their wands. He didn’t spend time figuring it out, he just shook the ideas from his head and continued towards his own chambers. As much as he wanted to imagine life going back to how it used to be in the castle, he knew it never would. Not with the mask, not with the stone, not with the chamber of secrets.

……

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 13

The Apology

 “Brother, you need to sleep.”

Edward heard his brother urge him again for the tenth time that evening as he sat curled up in his desk chair in his chambers staring numbly down at the pile of wands he had tossed there. They were each different, marking the spellcaster’s own unique personalities and traits. However, he felt disappointed at how similar they all were; worn to the bone from years of over use and all had been pointed at him without a second thought. Edward wanted to be angry at the professors for attacking him. He wanted to be sad for the rift that was torn between them. But he didn’t feel a thing. A wave of indifference had overcome him as he stared down at the wands infront of him. The only thing he felt was numb. They had all attacked him. They had used the mask against him. He had the right to feel something. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what had happened, how horribly wrong that evening had went. He was supposed to have fun at a party with his old friend. Now he was the owner of five new wands and the horrible mask he had wanted to keep hidden forever.

Edward glanced down to the bottom drawer of his writing desk. The marks of a hastily made transmutation were very visible around the desk as he had locked the mask away as fast as he could. He didn’t want to see it ever again. But he felt that even the several layers of material, stone, wood, and cloth, he used to seal it away were not enough to keep it out of his mind. A shiver was sent up his spine and he quickly looked away from the drawer. He dropped his head into his hands and weaved his fingers through his hair as he grinded the palms of his hands into his forehead. He wanted all of this to go away.

“You need to eat.” He heard his brother’s nagging and he desperately wanted to reply but his mouth couldn’t seem to voice the words that his mind was spinning. He didn’t think there were any words for it at all. Instead of answering his brother, he kept his mouth glued shut with shame. He could hear the concerned voices in the stone whisper back and forth. They were rightfully worried.

“Brother, are you going to be alright?” Edward found himself shaking his head in hopes to answer his little brother. He heard his brother talk lightly amongst his friends in the stone, but the words were a blur.

“Do you want us to come out?” He heard his little brother offer. He nodded his head, keeping it down in his hands. He wanted to bring Alphonse out of the stone. He wanted someone there with him. However, he did not move to make the armor or to release his brother from the stone. He only sat there holding his head.

“Ed?” Alphonse asked again. The worry in his brother’s voice made him bend down and clap his hands. He watched himself build the armor and cast the single soul from the stone into it. The armor shook to life and Edward found himself instantly in his brother’s arms. The armor was familiar, something that had never changed since Amestris. The material might have been different, but it was the same armor with the same soul inside. Being inside of his brother’s arms, he instantly melted. Edward returned the embrace and held on like it was for dear life.

“I don’t know what is worse!” Edward muttered into the armor plating as he found the words of his fears in the safety of his brother’s arms. “The fact that I almost was sent back into hell or the fact that it was them trying to do it! I thought… I thought-“

“You thought they were your friends,” Alphonse cleared up for him. Edward scoffed at the idea even though deep down he knew it was true. However, pretending that they weren’t made the pill of betrayal easier to swallow.

“They went to my house and knowingly brought that back here. They knew. They knew all along and--,” Edward cut himself off. He closed his eyes as he felt them heat up. He had once thought that he might have been friends with the professors. However, now he didn’t know if they were being nice to him was genuine or just another cruel trick. They knew about the mask all along and didn’t tell him or warn him. They were wolves watching him run around like a lost sheep in the pasture. And he bought their disguises. He let his guard down and look where it had gotten him. Edward didn’t know who to trust.

 “At this point, I don’t think I can make friends anymore,” he mumbled. His brother didn’t say anything. Alphonse was always one to counter his negative thoughts, but he could not do that if it was true. Instead of arguing with him, his brother quickly moved him to the small couch in front of the fire place.

“Sit here. I will get you some tea.” Edward frowned as he watched his brother head off to get the kettle. With no fire in the hearth, he knew his brother would undoubtedly just clap his hands and  alchemize the water to boil. Edward looked down at his own hands. They were still covered in blood, but it had turned brown and crumbly as it had dried. He remembered stumbling over the bucket of blood that was undoubtedly used to write the eerie message on the wall of the corridor. It had seemed so long ago that he had almost forgotten about it. He wanted to be disgusted, but he didn’t feel anything. Looking at it, he clapped his hands and touched his chest. The alchemic energy coursed over his skin and clothes and instantly the dried blood shook off him into a small wad of iron. He was clean and yet he still felt no better than before.

Edward closed his eyes and brought his knees up to his chest, sinking into the soft cushions of the couch. He felt cold as the bitterness of life swirled through him. He had foolishly went against everything he learned in his thousand years in that world. He had opened up and gave the wizards enough room to strike once more. He had told himself never again, but here he was making the same old mistakes over and over.

“It was our fault.” He heard Winry say to him. Her voice was soft but held too much guilt in it. “We were the ones who wanted you to open up. We wanted you to be happy. You are always so lonely. I am sorry.”

“I am used to it. It wasn’t your fault,” Edward whispered. “It was nice while it lasted.”

“But now-“

“Yeah,” he muttered. The small world of happiness he experienced in his naivety was gone and the only thing left was the coldness of reality he had so willingly ignored. He should have listened to his instincts. It would have been better for everyone.

A cup of tea was lowered down in front of him and the steam blasted him in the face. Edward closed his eyes as he felt some part of him warm up in its presence. The smell of vanilla and chamomile soothed him.

“Brother, it will be okay. You still have us, remember?” Alphonse said to him as he handed him the porcelain cup which was near filled to the brim. Edward took it and thanked him. He sank down into his seat and attempted to relax. He knew he never would, especially after that night, but he could imagine. His friends inside the stone and his brother talked to him, for what seemed to be hours to try and make him feel better. He couldn’t think of anything that would. After his most recent sorrow, he felt like he could never be happy again. But betrayal had happened many times before. It hurt very badly and for a very long time but he got better. He knew it couldn’t last forever. He was upset though that it had happened at all.

“You will get through this. You always do,” he heard Winry say to him. He smiled weakly at the thought though the idea still weighed heavily on him.

“Yeah.” He would get through it. He always did. For a thousand years he has been pushing through but for once he just wanted to slow down for a few moments. However, the world didn’t seem to want to allow him that moments rest as there was a knock on his door.

……

Minerva stood outside of the hauntingly tall portrait of a rather round scholar. The man in the portrait seemed jolly with gossip as the commotion in the castle was the biggest news amongst the students, the faculty, and now even the portraits. However, Minerva didn’t appreciate the giddy smile the man was wearing as he whispered to the maiden in the portrait next to him.

“I wonder what she wants. Probably to talk to that muggle boy. Do you think there will be another fight?”

“I don’t know. It’s so hard to tell. The muggle has no paintings in his room. I can’t check.”

“I would respect it if you noisy pieces of art keep to yourselves. Maybe Mr. Elric doesn’t like the intrusion,” Minerva snapped at them. The round man glared down at her and scoffed before hobbling out of the picture while muttering something about her being a hypocrite. She wanted to argue more to the disrespectful painting, but she knew deep down that what the painting said was true. She was a hypocrite. She had pried into the Eastern Sage’s affairs. She had intruded on his house, his space, and his past, places where she did not belong and he was not willing to open to her. She watched Severus take the mask and said nothing. Now she knew better, but now it was too late.

Fighting Dumbledore was the most difficult decision of her life. The man who she had trusted for so long had asked her to hurt someone she knew did nothing wrong, or stand aside a pretend that she didn’t see anything. Minerva understood the circumstances. Someone had snuck into the castle and terrorized the students and the only person who could have possibly done it was the Eastern Sage himself. While the other professors were willing to blame Elric for the greater good of the school, she couldn’t do it and it hurt. But, what hurt more was the look of betrayal in Edward’s face as he took their wands and left the battlefield. For him, the decision was easy but they had all chosen wrong.

Minerva stood outside the chambers of the Easter Sage, building up her courage to make an apology she knew she didn’t deserve. For a Gryffindor, at that moment she did not feel brave at all. She was naked without her wand and every second that ticked by since she initially knocked on the portrait door felt like it was the beat to a death march. However, the farther she marched to her grave the more she believed that Edward would not open the door. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.

She reached out and knocked again just to hear shuffling from the other side. Voices she couldn’t make out got louder and suddenly she saw the door crack open an inch. It wasn’t Edward on the other side, but rather a suit of armor. Minerva had not spent too much time with any of the suits that Elric hung around with, but she could tell that it was his brother, Alphonse. She remembered the talks she and Alphonse would have whenever he was free. They would talk about the weather, his brother, her husband, and life over a cup of tea. Even though he could not drink, she would pour him a cup anyways for sentimentality. Those were the most enjoyable talks that she had in a long time. But by the way Alphonse was standing stiffly in the doorway, she knew those were the last.

“Professor McGonagall.” His voice was guarded with all of the defensiveness his brother held his first day at the school. “Are you here to apologize or get your wand back?”  he asked bitterly. The words stung but Minerva stood firm.

“Apologize, and to make sure your brother was alright, Alphonse. I am horribly sorry about what happened tonight. I tried to stop it but-“

“You could have stopped it by telling us Dumbledore had the mask. You were the one who went to our house, right? It was nice of you to get some things for us but this? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Brother, who is it?” the quiet and distant voice of Edward called out from within the chamber room. The armor turned its head back into the room to address them.

“McGonagall.” There was some padding of feet, one flesh and one metal, before the old alchemist appeared in the doorway. His hair was in disarray and his eyes were red and dark from exhaustion. Though he was cleaned up as there was not an ounce of blood left on his clothes, he looked even worse for wear than she had originally thought. Minerva opened her mouth to begin her apology but she said not a word before she found her own wand getting shoved in her face. She took a step back before she realized that Edward was handing it to her, handle first. He was returning it.

“What… why?” she stumbled, shocked that he was returning something so dangerous to her without second thought. Her hand itched to reach up and grab the handle, but she withheld from the temptation. However, it didn’t seem to be her choice. He pressed the wand into her hand until she had a grasp on it. She questioned him again but instead of giving her an answer he simply shrugged, gave a weak smile, and retreated into his chambers without a word.

“Edward,” Alphonse said, the concern in his voice unmasked and true. There was no answer. Alphonse sighed and opened the door a little farther, stepping to the side to let her in.

The room was warm though there was no fire lit. Barren walls and barely filled shelves would have looked out of place in any other teacher’s rooms but they seemed to be welcoming here. After all, there was enough mystery to the people who resided there that living a complex life of material things would have been overwhelming. It was a shadow of the Eastern Sage’s actual house, a simple bungalow made out of the earth itself. Even having building materials seemed too much for a man who had the power to own everything. Here he had the bare essentials that she had brought to him in the beginning of the semester, but even some of them still looked untouched since they had arrived.

Edward sat on the upholstered couch with his knees tucked to his chest, cradling a cup of tea. Minerva didn’t know if he actually liked the drink but he always seemed to have one when he was feeling anxious. By the looks of how he clutched it, these of course was one of those times. Minerva didn’t know what to do, whether she should sit down or stay by the door. Even though she was invited in, she didn’t feel welcomed. It wasn’t until Alphonse pulled out a cushioned chair for her did she know what to do with herself. She sat. Alphonse gathered up another cup of tea. And they waited in silence with only the clatter of tea cups to arouse them out of the eerie trance. Edward said nothing, and his brother was unwilling to urge the conversation farther. Minerva imagined in was up to her.

“Edward, honestly I didn’t know what the mask did or why Dumbledore wanted it. I went to your house to get you your things to make you more comfortable. I didn’t imagine that Dumbledore would… I didn’t think that he would-“

“You were the last person I expected to come knocking on my door,” Edward muttered, ignoring everything her apology had to say. “I thought it would be Dumbledore to attack me again or Severus.”

“I don’t know what is wrong with them, why they are so against you. Even though whatever happened in the corridor was concerning, and the fact that you are a parselmouth makes it worse, they shouldn’t have attacked you. None of us should have.”

“They don’t know what the stone is or what it does and they were scared and it was messing with their plans.”

“Their plans?” Edward looked up at her when she questioned him but then looked away as if he was ashamed that Albus was using him, or rather the fact that he was so easily used.

“Albus likes to toy with the future. He purposely put a detainment charm on the portion of the stone knowing that I would come to get it. He wanted me to get caught up in your wars and your prophecies. I had thought that I was trapped here mostly for Potter’s sake.”

“And now you don’t?” Minerva asked him and he shook his head.

“You were there. In the office Albus mentioned about sending me home though it didn’t seem he quite understood what that really meant at the time. I saw Trelawney’s paintings and I think Albus believes them, but they were horrid. I don’t want to stay around for a future like that even if it leads me home in the end. I don’t want to be another prophecy being tugged along by invisible strings. I will find my own way home.”

“And your home was… not here,” Minerva said hesitantly and Edward shook his head slowly, not even glancing up at her. She looked over to where Alphonse sat and he seemed to feel the same way. Homesick. She has seen it thousands of times with her students. Many would come from places all over Europe, let alone the entire world. However, it was easily dealt with by sending letters home, keeping memorabilia around, or taking trips back home over the holidays. In Edward’s case, these remedies were inaccessible. She wondered how long he had to live without being home to see his family or even his house. Minerva did not know how to help him, but then again she was not going to let him be alone any longer.

“I couldn’t even begin to understand what you are going through, either of you, any of you,” she said remembering the sheer number of people that the Eastern Sage had mentioned resided within him. Though it was easy enough to talk to Alphonse and Mr. Mustang when they were in the suits of armor, she didn’t know how to address any of them when they were including the stone. “If you would like to talk about it. Maybe-“ she stopped herself as it looked like Edward was about to say no but he paused. He quirked his head as if he was listening to something that Minerva couldn’t hear. He muttered a few strange words to himself in another language but then sighed and sank back into his chair.

“I suppose,” he huffed.

“Brother are you sure?” Alphonse asked him, unsure. “You haven’t told anyone else.”

“I haven’t. But maybe I should have. Though, it’s not a nice story and a very long one.” Alphonse looked like he wanted to protest but instead just relaxed. The both of them looked like a great weight was relieved from their shoulders. Edward took another sip of his tea before setting the cup off to the side. He lifted his hands to help pull the story from him as he took in a huge breath.

“Amestris was-“ he did not get far until there was another knock on the door. He stiffened. Minerva remembered the battle that had occurred earlier that night and instantly became cautious as to who was on the other side of the door. She didn’t think it would be the best time that Dumbledore payed him a visit. Alphonse stood up and cautiously walked over to the door and opened it an inch. He seemed to relax when he noticed who was on the other side.

“Brother, it’s Potter.”

“Potter?!” Minerva exclaimed as she threw herself up from the couch as Alphonse invited her student inside. The child instantly paled upon seeing her.

“Harry is one of the best Gryffindor’s I know,” Edward muttered, unfazed by the student’s arrival as he pointed to a chair for the child to sit in. Harry took it hesitantly, obviously uncomfortable sitting next to his head of house at such a late hour at night. “He heard the fight going on in the headmaster’s tower. We weren’t quiet obviously. And he came down to help though he, like Albus, was very misguided. Considering the circumstances and his actions I think I want to award him 30 points for his bravery and give him a months’ worth of detention for his stupidity.”

“But-But! Potter! You know you could have gotten seriously hurt! Why would you go running into the middle of a fight like that?! Running around the castle after hours, with your clothes in disarray and your shirt untucked!” Minerva started to panic and ramble. She couldn’t believe one of her students was so stupid as to leave the tower in the middle of the night after everything that had happened. Even if it was to help someone there were better ways of doing that than to run into the fray. Her frenzy made Alphonse chuckle a little and Minerva realized that she was making a fool of herself in front of her students and colleagues. She took in a huge breath to calm her nerves and sent a glare over to Harry who shrank beneath it.

“Make it 45 points and two months’ worth detention and I will agree,” she growled and Edward gave a tired smirk.

“Of course.”

 “What you did was extremely stupid,” Alphonse berated the young wizard. “Not just for attacking someone without full knowledge of the situation but also for attacking someone you knew was so far out of your league. A second-year student against the Eastern Sage. It took all five of your professors to pin us. We had once considered you to be a better candidate for Ravenclaw house with how you figured out the First Law of alchemy in Edward’s class but now we can see you are truly a Gryffindor at heart with both its strengths and flaws.”

“I wanted to apologise for-“

“You stopped Voldemort from reaching the stone last year, right?” Edward asked, cutting him off. The kid closed his mouth and nodded. “And you heard what I said it was made of in the corridor, correct?” He shamefully nodded his head again. The Eastern Sage drew in a large breath of air and let it out slowly. “Then you might as well stay for the story.”

“What story, Professor?” the kid asked.

“Mine.” The four of them settled down into their chairs as the Eastern Sage sorted through his long list of memories. The two wizards were both hesitant and eager to hear about the Eastern Sage’s home, but Minerva already knew it was not going to be one with a happy ending. After Edward took a small pause to regain himself, and Alphonse threw on another pot of water to provide Harry with something to drink, he began his story.

“Amestris was a beautiful and deadly country ravished in corruption and a civil war of the worse kind….”

……………

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 14

The First Day

Edward gasped as the air rushed back into his lungs. Screaming filled his ears as he groggily tried to sit up on the war torn battlefield of the Central Command center. His vision was cloudy and he massaged his eyes trying to get them back in order. The world was slow, bright, and too loud. He gritted his teeth as he sat himself up on his knees, trying to focus all of his energy on moving. That explosion took his energy away from him, but he couldn't stop fighting. Father was still there. If he stopped fighting people would die. The screams that filled his ears slowly grew silent. Edward wanted to relish in the relief from the loud horrifying noise but he knew that was the last thing he should be celebrating. One by one, the voices fell, amongst them Edward caught the thwump of heavy objects hitting the dirt.

Edward opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light of the afternoon sun and forced himself to look up. Limp bodies, perfectly preserved, laid scattered on the rocky ground as if everyone in the battle against the homunculi had just agreed to lay down and take a nap. Their faces were torn in agony as if death by suffocation would have been preferable. It didn't take Edward long to know that these people were just empty shells. Their souls were with Father.

Gone, everyone was gone. Edward, in his panic, turned around, trying to find anyone who was still fighting. He needed someone! But as the last scream died out Edward didn't find a single person standing with him. His eyes followed the red arching alchemical light as it ripped the soul from the little body of the Xingese girl Mai. Her body was jerking into seizures as her spirit fought to keep its soul in its correct form. But the golden haired man above her was too strong and it was torn from her to reside in the stone already in his chest.

The world was silent as everyone laid down to rest but Edward still heard the tormented voices around him screaming for help. It took him a while to realise, that the last voice was his own. He screamed out for them, all of them, begging for it to be a trick. He called for Mai, the Colonel, Hawkeye, teacher. He called for his brother even louder when he saw the empty suit of armor motionless on the ground. Its metal chest was ripped open like Father had to claw his way in to retrieve his soul. The Homunculi wanted Amestris and he was one soul away from getting it.

Bare footsteps walked towards him as Edward begged his friends to come back. He didn't know what to do. He had the vast power of alchemy at his fingertips but without them he didn't know what to do. Edward looked up to see the golden eyes of his father, no not Hoheheim, Father the homunculus clone coming for him. He looked hungry, overly eager to finish his plans once and for all. That all ended with him.

The arch of red alchemical lightning extended from the tips of Father's outstretched fingers and hit Edward square in the chest. He gasped as it felt like his throat was closing up to keep his lungs inside of himself. His soul was slowly slipping from his body, being tugged and pulled like a rope. Edward tried to pull it back with his own will power but Father's being was too strong to fight by one's self. He was falling.

Tears streamed to Edward's eyes as he knew the end was near. He couldn't die. He couldn't be alone. He just needed to do something. Do something! He screamed at his body to move but his mind was stalled to a blank. He didn't know what to do. Voices seemed to call to him. He heard them scream at him to reverse it. Reverse it! Without thinking, without even considering the right formula, he willed himself to do just that; reverse father's pull and push his soul back into his own body. He clapped his hands with his last breath and slammed them to Father's hovering chest. Reverse it! Bring his soul back. A bright burst of red light erupted out of him and Edward heard the Homunculus scream in agony. Edward's own soul flew back into his chest and he drew in a large breath of life that his body was starved. It worked. It worked! But unfortunately, it worked too well as the world around him faded to white and one by one the rest of the souls plunged into his body.

………….

Edward woke up screaming in pain. It was the only thing he could do as the rest of his body convulged in its efforts to stay alive and put together. It felt like he was being torn at the seams and sewn back together as the souls inside him screamed for a way out. Their spirits pulled at them, demanding their return, but their bodies were nowhere to be found. Edward's was their only hope. He screamed as he felt the torment inside him try to take control. He heard the pleading cries of all of the people begging to be let out, not admitting that this was the end.

"I need to see my daughter again!"

"Where are we?"

"Help! I need to get help! Someone help me!"

"My body! Where is it?"

"Here's a body! Here is one!"

Edward shrieked as the voices pounded the inside of his skull. He brought his hands up to his head and clenched it tightly as if he could just hold his skull together before it broke open into pieces. Tears streamed down his face and he rolled back and forth on the soft ground. He didn't know where he was. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't feel anything but the pain of being torn apart, and his ears were so full of the panicked screaming of his friends, neighbors, and countrymen that he didn't know what was around him. Out of his agony, Edward heard a faint whisper like it came from a butterfly. His head pounded in his skull and he gripped his temples so tight he wanted to break his own skull to relieve the pressure. The odd voice kept whispering odd unheard words above the screaming torment of the voices in his head. Edward suddenly felt like he was floating like he was lifted into the air as a feather. The voice came closer and Edward found himself trying to listen to it, grabbing on anything to distract himself from the horrible torment he was in.

"Shhh. Quiet. Quiet now. Everything will be alright. I will take you home," he heard the voice whisper to him. It sounded like an angel as Edward knew he must have been dying. The pain, blinding him and Edward thought that if he really was dying, he wished it would go faster. He wished anything for the pain to stop. He didn't want it anymore. But as the throbbing and piercing in his entire body continued he knew that the only thing he could do was lay there and cry until he passed out from physical exhaustion. It felt like hours until the peace of unconsciousness had gifted him mercy. Maybe then he could wake up in some place one might call a heaven should it have existed.

…….

"When do you think he will wake up?"

"I don't know. Brother had to have made it. He had to."

"There is a chance someone else replaced him," Edward heard the concerned voice of the Colonel whisper almost in his ear. It sounded reserved yet anything but calm. He sounded upset like he was standing right next to him.

"Brother wouldn't just give up. He couldn't. He still has to be here!" the desperate voice of his brother cried out. Edward flinched at the volume as it sounded like his brother was screaming into his ear. The noise pierced his groggy head and sent a headache stabbing through his skull. Edward groaned and slowly lifted his arm to his temple to grind out the pain.

"Al, can you quiet down? I'm here," he grumbled as he opened one of his eyes and sat up. His body was stiff and sore, creaking and groaning with each movement but he didn't feel like he could lay down for much longer, no matter how exhausted he was. There was a gasp, recognizably from his younger brother, as he sat up and Edward could easily hear the concern in his voice.

"Brother! You're awake! You're alright!" Alphonse exclaimed with such a large amount of relief that he seemed to forget about Edward's headache. It sounded like he was shrieking right into his eardrum. Edward yelped at the sudden noise and clutched his head as the pain ricochet off his skull like a pinball.

"God damn it Al, please quiet down I'm all-" Edward started to scold his brother but stopped as he looked around the room. It appeared that he was sitting on a mattress stuffed with hay, which rested on a mud floor. The small hut was dark but efficiently lit with candles and the occasional oil lamp. Edward would call it humble but that might be giving it too much credit. Chickens clucked and scattered around as if the house was also their coop and a small oven made of clay laid cooking in the corner with what appeared to be a pot of laundry left to boil. Edward looked around, mouth open, and took in the place. It only took him a second to realise that he didn't know where he was. It took him a second more to realise that Alphonse was nowhere to be seen.

"Al?" he asked as he sat up a little straighter on his makeshift bed.

"Brother, I'm here." Edward spun his head and looked over to where he thought he heard him right next to him but there was nothing there. Only an empty doorway and a lone chicken stood pecking at the loose hay in the splitting mattress cover. Edward forced himself to his feet and wobbled a little bit as his stiff legs gained their balance. He stumbled forward and leaned against the door frame to see himself looking into another bare bedroom of the mud and stick built house. His brother was nowhere to be seen, and it was pretty hard to miss a looming suit of armor.

"Al, this isn't funny," Edward growled at him, aggravation overshadowing the pit of fear that was growing in his stomach. He didn't like the feeling at all and wanted it to stop. If only Alphonse would show himself maybe he could figure out what was going on. But the answer, he was soon to find out, wasn't anything he wanted to hear. There was a hesitant pause. Edward could feel it in the air as Alphonse pondered how to explain to him the unknown. No matter how he said it, it would not land easy. With a sigh, Alphonse's voice answered.

"Edward, I am here…. I am… in you-"

"In me?" Edward asked as if he needed clarification but he felt his heart slow and freeze over, the answer already being known to him since he woke up. He just didn't want to admit it was the reality.

"I am in you… in the stone." Edward didn't say anything. He didn't think he could. He heard the low roar of voice he had originally thought were coming from outside the hut. It was conversation like in a public area but he now realised it was coming from within him. He felt himself stagger as he tried to keep himself standing but the shock took him down to his knees. They were all in him. Every single person. Edward heard the stiff voice of the Colonel addressing him. He heard Hawkeye try and talk some sense into him. But Winry, her voice was trying to sound reassuring, as if he would just wake up the next day and be fine, but there was fear underneath it. She was scared.

It was Edward's natural instinct to try and pretend everything wasn't real. He wanted to think that this was an elaborate joke but hearing Winry and how frightened she was, Edward knew even with his best intentions he wouldn't be able to fool himself. He opened his mouth to laugh at the idea that the entire population of Amestris had turned into a philosopher's stone that now resided in his own body, but all that came out was a blood piercing scream. He wailed as the waves of greif washed over him over and over again unending. His chest wracked with sobs as hot salty tears streamed down his dirty face. His arms wrapped themselves around his waist trying to find comfort where there was none. No one was left.

"NO!" he yelled finally finding that language had returned to him. "No, no, no, no!" he repeated finding that was the only thing he could say to release whatever demon was inside of him. "Al! Mustang! Winry!" Edward begged them, praying with all of his might that they answer him and tell him what he was thinking was false. "Please, oh god, please." However, none of them replied as they already knew that they didn't have the answers he was searching for. Edward cried out quickly pushing himself off of the dirt floor to find the answer he deeply wanted. He had to find it. He had to. It had to be around there somewhere. There had to be an explanation that wasn't the hell they were giving him. He spun around but soon found himself entangled in two large burly arms. Edward kicked and tried to fight out of them with all of his might but the human restraints only tightened around him, keeping his arms pinned closely to his chest. He screamed and begged for the man to let him go. Tears streamed down his face as he pleaded with him over and over again until his cries quieted down with the exhaustion that was creeping over him. Calm whispers similar to the angels he heard during his night of hell went into his ear slowly soothing his mind with its lulling tones.

"Shhhh. Calm down. Quiet down. Relax. Relax," the man hummed to him. Edward choked on a sob and his breath hitched but he soon found his muscles succumbing to the man's voice.

"Th-they're gone. Th-hey're gone. They're all gone. Gone. Gone," Edward sobbed, his own voice barely even audible to himself as he found himself lulled into a spell. He was tired, he hurt, he wanted to go home but all of those things seemed so far away then. Edward found himself being picked up by the stranger. He originally would have kicked out of his arms but he found that he had lost all energy to care anymore. His life had vanished within a second. His world was gone as he knew it. Beneath the despair that consumed his body, he could only feel a numbness grow within him. Edward found himself laid down on the lumpy hay mattress once more and a calloused hand pressed the side of his head reassuringly, its strength giving Edward some peace of mind as he laid there looking into the green eyes of a dark haired man.

"Everything will be fine. Just sleep now. Just sleep," the man whispered through his short wirery beard that covered his dirty face. Edward heard a note and then another as a softly hummed tune escaped the man's chest. Edward's eyes fluttered and he didn't even try to keep them open. Exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a deep sleep.

……….

Edward heard hushed voices bicker back and forth with each other as his mind was slowly pulled from the darkness. There sounded like two of them, voices sharp and concerned. There was clattering of dishes as the unknown strangers mulled about the main room of the small hut, their feet padding on the soft dirt floor.

"The duke's men are going to come once word gets out. He destroyed half of the crop and the town is getting concerned about his screaming. Once they find out we have a crazy man sleeping on the floor of our hut, they are going to start the witch hunts here! Remember what happened in Riverdale? We can't repeat that!"

"Elija, I know. It was hard enough trying to cover up Merlin's spouting magic as he was turning of age, but we need to help him. Don't you see that this man's a witch too? We can't just throw him on the stake ourselves."

"He has cursed limbs! Odd clothes! He's going to get caught no matter what we do. If he gets caught, we either will be taken as harborers or tried as witches ourselves. You will be killing our son!"

"Merlin was the one who found him. So I would imagine it is his responsibility. Now, we must get going. If the lords don't find us on the fields, I am sure the townsmen will easily try and label us as slackers. You know how Mrs. Dubane was always jealous of our house."

"That bitch couldn't keep her thieving fingers to herself even if she knew she was stealing from a crocodile. Next time she touches my chickens I am going to turn her ears into kumquats lemme tell you."

There was shuffling, a closing of a door, then silence. Edward opened his eyes tiredly to an empty room now that his mind had reached consciousness. He felt a headache storm like a thundercloud in the depths of his mind but the gentle morning sunrise that filtered through the thatch of the roof put it at bay. It was a warm type of light and Edward almost felt entranced by how it danced across the dirty floor of the hut. He stared at it for a long time, the numbing feeling that had bloomed in his chest drying and becoming tar the more he relaxed and stared at it. At one point he found himself so enlightened by the sunshine that he reached a hand out to touch it, but the glittering gold just slipped through his fingers, his automail hand casting a dark shadow on the ground. Edward was disappointed but not surprised.

"Brother?" he heard the familiar voice ring in his ear, "Are you going to be okay?" Edward closed his eyes as his little brother's voice felt like a knife to his chest. He shook his head, opening his mouth to answer his brother but the only thing that came out was a silent sob of air. He covered his mouth with his hands hoping to stop himself from breaking down once more but he only managed to muffle the sound as the tears were already flowing. As much as he wanted to be strong, he knew that nothing would be the same ever again.

There was a shuffling from across the room at the sound of his crying and he heard footsteps break through from the back room of the hut. A hand rested on his shoulder and though Edward wanted to shake it off, he found himself curling into the embrace. Calming words rushed into his ear once more and Edward found himself opening his water filled eyes to see a distorted picture of soft green eyes staring back at him. He batted his eyelids once to shed the water from them and the picture solidified and became clearer. A young man sitting in front of him. The kid appeared to be about his age, maybe younger. Long and lanky, he looked like a tree, his earthy brown hair the bark of a sapling, his piercing green eyes the leaves. His small rough calloused hands, a mimick of the ones that held him so securely during his breakdown, were holding onto his, rubbing soothing circles into the backs of them. They were not as strong, but were gentle, and still seemed to provide Edward a sense of security, a calming hope.

"H-hey, calm down, everything will be alright," the kid's soft voice told him. Edward wanted to believe him, but he shook his head knowing that it would be anything but.

"Th-they're gone. All of them," Edward mumbled, feeling another sob edging its way up to his throat.

"Who?" the kid asked, unsure of what he was referring to.

"Edward, we aren't gone. We are right here with you," Lieutenant Hawkeye's smooth motherly voice said to him.

"Brother, this isn't an end. It's just a new beginning," Alphonse told him reassuringly.

"But you are-"

"Edward, just calm down. Talk to the kid. Find out where we are. Assess our situation. We aren't going to be able to change any of this if you just sit here and pity yourself," Mustang said harshly. Edward's eyes widened as he heard the man scold him. Shame flooded him as the words of his commanding officer flooded into him. They pierced his being like a needle, probing the feeling that wanted to stay there and leech off him. Edward felt his numbness crack a little.

"We have no idea what you are going through right now. We can only imagine. This is all new to us and we are all scared. But we can't do anything to fix this without you. You are the only person who still can do something for us. So we need you to stop longing about and start to accept the fact that you have the stone now. You have us." Edward sat up on the mattress, pulling his hands out of the grasp of the odd child in front of him. He wrapped them tightly around his own waist, pulling himself close. He rested his head on his knees and let out a breath as he tried to force his mind to wander past the shock of the stone being in him. Yes, his friends, family, everyone in Amestris was inside him. But what now? What could he do now?

"Where am I?" Edward found himself breathing out as he tried to follow his commanding officer's orders. It was all he had at that moment. The only thing that met him was silence. Edward sniffled a little bit and drew in a deep breath as he looked up to where the kid was kneeling in front of him. His green eyes were looking him over with a sense of curiosity and fear. It was obvious he was unsure of him but he was trying his best to help which was all Edward needed.

"Wh-where am I?" Edward asked once more, his voice thick and wavering but a little louder this time. The kid shook his head, clearing his wandering thoughts and plastered a grin on his face.

"I picked you up screaming in the corn field. I thought you were hurt or something. Your apparation must have gone wrong or something. My father has seen it happen loads of times to beginners. When he first tried he ended up in the heat of Afrique. Just learning are you?" the kid blabbered on about nonsense. Edward closed his eyes in slight annoyance an exhaustion took over him. Apparations? Afrique? Edward didn't know what the kid was talking about. He lifted his hands to his temples and massaged the headache roaring in the back of his mind. Eventually when the kid had gotten to talk about his school, did Edward build up enough energy to stop him.

"Please," Edward interrupted the one sided discussion. He didn't know what he was talking about but he desperately needed to ground himself. To do that he needed to know where he was. "Please tell me where I am-"

"I am Merlin Ambrosius. You are in Dutchy of Hervor in the village of Egg."

"Where?" Edward croaked. The kid looked taken back for a second as if everyone should have known where that was.

"Egg. In Hervor…. England?" he clarified. It was obvious he was trying to find some sign of recognition in his face but Edward had none to give. He only sat there with his mouth open. There was no such place as England. He wanted to cry out once more as he realised exactly how far he was from home but he forced himself to choke it down. He brought a hand up and massaged his face, finding it sweaty and clammy. His heart was fluttering in his chest and he felt terribly sick.

"Y-year?" he whispered. The kid infront of him paled as he asked the question seeming to catch onto how bad the situation actually was. Merlin stood up from where he was kneeling and took a hesitant step back. His face was twisted into one of confusion.

"How badly could your apparation have gone that you have to ask the year? I never heard of this before!" Merlin exclaimed, his hand going up to his forehead as if he was checking himself for a fever. "You must have hit your head or something. Has to be-"

"Please. I am begging you. Tell me the year," Edward pleaded with all of his might. The kid looked hesitant but told him anyways.

"It is the year of our Lord, 992 A.D.," he said trying to act calm but there was no security behind it. The words hit Edward like a brick wall, knocking all of the air out of him. He was a lot farther from home than he thought, space and time wise. He ran a shaky hand through his hair trying to calm himself but as he grabbed a handful of locks he felt his whole body tremor in shock. He quickly doubled over and heaved, vomiting on the dirt made floor of the hut. The kid jumped away to avoid being hit by the mess. Edward was left shaking on the ground, his body hurt, his head spun and he was quickly sliding into emotional shock.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Edward breathed finding that the air was avoiding his lungs.

"Edward, everything is going to be fine-"

"Fine? Fine! You c-call this fine?!" Edward exclaimed, cutting his brother off from his line of soothing thought. "I am almost 1000 years where I am supposed to be and not even in the right place! How on earth is this going to be fine?!"

"Brother, we are with you. That's all that matters doesn't it? That is all we needed before." And that was all they needed before. A type of resolve fell over Edward in his panic. Though his body still quaked from the shock and his mind spun, he knew Alphonse was right. That was all they needed, each other. They already had been through so much. They defied what most people would call impossible. They would just have to do it again, on a larger scale. Getting Alphonse's body back seemed like an uphill battle, but now finding their way back home was scaling a slicked ridgeless wall. It just meant that he would have to try harder.

Edward took in a huge breath and let it out slowly. Repeated that a few times more until his shaking hands relaxed. Merlin stared at him and watched carefully, seeming to calm down now that he wasn't standing on a sharp edge of sanity. Edward opened his eyes after a few moments and looked at them with an ounce of shame in his eyes.

"I-I am sorry about that. Everything was just so shocking I over reacted-"

"I wouldn't say that-" Roy commented but Edward brushed him off.

"I am E-" Edward started but he heard a voice cut him off. It took him a moment to realise that it was Hohenheim. He was there too?

"Don't use your real name. If we are in the 10th century, Edward was a name only really given to the rich or wealthy. You can't let yourself stick out that much especially in a village like this. It's popularity amongst the commoners only started in the 11th century when it started becoming more common. You want to blend in. Use my name-"

"Your name? I feel like it is too late to blend in," Edward whispered, hoping that the kid wouldn't overhear him talking to himself.

"It's never too late. My name is Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim."

"Holy shit old man. What the fuck name is that-"

"Had a hard time remembering it myself."

"No crap. Isn't there something easier to remember?" Edward asked. There was a slight pause as the man thought it over and soon he answered. 

"Dwarf in a flask as well as my Master shortened it to Paracelsus. I used a mix of all of my names through generations to get by. I had you and your brother as Van Hohenheim. I always thought that it sounded common enough though a little classy. If you think of it, it's a little hard to pick a name for yourself-"

"Paracelsus," Edward told the kid, interrupting his father's babble and hopefully shutting him up. He seemed oddly satisfied with the name and it stuck. Merlin leaned back with an accepting nod and offered him a hand to stand with. Edward reached out with his automail but suddenly the offer wasn't there anymore. Looking up, he saw that the kid had withdrawn like he was diseased. His eyes were locked on his hand with a complex of fear and curiousity floating through him. Edward was going to wonder why but then remembered his hand. It was automail, completely metal. He highly doubted that in the year 992 that anyone, in their dimension or not, had competent machinery let alone prosthetics and automail. Feeling the licks of shame and fear fill him, Edward quickly tried to cover up his arm. He tried to hide it in the folds of his shirt but the battle with Father destroyed nearly all of his clothes. Having nothing else left, Edward crossed his arms tight against his chest in hopes that maybe, if he acted like it was part of him, they might just forget about it.  Edward didn't feel like he really had the energy to get up, but he took it and soon found himself wobbling on both legs. Sensing that it was a sensitive topic, Merlin reluctantly dropped the topic and led him over to the only table in the entire house so that he could sit. Edward still caught his eyes glancing to his metal arm now and then. He pulled a chair out for him and Edward found himself collapsing down in it within the second.

"You are an odd wizard, Paracelsus, and I know you are scared. Apparating for the first time is unsettling, especially if it goes wrong. My first time doing it I almost inverted my kidneys-"

"W-wizards?" Edward gasped. Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"Yes? You are one aren't you?" he asked hesitantly. It looked like the kid was having second thoughts about him and that made Edward uneasy.

"I am not a wizard! Magic doesn't exist!"

"Of course, you are a wizard. You popped out of nowhere in the middle of the cornfield. How do you not know magic exists? Even the muggles know that magic exists! It is just that they think it is evil that they are trying to kill us for," Merlin argued with a huff. He was looking at him more and more like he was insane by the moment but Edward was thinking the same about him.

"Magic does not exist. I am not a wizard or whatever mumbo jumbo you talk about. I am an alchemist. What you saw me do… that was a mistake-"

"An alchemist? Never heard of that type of magic before-"

"It isn't magic!" Edward retorted angrily, crossing his arms with a huff. What his obsession was with magic, he didn't understand but alchemy was anything but that. "Alchemy is a science of changing one thing into another-"

"You mean transfigurations-"

"No! It's alchemy! It's…. Ah! Come over here," Edward growled, giving up on the argument that was obviously going nowhere. He strode over to the fire and used his automail hand to scoop up a handful of ash and brought it over to the table. He used the dust to draw out a circle on the rough surface. He slapped his hands to it and alchemic energy filled the detailed ring and soon a portion of the table was quickly transformed into a small little figurine of a bird.

“See? It’s a science. I use the compounds of the table to change it into something of similar mass and material,” Edward started to explain but he looked up to see Merlin’s mouth hanging open in awe. His hand cautiously reached out and picked up the small bird ornament and looked at it.

“You… you performed wandless magic-“

“It isn’t magic!” he screetched but it fell upon deaf ears.

“What school do you go to? Where did you learn? I just started to go to Hogwarts. It is the newest school for magical academia but they don’t teach you this! I don’t even think Professor Ravenclaw can do something like that-“

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Edward stated, wishing that the kid would just make sense. “Wands and magic do not exist! This is alchemy! Don’t you have this?”

“Don’t you have magic?” Merlin asked as if he hadn’t listened to a word he had said. Edward opened his mouth to argue but suddenly there was two loud shots of gun fire and suddenly two people were standing in the hut. Edward let out a small shriek in surprise though Merlin was unfazed. They looked filthy and covered in sweat, a terror riding through their eyes. An older man was the spitting image of Merlin sitting in front of him with dark shaggy hair and sharp green eyes. The woman, similar with her long brown hair tied hastily back into a bun with straw and other materials sticking out of it.

“Merlin, grab your wand we have to go,” the man said as he quickly buzzed around the room grabbing as many valuable things as he could find.

“This is all your fault!” the woman exclaimed as she waved an accusing finger at Edward. “You are a stupid foolish wizard! I am not risking my family over someone who just came out of nowhere and started spewing magic out his ass like it would have no consequences!”

“Elija calm down. I am sure it was an accident with his apparation-“ the man tried to calm his wife down but it did little to help.

“Accident or not, Marcus, I am not getting burned because of him! Merlin! Hurry, they are coming!” she shouted into the other room where their child was quickly recovering his own things. She took a stick out of her pocket as she dumped her laundry onto the muddy ground and bundled it up into her arms.

“What the hell are you talking about? Magic doesn’t exist! Apparation? Wands? I don’t understand!” Edward exclaimed for what he felt was the tenth time that day. He heard the rise of angry voices in the distance. He didn’t know what was happening. Why were they leaving so quickly? What had happened?

“You son of a bitch! You got my family killed that’s what!” the woman screetched at him when suddenly the straw roof caught ablaze and the dried hay from the summer months was quickly consumed in flames. Edward heard rioting voices from outside pick up and he realized that they were under attack. Villagers outside held torches and weapons as if they were ready to go to war. Instead, they were fighting an innocent farmer and his family. Smoke quickly filled the house as the entire hut went up in flame. Marcus quickly grabbed Elija by the shoulders and hurried her out of the house just as the roof was going to fall. Merlin stumbled out of the back room of the house coughing and failing to wave the smoke away from his face.  Edward blindly grabbed Merlin and tugged him out into the daylight. He coughed and sputtered as the smoke cleared from his lungs and eyes. Something hit him hard across the face and he fell quickly to the ground.

“Stay down,” he heard the knight above him say. “This doesn’t concern you.” Edward looked around the horrifying crowd of peasants, soldiers, and of the likes. They chanted and cheered as if this man hunt was a game, a small victory in an invisible war. They raised their makeshift weapons in the air and howled at the Ambrosius’.

“Witches! They are witches!” he heard angry voices exclaim.

“That boy Merlin cursed our crops! We are all going to starve because of him!”

“Everyone in that house was born from the devil!

“Burn them and send them back to where they belong!”

The Ambrosius’ cornered by a row of armored knights. The entire crowd was chanting for their deaths even as the small family stood defiantly where they were kept, except for Merlin who was being pulled away by a rough handed knight. He tugged away from them, the fear in his eyes longing for the safety of his family once more. Marcus and Elija reached out for him but the guards kept them back against the fire of their family’s long gone home. Merlin was quickly dragged a few feet away from where Edward was and forced to the ground by the knight. A priest marched out of the crowd holding a bible in his hands and stood over the frightened boy.

“Merlin, you have destroyed out crops by the hands of the devil, and God has looked down on you as the scum of the earth and labeled you a witch. You will be executed swiftly for your crimes against man, nature, and the church by way of beheading. Do you repent for your misdoings?” Merlin was too scared to move or even answer. Edward could see how terrified he was. He was going to die, and it was because of Edward and his stupid stone. He was the one who destroyed the crop and got caught with what the peasants must have thought was magic. He had unknowingly brought this upon their family. He had exposed them for whatever this genocide was for. As Merlin failed to provide an answer or a defense, the priest closed his book and took a step back nodding to the guards beside him. One of them unsheathed the sword that hung at the side of his belt. The cool slick metal shining in the sun, sharp and deadly.

“Stop!” Edward yelled at them but it did little to slow the knight down. “Stop! It wasn’t them it was me! I hurt the crops!”

“Be quiet!” the guard above him scolded. “You will get your turn, witch.” Edward panicked as he saw the knight line up his swing to behead the young boy without trial, without a defense. The knight raised the sword but it had never reached its target. Edward felt the blade plunge itself into his stomach as he stood firmly between Merlin and the executioner. A warm metalic taste rose through his throat and before he knew it he was sent to his knees, the sword being taken with him. He didn’t even realize he had run forward. He didn’t even realized he had pushed Merlin out of the way until he was already paying for it.

“Brother! Brother you idiot!” he heard the terrified voice of his brother shout at him. He obviously did not like the sight of his brother with a sword in his gut. Merlin scrambled backwards and there were three loud bangs beside him and the crowd instantly roared in anger. The Ambrosius’ were gone. The executioner above him grew angry for his lost prey and yanked his sword out of Edward, not even caring who it was lodged in. It tore a scream from his throat as it was drawn out but the pain didn’t last long. Suddenly angry red alchemic lights swirled around him and the crowd howled in fear. The light blinded Edward’s vision and the terrified screams of the crowd and people inside the stone consumed his mind. He heard the people inside the stone panic which struck a new fear in him. The light grew in intensity and then suddenly vanished like nothing happened. When it was done, the pain was no more.

“Immortal! He’s the devil himself!” the priest exclaimed as Edward looked down to where he was clutching the wound in his stomach to find it was simply not there anymore. It was healed. His jaw dropped open in shock. The stone. He had forgotten about the stone. He had no time to regain his bearings as suddenly his face was shoved into the dirt. A rough hand held his face and his neck down and he was sure his neck was going to snap. Someone fumbled for his hands but were clumsy with it. Edward pulled himself out of the faze he was set in and clapped his hands a wall erupted from the ground and shoved the soldiers away from him. The roar of the crowd shook the earth.

“Fullmetal, you need to get out of here. This crowd is insane,” the Colonel ordered him. Edward staggered to his feet as the other guards started to draw their arms to ready for a fight. He felt drunk with the confusion and fear that was swarming inside him. He didn’t know what was going on and he didn’t know what he should do. He swayed a bit as he saw a knight charge at him with a polearm. Edward clapped his hands again and a mound of dirt rose up in front of him to knock the guard back. The knight fell and Edward scaled the wall to get out of reach of the other soldiers and villagers. He wavered as he ran along the edge but stayed true. The wall was out of reach of the pitchforks and swords but not of the knights chasing him. Stuck now on the ledge above a sea of angry people, guards started to clumsily follow him onto the rise of dirt. Edward looked around him for a place to jump but the sea of villagers was huge and there wasn’t enough material left in his wall to make a safe bridge over them. He either had to choose to fight the crowd or fight the guard.

“Get him!” he heard the knight say behind him and he spun around not realizing that they had managed to fully scale the wall with their heavy armor on. A sword was pointed threateningly at him. Fear swirled through the stone as the guards advanced. Though it wasn’t his own, he still felt the overwhelming emotions of the stone consume him. He started to shake as he drew his blade from this automail. Lieutenant Hawkeye began to try and calm everyone in the stone down which eased the feeling but Edward’s balance was still off set as the knight infront of him lunged.

Edward ducked beneath the sword and quickly jabbed the knight’s side with his palm. There was a loud crash as the man tipped over and fell to the earth several feet below in his large tin can armor. Behind were ten more. Edward stepped back to gain some more distance between him but he teetered on the edge of the wall. He would have fallen over into the crowd if he didn’t regain his balance. He braced himself for the guards to charge him but it never came. The soldiers hung back and it wasn’t until there was a crossbow bolt sticking through Edward’s chest that he realized why.

“Brother!” he heard Alphonse panic again as he saw his elder sibling die for what was the second time that morning. The distress of his brother consumed his ears as Edward collapsed and fell off of the wall into the angry crowd of people. Guards pushed through the peasants as Edward choked on the blood that was rising through his throat. Red lights sprung around the new wound in vain as it struggled to heal him where the arrow was still stuck. Edward dazedly watched the guards pull his arms back and restrain him in heavy wooden stocks, having learned a valuable lesson on what alchemy could do. With one quick yank the withdrew the bolt from his chest and Edward gasped as the wound quickly closed up. He coughed and sputtered as he regained his ability to breath again. It wasn’t long until he had his face slammed into the muddy ground and a heavy boot laid upon his back. He jerked and struggled to get free but the guards only began to restrain him more.

“Magic doesn’t exist” Edward croaked, his mouth full of mud and grim. A knight smacked him across the back of his head with the butt of his sword. He saw so many stars he thought he went blind. He heard his younger brother screaming at him to get up and fight, to not let them take him. Alphonse was terrified and his cries consumed Edward’s mind with fear and grief.

“You might have let your fellow demon worshipers leave but no one is going to come to save you. We are going to burn you at the stake before the night’s through to send you back to the devil which you came from,” the man jeered. “Get him on the horse!”

“Someone send word to the Duke. I am sure he would want to witness this one getting its due.”

“Brother please, fight. Escape. I can’t see you die again!” Alphonse cried as Edward was roughly thrown over the back of a horse like luggage. They were going to take him into the castle and he doubted that being trapped in there would give him better odds. However, Edward, no matter how much he struggled could not escape when he was so completely bound under ropes and chains. He could not promise his brother he wouldn’t die again.

Within the castle walls he died twenty more times before the day was through.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 15

The King

Shing! Shing! Shing!

“I couldn’t believe it was true when I heard that there was an immortal witch in Egg of all places,” the elegantly dressed man chuckled as he took his time sharpening the thin blade of his knife on a wet stone.

Shing! Shing!

“I definitely couldn’t believe it when I saw you, a runty little child.”

Shing! He inspected the blade for a moment before turning an eye towards Edward and grinning too widely.

“But, here you are. A gift from God disguised as the devil himself. How does no mortal wound hurt you? Even scar you? That little punk King Arthur would be very upset if he ever found out I had you. Even more so if I ever found out what made you. That kind of power would give a man an empire, the world even.”

“ahhhghher,” Edward attempted to argue, but the mask choked his words just like it choked his friends comforting words from his mind. He was alone with a man too acquainted with the suffering of others. The Duke of Hervor walked over to where he was heavily bound in chains and knelt down next to him. Edward couldn’t move even if he wanted to. The flat end of the blade bounced on his metal shoulder making soft chinking noises as it hit. The man wielded it like a writer with a pen lost in thought. Every time it hit Edward forced himself not to flinch as he imagined the next tap to be into his skin. He knew how it felt. The villagers and guards did not give him any need to imagine what death might feel like as they attempted to execute him for his crimes. However, as he heard the blade tap on his burnt and useless automail arm, he knew that the dungeons would be different. The Duke didn’t want to kill him like the villagers did. He wanted to find what made him tick. Edward only knew what death felt like. He didn’t know what living did.

“With the power to do anything, why didn’t you have the power to escape? That mask can’t be the only thing keeping you here,” the man pondered aloud. The dagger stopped bouncing and the Duke looked down at him. Cold black eyes studied him, taking in every feature of his face that was not hidden by the mask’s heavy expression. The blade stopped bouncing and it was only a couple seconds before it had found its way between two of Edward’s ribs. The duke’s expression didn’t change as Edward gasped for air, a horrible moan escaping the mask.

“Interesting,” he hummed as he grabbed Edward’s head and slammed it to the dungeon floor. Edward struggled to fight him but soon he heard the click of the contraption being unlocked. The instant the mask was off the red lights around the wound began to light up and heal. Edward gulped as his lungs repaired themselves.

“Brother!” Alphonse’s voice brought tears to his eyes more so than the pain in his side. However, the Duke mistook it and quickly jerked the dagger out of his side to curiously watch the stone heal the wound completely.

“Gah!” Edward exclaimed at the force of it which only made his brother panic more. He would have cursed the man out for stabbing him. He would have fought the man with all of his might but hearing his brother disarmed him. At that moment he didn’t want to do anything but talk to him. Unfortunately, Alphonse was too hysterical to converse and it was Hohenheim that took over.

“Use the stone, Edward,” Hohenheim ordered him stiffly. “Use the stone and free yourself.” Tears streamed down Edwards face and he shook his head.

“I-I can’t. I can’t.”

“Do it now!”

“I can’t.”

“Edward! Don’t keep dying like this! Use the stone before he puts the mask back on! You can’t move your hands, you can barely move at all. The stone is your only way to get out of here!” his father barked at him. “We can’t see you die anymore!” A chorus of voices rang up through the stone in agreement. Mustang, Hawkeye, even Mrs. Hughes. He heard them all argue with him to save himself. A sob left Edward’s mouth as he was overwhelmed by joy and shame at the sound of his family’s voices.

“I can’t,” he wheezed.

“Brother, you fucking idiot! Use it!” Alphonse cried. The fear in his voice only managed to make him feel worse. Alphonse and everyone else in the stone would continue to watch him get hurt until he figured out a way to get out of there. He didn’t know if he was morally right to not use the stone anymore or if he was simply selfish. He couldn’t do it and it pained him. If he used the stone he would be free. He would stop the pain and he would stop his friends suffering of having to watch him go through it. But using the stone had worse consequences. Healing mortal wounds took far less energy than creating something out of nothing. If he died, the stone’s repair would only take a few years at a time from the soul’s reserves. If he used it and the toll was great enough, multiples of them could die. And that person could be anyone, even his little brother.

“I’m sorry,” Edward whispered.

“Yes, very interesting,” the Duke hummed before Edward heard the clank of the metal mask getting picked up off the stone floor. Edward struggled and fought. Chains that tied him down clanked with the ferocity of his struggles but the mask was too easily placed back on him and locked in place. The weight of it dragged his head back to the stone floor with a loud thud. He tried to listen as hard as he could for his brother’s voice but it was gone. The world was silent.

“It seems that at the very least you can’t heal yourself if the mask is on which makes this a lot easier for me,” the Duke hummed, seeming oblivious to the internal struggle that Edward was fighting. The man stood up and walked back to the bench that he had drawn his dagger from, wiping the blood off onto a white cloth. He set the dagger down gently onto the table as if it was made of glass. He surveyed his options before reaching over and picking up what appeared to be a long ten inch needle. Upon closer inspection of it driving into Edward’s neck did he realize it was a nail.

“If you won’t tell me the secrets to immortality, I will simply find them out for myself,” the man grinned. “There are only so many ways to pick someone apart.”

……..

Edward was hurt. He was cold and he was pained. However, the only thing he could feel was tired. It has been what he could only guess was two years since he was locked away in the Duke’s dungeon. Two gruesome years before he finally saw the sun again. As he was dragged out of the dungeons, the dreary cloud covered sun hit his face and the only thing Edward could do was relish in it. The winter had bit into his body and forever sent shivers down his arms and legs. He hadn’t stopped trembling since the first winter he was there. The sun, though obscured by a mass of grey clouds, felt nice though he could have been imagining it all. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

He didn’t have enough strength in him to feel scared about the change in routine and he didn’t have enough in him to fight it. Upon learning that he was to be moved, the guards took extra care to make him feel at home with their iron coated boots before they threw him in the back of an old rickety cart that trailed behind the ebony carriage of the Duke of Hervor. With the heavy iron mask on his head, he hit the splintery wooden boards of the cart and could only lay where the soldiers had tossed him. He didn’t know where they were taking him just as he didn’t know where the hell he even was in the strange land called England. He heard talk about meeting the King but he didn’t know if that was just going to be a new face or a different dungeon. The Duke was angry at having to bring him and Edward could feel that something was going to happen. He didn’t think it was going to be good at all. He would have been terrified if he could feel anything at that moment.

The bumping of the cart didn’t bother him as he closed his eyes. He was weak, horribly weak, as starvation and torture had taken their toll even on a man who couldn’t be hurt. He tried to lift his hands up to look at them but he didn’t even have the strength to do that. He bet he was a skeleton. If he looked in the mirror he would have mistaken his reflection for a corpse. He fell in and out of sleep as he guards would kick him every now and then to make sure he was even alive. If he died there it would have been the only the tenth time he died of malnourishment or negligence. Simply taking the mask off would revive him but rehabilitation would have taken months.

It took hours but soon he felt the heavy shadow of a castle wall fall over him as the convoy pulled into the grand castle. From the time it took the carts to even reach the front entrance of the castle Edward could tell that it was big. He shivered at the idea of their dungeon being bigger. There was a lurch as the horses were pulled to a halt and a sudden slam as the Duke stormed out of his carriage.

“Keep him there unless otherwise noted. I will be damned if that brat gets him!” the man bit as his footsteps stormed away. The guards around Edward tightened their grip on the chains that had bound his hands and legs. Something was going to happen. They all knew it.

………

“Merlin stop shaking,” Professor Ravenclaw snipped as she batted his trembling hands and ordered him to stand up straight. He shoved his hands behind his back to try and feign composure. It didn’t work. The King glanced over at him and raised a brow at his worry.

“You are my most trusted advisor, Merlin, and friend. I must believe that this isn’t some tall tale you are spinning but immortality is most fantastical, even the idea that the Duke is illegally holding people in his dungeon without my knowing is absurd.”

“Your Highness, I would not lie about this. He saved my life from the witch hunts. I thought he was dead. Until we started to hear rumors.”

“Rumors aren’t truth, merely gossip.”

“When Merlin first brought his concerns to us, I used a pinpoint charm to seek Paracelsus out and found him to be in the Duke of Hervor’s castle. It wouldn’t have worked if he was dead,” Ravenclaw said. Merlin knew that Professor Ravenclaw was the wisest of Hogwart’s founders and had gone to her in hopes that she would help him find Paracelsus. After he saved his life from the villagers of Egg, Merlin searched high and low for someone who would help save him. His mother argued that he shouldn’t help the wizard since it was he who had brought his fate upon him, but Merlin couldn’t leave a debt unpaid. It wasn’t right that Paracelsus was getting punished when he didn’t even know what he did or even where he was at. However, people were either too scared to go into the dutchy of Hervor or they simply didn’t care enough to help a stranger. Merlin’s own family wouldn’t dare go back to Egg in fear of being caught again. Merlin asked her and the heads of his school for help and all of them instantly agreed. He didn’t know if it was their care for the kid or the mysterious circumstances he arrived in that hooked the professors to the search but he didn’t care. They all pulled any string they could find to get him into acquaintance with the King. With the political ties between the King, the Duke, and the wizards, steps needed to be taken lightly to avoid war and persecution. Though Merlin wanted nothing more than to barge into the Duke’s dungeon and free Paracelsus, he couldn’t. It took them two years to settle into the King’s agreement and to make a meeting with the Duke concerning Paracelsus’ well being. Now Professor Ravenclaw, the wisest of the founders and well versed in court behaviors, etiquette and politics, was there to represent the wizarding community in the conference. It was better, Merlin thought, than being by himself. He didn’t imagine himself to be a good politician. Not with how he was shaking.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” Merlin asked as he noticed Arthur was looking disturbed. He had been assigned as the King’s personal mage for two years now as his apprenticeship when he was not in school. The Royal advisors thought it best if the King had a mage around his age to help with the coping of magic. Being the only person around the king’s age made it very easy for them not only to get along but to become friends. He could tell something was bothering the King as they awaited for the arrival of the Duke.

“The idea of immortality being real is… frightening. If that were to get in the wrong hands…”

“He’s a person, your highness, not a weapon.”

“There comes times of such desperation that someone can’t tell the difference.”

Suddenly the doors to the hall burst open and the Duke of Hervor came rushing into the grand hall, the poor squire running after him.

“Duke Johan of Hervor!” the squire feebly announced far too late as the Duke was already kneeling at the base of the steps that lead up to the throne. The anger radiating off the man was deadly. He glared at Professor Ravenclaw and Merlin before giving his blessings to the King he served under.

“Your Highness, I humbly followed your call though I feel that there was no need to call over something so simple-“

“You illegally held a person in your dungeons without verifying their presence with me,” Arthur snapped cutting the man off. He didn’t like that.

“He was a criminal. He destroyed half of my crops, most of which were the peasant’s own fields. He deserved to be punished. For his debt to the Dutchy I simply took his enslavement as payment. The possible lives of the serfs who will starve without the food he destroyed, for the life of a filthy witch.”

“Magic is not illegal in England and yet witch hunts pursue in your dutchy.”

“But slavery is not,” the Duke smiled. “I had no idea that the witch hunts were continuing in my land until I was told about this unkillable heathen. I made sure that they had stopped after I apprehended the criminal.”

“He lies,” Merlin whispered to the King only to receive a sharp elbow to the ribs from his professor. The woman gave him a strict glare. Arthur didn’t say anything for a while. He simply sat there and studied the man in front of him. It took a few seconds but it seemed that the King had come to his own conclusion on the matter.

“I don’t want to override the Dutchy’s autonomy. You have the right to rule your land as long as you follow the rules that the Kingdom sets out for you. Due to the ambivalence behind your most recent prisoner, it would be in the Kingdom and the Dutchy’s best interest to nullify any possible misunderstandings. As long as you follow the laws of witchcraft and imprisonment from here on out, I will offer you a hefty amount to buy your newest slave.” The Duke’s eyes widened.

“But… But… your highness, he is such a unique and strange asset. I am sure that the price would be far too high-“

“Unless you want to start a war between your Dutchy and the rest of the Kingdom over your complete disregardance for my rule. I would suggest you take the offer. And as I stated before, any price.” King Arthur glared down at the fool of a man infront of him. It appeared like he wanted to fight the King. A fourty year old ruler looked silly being beated by an 11 year old brat. However, it was obvious that the result of that was not going to be in his favor at all. The man growled and grabbed the collar of the squire’s tunic behind him.

“Bring the beast in.”

“Sir-“

“Bring him in!” the Duke howled and kicked the young boy towards the door. The kid went running out the door and disappeared within seconds.

“Merlin, stop shaking,” Professor Ravenclaw ordered again. Her stern and logical personality was not the most calming thing at that moment. He wondered why it couldn’t have been Professor Slytherin with him at that moment and not her. He clasped his hands tightly. 

Suddenly the doors were slammed open so fast that the heavy oak hit the wall with an ear shattering bang. Two large guards stormed in carrying a small sack of something. Chains clattered with every step they took up to the Duke. It wasn’t until they threw the thing they were carrying down on the floor at the Duke’s feet that Merlin realized it was a person. He was naked and bone thin to the point he couldn’t even lift his head off the stone floor. Heavy breaths escaped out the metal mask that encased his head as the man was too weak to even breathe without a struggle. Merlin thought it was a joke. The Duke was trying to trick them for sure. Surely that skeleton of a person was not the strong boy that had apparated in the middle of the wheat field two whole years ago. However as Merlin caught sight of the strange silver metal that encased the boy’s entire arm and shoulder, he knew that it was true. That was Paracelsus.

………

“1000 gold and ten of your best horses,” the Duke barked above him at someone that Edward could not see. It sounded like he was being sold. Edward should have been concerned. He should have been terrified. But he found himself only to be tired and wanting any form of relief. He didn’t care who took him. He didn’t care who would be the face behind the next knife. Edward only wanted a break for a few moments and so he did the only thing he could do and laid there where the guards had dropped him.  His body trembled horribly as his frozen state warmed up and burned in the heated chamber room. It felt like he was on the stake again. He struggled to lift himself from the floor as to ease the sensation but the mask and chains held him down. He was too weak to even move himself.

“I will double that. Now release him,” a young voice replied from across the room finishing the exchange of his life for a measly pile of gold. Edward closed his eyes as he heard the drop of his chains to the floor as the guards backed away from him as to let room for his new captors to take over. He didn’t want to watch them drag him away. Footsteps pounded down the stairs and soon Edward was staring at delicately sewn slippers of a well-dressed man. The heavy mask around him was lifted off the floor and his head gently came to rest on someone’s lap as they struggled to unlock the contraption from him. They were releasing him. Edward blinked as he stared up blankly at the person who fumbled over his locks to free him. His vision took its slow time to focus but it revealed a rather familiar face above him.

“Don’t worry Paracelsus, it’s me, Merlin,” he heard the soft comforting voice from years ago tell him. He blinked once more dazedly at him as he tried to focus some more. It had to be a dream. There was no way that the farm boy from two years ago was there in the King’s castle. He was hallucinating. It wouldn’t be the first time. He often saw things that weren’t there when he was alone in the dungeons either recovering from some odd poison the Duke shoved down his throat or losing his mind to hysteria. But no matter how he tried to make Merlin disappear, he was still there. There was a snap and suddenly the mask fell away, the heavy metal peeling away from his skin. Air rushed onto his face where it couldn’t reach before and Edward let out a horrible moan of relief as his jaw slammed tightly shut, having been pried open for months on end. He couldn’t remember the last time the Duke had to take the mask off. He had gotten more careful about it over the years of his confinement. Edward closed his eyes and reached up to touch his face. His skin was paper thin and clammy though his mouth was parched and dry. He rubbed the sides of his face where the edges of the mask had dug in. It was gone?

“Brother!” he heard Alphonse exclaim in a happy sob. How long had it been since he heard his voice? He couldn’t remember, but it brought tears to his eyes. Edward didn’t know what else to do but cry. He wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted to hug him and embrace him after being apart for so long but his mouth was glued shut from months of strain and his brother was still bodiless and trapped inside of him. The most he could do was listen to his friends voices and relish in them when he could. He didn’t know when they would return him to the mask once more. He doubted his new warden was stupid enough to let him go.

“Brother, you are safe. It’s Merlin! Look!” Edward opened his eyes again but his vision was clouded through the tears. He blinked them away and still the face of the youngest Ambrosius remained. It was not an illusion. It really was that little farm boy he accidentally had sentenced to death two years ago.

Someone tugged on his wrists and his feet and soon the shackles that restrained him there fell away and their heavy chains hauled off. The cool air soothed the rough and calloused skin that scarred his ankle and wrist. He stared at his bare hands quizzically. He could clap his hands and be free from there. Was it really that simple now? Two years in the frozen dungeon and just like that he was free. No struggle. No glorious fight. They just let him go. Gentle hands laid on his shoulder causing him to look up.

“Paracelsus, it is me, Merlin, remember? You saved my life,” the boy above him whispered gently. He could only nod his head in acknowledgement. “It took me forever to find you. But you are free now. It’s alright.” Something that resembled a smile stretched across Edward’s face. His muscles were strained and weak he had almost forgotten how to make one. He smiled back at Merlin, his gratitude for his release coming out in blubbering tears of joy and relief. He was free. However, his rejoicing did not last long as an outraged burst bounded across the room.

“Take your damn horses, your fucking highness!” the Duke growled as he seemed to be overcome by his wits seeing Edward freed. Edward looked up to see the man storming back towards him, a starved look in his eyes. The pure hate that lived there was boiling over seeing Edward freed with other people he was trying to persecute. He had lost his mind when he had lost the wager. “For the kingdom of God, this devil dies tonight!” Edward struggled to bring his hands together as the Duke grabbed a hold of one of the guards swords. In a second the sword was plunged into his chest and screams erupted around the chamber room. Edward gasped for air and choked on the pain, the Duke staring down at him with victory. As the guards around the room lifted their weapons to retaliate against the attack, Edward strained to bring his hand up and grab a hold of the blade lodged into him. The instant his fingers touched a blue alchemic energy sparked along the length of the sword. Not being freed in the entirety of his captivity, the duke didn’t understand what happened when he clapped his hands. The end of the sword warped and shot out, piecing a hole through the duke’s chest as he stood over him. The now double edged sword held them both in place.

“M-monster,” the man wheezed as he struggled to hold what little life he had left. Guards ran forward and shoved the duke off of him and the sword was quickly removed. Red lights sprang up around his wound and in a second, the pain was no more. Edward drew in a greedy breath and coughed as strong arms wrapped around his chest and lifted him to his feet. His eyes fell down to the floor and caught the Duke’s corpse discarded there. Edward felt his blood run cold as he stared into his unseeing eyes. I killed him. The shock froze his mind as he was hauled away from the fight. Guards flowed around the room barking unheard orders. The dark haired woman followed beside him, talking quickly and yet Edward could hear nothing. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a golden man standing in the throne room, unfazed by the chaos around him. The crowned man, no, boy stared at him, an oddly pleased smile on his face. Edward felt the icy touch of fear ingrain itself into his bones as he was hauled out of the room and behind closed doors. He didn’t think the Duke was the biggest threat in that room.

…….

Edward stared up at the ceiling as he soaked in the warm back of water that enveloped him. It was warm, nearly too warm as it heated him through to his bones. He was shocked when Merlin had not carried him down to a dungeon. He was even more shocked when the kid had brought him to a well furnished chamber room and began to run a bath for him. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. He had killed someone. Killed someone. And they weren’t punishing him for it. He still saw the Duke’s dead eyes staring at him when he blinked. He did something that he had never wanted to do under any circumstance. His friends argued that it was defense, but what could an immortal man need to defend himself against? He was shaking so badly from the whole event Merlin had to take several minutes to calm him down.

“He had wrongfully imprisoned you and attacked someone in the King’s court room. He would have been sentenced to death anyways. What he did to you was horribly wrong. We are going to take care of you. You need not be afraid anymore.” Merlin had consoled him for a long time as well as his brother and friends. He didn’t accept that it happened, the weight of the murder stilled weighed on his chest, but he followed the small commands of Merlin to get into the tub and get clean. It was the only thing he could do.

The warm water soothed his bones and washed away the blood, dirt, and grime that had collected on him over the two entire years of confinement. Edward felt his thoughts fade away to the background as he washed away the past two years. Every clump of dirt peeled away, every patch of blood crumbled off. He found himself scratching his face as if to peel the invisible remnants of the mask off him. He still felt it there.

“Stop scratching your face, brother. It is not on you anymore.” Edward closed his eyes and sank himself lower into the bathtub. He sat there and listened to the people in the stone chat amongst themselves and to him. Apparently when he was locked away in the mask, Hohenheim began to introduce all of the Xerxians to all of the Amestrians. With two whole years with nothing to do but to talk to each other, it seemed everyone got well acquainted. He even heard Mustang and Winry talk to people who Edward did not know at all nor even recognize in passing. The whole country knew each other, except that was for him. However, he didn’t mind. He had the feeling that he would have plenty of time to meet everyone. Right then, all he wanted to do was breathe and enjoy the presence of his friends even though he could not see them. He didn’t know when they would go away again.

There was a soft clanking and Edward silently glanced over to the corner of the room where the woman was stirring something in a rather large black cauldron. Merlin had left him when the King had called and Edward was alone with this woman called Ravenclaw. Steam wafted off the odd mixture as she ladled some into a wooden goblet. She blew on it as if that would help cool it off. Edward was so entranced with what she was doing that he didn’t even realize that she was handing it to him until he felt her nudge his shoulder.

“Drink this,” she ordered. Edward stared down into the odd brown substance. It was bubbling and reminded him of someone trying to boil mud. “It’s not poisonous,” she said as if she had read his thoughts. “It is a nutrition potion to give you your strength back.” Edward hesitated until his friends encouraged him that he was fine and then delicately took a small sip. The taste of raspberries instantly overwhelmed him and he spat what little he had out of his mouth. He grimaced and shook his head to get the taste out. It was good but he couldn’t stand it. It was way too strong. The woman grabbed the goblet before he could drop it and let out a tired sigh. She set it down on the small table that held the soaps and the scissors that the servants were going to use to cut the matte of hair off of his head. Edward didn’t let them do that, not yet. The woman picked up the pair of scissors. It seemed like she was going to finish what was left undone.

“I discussed with the King as to your position here in the castle. As he purchased and now owns you, he is of the authority to decide what to do with you. He imagines that keeping you locked up like the Duke did would be a waste of his property,” she told him as she took a seat in a wooden chair left by the wash basin. Edward tried to wiggle away from her but he knew that no matter what someone was going to cut his hair. It was knotted and so packed full of sweat and dirt that it was practically a rock on his head. It needed to go.

“It will grow back,” Alphonse told him softly. There was a snip and a large piece of his hair fell down to the floor. Edward sighed, trying to calm how upset he was. Why of all things was he so distraught about something so petty?

“There is normality in keeping something so simple the same. It is a part of you. You have a right to be upset,” Hawkeye told him. “But your brother is right, it will grow back soon enough.”

“I don’t like it,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and jaw barely opening to squeeze the words out. Months with the mask on left him near speechless. He was reminded, again, that that too will pass.

“You don’t like being out of the dungeons?” Ravenclaw asked rhetorically. “Well we could surely arrange for you return if that is what you wish-“

“NO!” Edward yelped, his voice cracking. He pulled away from the woman and in his outburst tried to stand up. He only effectively fell back into the wash tub making a huge wave of water splash over the edge. He still couldn’t walk, especially not with a nonworking automail leg. He sat half submerged in the warm bath, useless, and pleading to be anywhere but the dungeons. It was the only thing he could do and the woman looked at him unimpressed. She reached over and handed him back the goblet that he had turned away.

“Maybe if you finish this you might be able to stand,” she scolded him. “You aren’t going back there. Merlin and I wouldn’t allow it. Merlin vouched for your aptitude in magic and the King has decided to make you a royal mage should you complete all of the necessary course work. I contacted the rest of the professors at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and we agreed to enroll you.”

“No such thing,” Edward croaked. Ravenclaw did not look offended. She simply raised her brow curiously.

“Nothing is impossible. Surely you must know this as you are a prime example of that fact.” Edward looked down. She was right. He was an immortal philosopher’s stone now. He held over 50 million people inside of him and couldn’t be killed by normal means. To most it was impossible. Maybe magic wasn’t that far off. He wanted to retort some more and to ask for some explanation to the magic that these people were talking about but paused as he watched her stand up. She waved her wand behind her and suddenly the wooden chair she had once been sitting on followed her around to the other side of the washtub that he was now sitting at. She gently set it down and sat so that she could continue to cut his hair. However, she couldn’t start as he was there gaping at her.

“Close your mouth and drink your juice. One would have thought someone taught you manners,” she ordered before turning his head around and snipping off another piece of hair. “You are a wizard, Paracelsus, believe it or not, and you better make the best of it.”

“I-I’m an alchemist, not a-a-a…. witch,” Edward said, the last word coming out a whisper as if the word itself would burn him again.

“There is a book in our school that records the names of all witches and wizards when they come of age. That is usually around the ages of 10 or 11. It is a wonder why you’re a teenager and your name hasn’t appeared in it until now but it is there. Or am I wrong and Edward Elric is not your name, Paracelsus?” Edward’s eyes widened and he looked back at the woman, slightly frightened. How did she know? He didn’t tell anyone his real name in this world. Even Merlin only knew him as Paracelsus. Ravenclaw gave a small smile, the only ones she seemed to know how to give, and turned his head back around so she could finish cutting it.

“The pin pointing charm only works with real names. It didn’t work with Paracelsus so  I tried every name that appeared in the book within the last 20 years that I didn’t already know belonged to someone. Edward Elric happened to be it. I will address you as Paracelsus if you would like me to. No one has to know but me.” Edward nodded his head. He would like it better if he was just someone else. A name that would fit in would make him feel more comfortable when he himself did not.

“But… I-I can’t do magic-“

“Have you ever tried?” He didn’t answer. The woman sighed.

“Paracelsus, you are the same person no matter what powers you wield, no matter what tricks you can do, you are still the same person. Whether or not you call yourself a witch doesn’t matter. You still have an innate magical ability in you. Learning magic is the last chance of near complete freedom the King is willing to give you. If you choose not to do it, he will put you back in the dungeons as no other option. You are in no state to fight about this.” Edward felt a rock settle in his chest as he realized he didn’t have a choice whether or not he wanted to be a witch. He was going to learn magic or find the mask back on him in a new dungeon. It was probably a way that the King wanted to keep him in check. He would be taught under the watchful eye of some of the most powerful and skilled wizards in the world. If he chose not to do what the King said the probably wouldn’t hesitate to bring him back one way or another. Edward bit his lip as he closed his eyes tiredly. He really didn’t have a choice.

Ravenclaw snipped off one last piece of hair. Soon he heard the clatter of scissors and a mirror was placed in front of his face for him to see only Edward wasn’t looking at his hair. The face that looked back at him was not his. It was some stranger, bone thin and worn out. Their eyes were sunken into their head like there wasn’t enough there to even hold them up. He could count every rib and probably if he took the time, he probably could have counted every bone in the man’s body. That wasn’t him.

“Don’t recognize yourself, do you?” Ravenclaw asked softly though her sympathy was subtle. Edward reached up a hand to touch his face just to see if the person in the mirror copied him. They did. “If you drink the potions I give you, you will be back to yourself in no time,” she snipped before trading the mirror for the cup he still hadn’t touched. Under the pressure of her watchful gaze, he took another sip. Raspberries. He coughed.

“Once you are strong enough, I will send word back to Godric. We will head to Hogwarts as soon as you are willing.” She said that to reassure him but it must have been obvious that he was still confused, skeptical even. She signed and set a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t you worry about what you believe is real or not. We will teach you the ways of a wizard and you will have the choice whether to follow them or not, Paracelsus. Diving into the unknown is not as scary as you might think. Who knows, it might give you answers to the questions you have not yet asked,” she told him wisely. “Now finish that up and let’s get you into bed. You won’t get out of this castle any faster if you lollygag on healing.” Edward tried his best to drink the rest of his potion but only managed to down a quarter before his was full. Ravenclaw helped him out of the wash tub and over to the large feather bed in the center of the chamber room. His automail leg and arm were dead weights to him. With as much weight and mass that he lost, he doubted that wearing them was good for him. Edward was panting by the time he hit the bed from the excursion.

“Take your automail off if the joints didn’t melt together,” Winry ordered him. Edward blindly followed her orders and fingered for the release latch on his leg. He closed his eyes and winced as he pulled on the leaver. A shot of pain rattled through him but luckily the leg easily slid out of the port. He was lucky the fires didn’t damage the port more than it had or else he was in for a bad trip. The relief of removing the weight from his already strained port was immense. He let out a soft sigh as he found himself relaxing. He didn’t know how to fix his automail, but that was a problem for another day. He would have to alchemize a false leg when he could. Nothing more than a fancy peg leg. But if he could walk by himself once he had the strength to do so, he would be happy. Ravenclaw watched him carefully take his arm off and even helped slide it out of the port once the lever was pulled. They obviously did not have that technology in England as far as Edward could tell but she seemed like a fast learner. She set his arm and leg down on a desk beside the bed and handed him a pile of fresh clothes. He would have been embarrassed to be naked in front of the woman, but he didn’t have the will to care.

“Get dressed, and go to bed. I will have some more potions for you in the morning. If you need anything call upon one of the servants and they will fetch me or Merlin,” she said before taking her leave. Edward listened as she closed the door but did not hear her leave the doorway. It seemed like she was talking to someone outside but he couldn’t hear any words. Edward looked down and fingered the silken clothes in his hand. He was not used to all of this luxury. It made him afraid that he would wake up and it would simply not be there anymore. However, that fear did not stop him from indulging in them while he could. He slid into the clothes he was given and under the covers of the bed. They were so warm and soft that he had fallen to sleep near instantly.

………

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 16

Picking Sides

Edward awoke to a strange presence in his room. The sun was far up into the sky being the early afternoon but the curtains were drawn closed as no one had dared disturb him yet. But even as the room felt abandoned, Edward couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was there. A yawn escaped his lips as he pushed himself up in the bed. It was a difficult task as it almost felt the soft pillows were going to drag him back in. He wanted nothing more than to simply sink into them once more but he didn’t feel right. Someone was there.

Edward was startled to see someone staring at him from the foot of the bed. He raised his hand to clap them together but had forgotten that he had removed his automail the night before. It was sitting across the room and he was defenseless without it. The man did not seem as startled as he was, and only studied him more. He appeared to be young but Edward didn’t want to make any bets in the dim light. Appearances could be deceiving. The way he looked him over held a strange eagerness that Edward didn’t like. He didn’t like that the man was there, but more so that he was alone with him. After a little bit, the man seemed to shake some sense into himself and chuckled a little bit as if he had just made a joke, or found himself to be silly. Edward didn’t find anything funny at all.

“Merlin has told me all about you and yet I know nothing,” he said as he rounded the side of the bed and pulled out the chair from the desk table to sit on. Closer, Edward realized that the man was the young king he had seen the other day watching him. But he wasn’t only young, he was simply a kid, not much older than him, maybe even younger. He had a matte of light blonde hair on top of his head and a thin ring of gold that sparkled in the short dazzles of light that escaped the heavy curtains over the windows. This wasn’t what he thought his savior would look like. This also wasn’t what he thought his new captor would look like either.

“Would you mind telling me where you are from? I cannot place your accent anywhere in England and yet you speak fluent English though in few words.” Edward kept silent. He did not know how to really address a King and he didn’t feel the need to explain Amestris. People would believe he was insane. However, the King continued to prod. “Surely there must be other people like you,” the King smirked. “I know nearly all of the lands in the entire world. I am sure I know what small village you come from if not the ruler of it.“ Edward frowned as he realized that the King wasn’t wanting to have a civil conversation like he made it appear to be. He wanted to know if there was anyone else like him. If there were anymore immortals or other strange powers. The Duke was nearly ready to go to war over only him. For the King to be searching for more people like him, Edward didn’t think it was good.

“I’m not from anywhere,” Edward whispered, adding a short ‘your highness’ after it in hopes to address the man properly. The King frowned, not appeased by this answer but he didn’t engage into the topic farther.

“I am guessing you already are informed of your status here in the castle?”

“Yes,” Edward said guardedly. He would have elaborated for the King’s sake but he didn’t feel the need to. Saying how he was now considered the man’s property and had no legal freedoms did not sit well for him. He knew it would have left a bad taste in his mouth.

“I know it might be different for you, but being a royal mage is a great luxury not many could afford. Especially in your state after killing the Duke. My guards wanted to arrest you for murder. I guess you know where that would have lead you,” he said with a clever smile. Edward held his breath as he started to think back towards the deep dark dungeons. He remembered every scratch in the stone, ever fleck of ice that formed in the winter time. He closed his eyes in hopes to chase the memory away. The king sighed as he watched him and Edward felt a hand rest on his knee. “I spun it like you were protecting me. You are now a hero of the people. I am doing you a favor by giving you this position in my court.” Edward felt himself heat up as he grew angry. The kid was acting like denying him his freedom was a gift. He didn’t care about being a royal mage or anything. He only wanted to leave.

“Edward, do not piss him off,” Mustang warned him. “He is royalty. You would sooner find yourself in the dungeons or being chased down by his guard than to get your way. Thank him and let it be.”

“Thank you,” Edward bit out, biting his tongue to keep from insulting the kid. The King looked pleased as he saw him struggle to show his gratitude. He was smug, like he had just tamed a beast. To some, especially with what happened to the Duke, it might appear as he had.

“I think you will like it here. We definitely will find good use for you,” the kid smiled. The door opened up as Merlin entered the chamber and the King stood up. He patted Edward’s shoulder like they just had a friendly brotherly chat. “Merlin, have a safe journey back to your school,” he said. “Keep me updated.” Merlin looked bewildered as he wasn’t prepared to have the King in the chambers for such an informal meeting. Edward watched the King turn the corner and disappear, the distaste even stronger in his stomach than before.

Merlin moved with his tray of potions and set them down by his bedside.

“Professor Ravenclaw wanted me to bring these to you,” he said, brushing off the strange encounter with the King. “We are going to be headed to Hogwarts sooner than expected as you aren’t getting as well as we thought you would. The king is getting worried.”

“It’s only been a day.”

“For magic standards that is too long,” Merlin replied with a cocky smirk as he helped lift Edward into a higher sitting position. Edward wanted to struggle and to say that he could do it himself, but even he knew that he couldn’t. Merlin poured a glass of another potion and Edward recognized it as that raspberry one again. After a sip, he grimaced making Merlin laugh at him.

“I can’t believe you knew nothing about magic. With all that you could do, with you apparating out of nowhere, I thought you had to know something,” Merlin chuckled lightly though there was a sad weight behind it. Edward put his glass down as he watched him. The young wizard looked away ashamed of whatever was going through his mind. It was then that Edward recognized it as guilt, something he was too familiar with.

“It’s not your fault,” Edward scolded him as he opened his mouth to apologize. Merlin looked surprise and questioned him if he could read minds. Edward rolled his eyes. Everything didn’t have to deal with magic. “It’s written on your face,” he clarified. “It’s not your fault. I put your family in danger.”

“You knew nothing of magic and you still stood up. I don’t care who’s fault it is. You saved my life and the life of my parents. I could never repay you enough,” Merlin argued. “Since you got taken away, I have been asking everyone I knew to help find you again. I asked all the professors and King Arthur to help. I knew they would pull some strings to help you but it took so long. You don’t understand how happy I am to have finally found you.”

“We only knew each other for a day. Why help me?”

“One day is enough to make an impression isn’t it?” Merlin chuckled like saving each other’s lives was a simple joke in passing. “Besides, you are a very peculiar man. Neither a wizard, nor a muggle. You are fascinating and I like you.” Edward found himself letting out a small chuckle. It seemed that Merlin was easily excitable and more eager to become friends with someone who confounded him. Edward didn’t know much about him aside from the fact that he went to school and was under an apprenticeship for the King’s court. However, Edward couldn’t see himself minding about getting to know him better.

“Will you be at the school?” Edward asked hopefully. Merlin eagerly nodded his head.

“Yes! I will be at Hogwarts after the Feast of Nativity. I hope you are in Slytherin house for your schooling-“

“House?”

“Yes, it is a boarding school. Students are split up into houses they fit into the best, each run by one of the four founders. There is Hufflepuff for the kind, Gryffindor for the brave, Ravenclaw for the wise, and Slytherin for the cunning. You would love Slytherin. It’s the best-”

“Don’t go pushing your will on Paracelsus, Merlin!” a sudden voice scolded him. Edward looked over to see Ravenclaw entering the room. Merlin stood up, red in the face from embarrassment.

“Y-yes ma’m!” he stumbled. Ravenclaw walked across the room and set a large bundle of cloth down on the bed. Edward saw that it was a stack of blankets and an even smaller stack of clothes. Ravenclaw was bundled in a long cloak, a garmet obviously for travelling purposes. Were they leaving right then?

“We can heal people in miraculous time with the correct potions and spells but you seem to be the one exception,” Ravenclaw huffed as she seemed to sense his question before he even asked it. “I have contacted Hogwarts and will be taking you back sooner than we have anticipated. I feel like the school’s Nurse and Potion’s Master would be better suited to help you. I might be able to make a good solid potion, but Salazar is more acquainted with difficulties such as this. I have arranged a carriage for you. It will be a long ride but apparition will surely kill you and you would sooner fall off a broomstick than a carriage.”

Edward didn’t imagine that he would be leaving for the school so soon. An overwhelming sense of dread crept into him at the thought of moving again, into the hands of more strangers. He desperately wanted some familiarity that he knew he couldn’t have. He wanted to be with people he knew. He didn’t want to go to the school, he wanted to go home.

“Everyone in this world is going to be a stranger, Edward. You are going to have to just make friends and get along with them like you would anyone else in Amestris. It’s going to be different, but you are going to be fine,” Hawkeye told him. “You still have us. Remember that.”

A roar of agreeing people filled his ears. The sound of their happy voices lifted his spirits and settled his worry. It wasn’t the same having everyone in the stone instead of around him, but maybe he could make due. He looked down at the pile of clothes Ravenclaw had given him. He reached out but remembered that he only had one leg and one arm. He would not be able to travel in his state. He could barely stand and without his leg he definitely was not going to get anywhere. He was going to need to make one soon.

“I-I need a leg,” Edward said, a bit embarrassed. Merlin quickly ran over to the desk and retrieved his automail for him. He set it down on the bed like that instantly solved the problem. It didn’t. They were still broken. Edward shook his head.

“Paper and pen?” he asked instead as he started to examine the room for possible materials. There was a wooden side table he might be able to use. It was light weight. It would be rough, but even a peg leg was better than nothing. Ravenclaw opened up the desk and handed him a feather quill from what appeared to be some sort of owl. Edward thumbed the edge of the feather, feeling the softness of the plume. The tip of the feather was split to draw ink when it was dipped into a well.

“The most basic form of the pen was first created at the turn of the 19^th century. If this world is like ours they haven’t been invented yet.” His father clarified. Edward frowned as he fingered the quill. He really was a long way from home. Along with the pen the witch handed him about a foot of paper and a well of purple ink. Edward took a few practice scribbles with the quill. He dropped a few splotches of ink before he got the relative hang of it though his handwriting was still atrocious. Soon enough he had a simple circle drawn out for him to use. He set the piece of paper down on the side table and ignited the circle. Alchemic energy flowed through it and the wood began to meld and shift. The result was a basic prosthetic leg, one similar to those he had to wear when Winry was fixing his automail. Edward sighed as he looked at it. He didn’t know how she would be able to fix his leg now.

As he reached for his new leg his hand was caught out of thin air. Edward gasped as he was held firm, Ravenclaw’s fingers digging into his delicate skin. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to pull his hand away but it only twisted in her grip and managed to hurt worse. His eyes grew wide in fear as he stared at her stern face.

“Paracelsus, I would advise you to refrain from using your strange powers again,” Ravenclaw hissed at him under her breath. Edward was suddenly terrified of her as he thought she was going to hurt him for using alchemy, but he noticed that she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were glancing back towards the door and around the room as if she imagined that they were being watched. She wasn’t hurting him but warning him. “If I am right, and this power is connected to your immortality, it would be wise of you to keep them hidden. You don’t know what lengths someone would go through to use them, or you.” Edward swallowed the lump in his throat. He had once imagined that he knew what someone would do for alchemy. He had seen Father build and destroy his entire country for alchemy’s power of immortality. He had suffered imprisonment by the Duke as the man picked him apart to seek the answers to death. However, as Ravenclaw spoke to him, he realized his experiences were just glancing over the surface of horrors that could come from someone wanting his power. His mind flashed back to the unsettling feeling he got from the King. He would hate for that man to dive down into the depths of that pool Ravenclaw was warning him about.

Ravenclaw held him tightly until she got an answer that he had understood what she had meant. He nodded his head quickly and felt his wrist get relinquished from her grip. He rubbed it hard against the soft mattress to get the horrible feeling of shackles off him. A horrible shiver raked his chest as he massaged the memory that had ingrained itself into his skin. Ravenclaw, noticing his struggle, let him be for a couple moments as she ordered Merlin to keep quiet about his state.

“The other students should not be worried about his oddities. I believe you would understand that,” she said. Merlin obediently confirmed. It seemed he understood very well.

“It will be safer for you back at Hogwarts,” she said to Edward. “Now get ready. You have a big day ahead of you.” Edward looked down at his leg that was still lying on the floor. He hesitated to reach for it again, afraid that he would be stopped once more, but after a small bit of encouragement from Hawkeye he picked it up and situated it at the end of his residual limb. He lined up his leg and attached it, locking it in place. He sighed as he sat there looking at his mismatched feet. The one was bulky and of a light wood. The other was boney and thin. The one was dead, the other barely alive. Edward almost felt like he would never walk again.

“If you went through automail surgery in a year, you will walk again from something as simple as this.” Pinako scolded him. Edward bit his lip. It really was simple right? It wasn’t some elaborate scheme the world had put together to defeat him. It was simply miscommunication and the greed of a Duke that lead to his two year confinement and torture. Yeah. Simple. Only it really didn’t feel like it.

“It will take time, but you will get there,” Winry told him. Edward nodded his head in acceptance. He was still doubtful but too tired to argue. Gathering up his utensils, he handed the professor back the quill and ink as if to signify he wouldn’t draw anymore circles for the time being. He had his leg. That was good enough for now. Ravenclaw took them gently and put them away and Merlin handed him his clothes. Before long he was bundled in some cheap second hand clothes. They were obviously obtained from a servant’s quarters. It seemed that the King did not care to spend any more money on him than was necessary. Edward spent his time tucking in his empty sleeve to keep it out of the way and Ravenclaw began to gather some of the wool blankets off his bed and wrapped them around his shoulders.

“It is going to be cold out there,” was the only explanation he got. A flick of her wand had the blankets fixated into a cape around him. The dark red wool standing bright out from his pale paper skin. “Come Paracelsus. We must be on our way. We will have a trunk sent up for your metal contraptions and load the carriages. You have a long journey ahead of you,” Ravenclaw ordered him. Merlin offered him his hand and Edward cautiously took it only to find himself staggering on his feet a few seconds later. His knees buckled under the weight and the young wizard tried his best to hold him up. Edward could barely stand. He couldn’t imagine travelling so very far to some strange school. But eventually, Merlin encouraged him to take his first step, and he did. Edward focused hard but he took another one with help. Maybe they were right. Maybe he would recover from something as simple as this. 

“I know everything is so new for you, learning about magic after everything that had happened, but we’ll make right of it, you see,” Merlin encouraged him. Eventually, he found himself walking out the door. ……

Edward shivered as he sat in the open carriage. The entire kingdom had gotten a thick blanket of snow the prior evening that he had not had the privilege to see until that moment. The sunset danced across the icy surface, transfixing his eyes to its beauty. He always hated winter. It hurt his automail and the only thing it ever brought was cold and wet. However, now he just let himself take it in. He didn’t think that he would ever come to miss something so simple.

He sighed calmly through his shivering body and drew the blankets closer around him. Though he had several wrapped around his shoulders, they seemed to do nothing as the cold still leaked through. He nuzzled his head down into the scratchy wool and watched his breath plume out of his nostrils. Icy clouds escaped him and made their way towards the heavens. They had been on the road for several days, each one taking an even grater toll on him. Ravenclaw fussed about him every second of the day, taking stops for meals and heating his blankets for him. Merlin had chanted his makeshift cape with a heating charm before he had left but it was weak and wore off quickly in the blistering snow. The long hours on the road, the weak meals, and the cold miserable weather made Edward feel like he would never see it to his destination as he began to fear even surviving the night. However, eventually Edward saw the tall towers of a castle rise above the trees.

Hogwarts was a rather magnificent structure, more beautiful than the king’s entire stretch of land, and it sat above a frozen and glistening lake. Edward watched in awe through the small hole he had made in his cocoon of blankets. The school was marvelous. Their horses trampled across a long stone bridge before they pulled to a halt outside the main doors. The place looked abandoned. At least, there wasn’t a person to be seen. Though the lights were lit in the windows, the castle looked new but very much unused.

“The students are on holiday. They will not be back until after the Feast of Nativity. Then you can see your friend Ambrosius again,” Ravenclaw told him as she pulled out her wand. She gave it a flick and a silver eagle spat out of the end of it. She simply pointed it into the castle as she hopped down from the carriage and it noiselessly flew away into the building.

“Come, the sooner we get you inside, the sooner you can get back on your feet.” Ravenclaw held out her hand for him and Edward sifted his hand out of his cocoon of blankets and took it gently. The woman practically lifted him out of the carriage. No sooner did his feet hit the ground did his legs give out on him. He would have fallen if Ravenclaw didn’t have such a strong hold on him. She busied herself to tighten the blanket around him before starting the walk inside. Edward took it one step at a time, leaning heavily on the witch next to him.

It seemed to take ages for them to even cross the threshold of the building but eventually Edward found himself gazing up and around the tall elaborate ceilings. The entrance hall was decorated with long candlelit chandeliers and huge staircase leading to an upper level. Four large hourglasses filled with different colored beads were decorated with different golden insignias; a snake, a lion, an eagle, and a badger. The craftmanship was beyond anything he ever saw. He didn’t know how else to describe it but magical. Edward was so transfixed with the architecture he didn’t realize that there were other people in the entrance hall until they were about to pass them. Three people stood solemnly at the bottom of the entrance stair case, looks of shock, intrigue, and sorrow mixed into them. Two men towered over either side of a kind looking woman. Each seemed to know who he was though it was impossible for Edward to say the reverse. Ravenclaw nodded to all three but made no word as they passed. Edward turned his head to look back at them as he passed. He saw the short witch lean over and talk to the broad chested wizard and whispered something to him, deep worry set into her features. He couldn’t tell what it was but a sense of dread fell through him.

He was not as welcome to Hogwarts as he was lead to believe.

It took a little while to make it up to the hospital ward but eventually Edward found himself tucked tightly into the soft bed with thick white blankets wrapped around him. The blankets he traveled with were torn away and a witch in nursing garb busied herself around him. Edward felt quickly overwhelmed and tried his best to get away from her. Ravenclaw, however, was not liking his discomfort.

“Paracelsus,” she scolded, her voice sharp in the quiet room. Edward paused from where he was trying to push the nurse’s wand out of his face. “Salazar Slytherin will be up in a few moments to help you. He is the potions master here and will sure enough find out what is wrong,” she clarified. However, as she was about to turn to leave, she hesitated and glanced back down at him. “You are safe here. Remember that. You are not in anymore danger.” Edward’s eyes widened as he listened to her. It was silly how that little reminder helped calm his nerves even a fraction of the way. He wanted to argue that he was not scared. He was in a hospital ward. What was there to be scared of? But he was. There was so many new things, and so many new people he was becoming quickly overwhelmed by it all. He was in solitude for so long in the Duke’s dungeon. Why was he wishing for solitude again?

“You spent so long by yourself. As horrible as it is, this is what you are familiar with now. Take it in strides. It is okay to feel like it is too much,” Hawkeye reminded him. The dungeons were the last place he ever wanted to go. He never wanted to return there let alone think about it. Yet the fast pace of the outside world was overstimulating. Edward wanted to shut it off, if only for a little while.

He soon got what he wanted. The nurse finished her busy work a little while after Ravenclaw left him and Edward was alone in the quiet hospital ward. The nurse was off in her office, the sound of her scratching quill and quiet murmurings muffled in the background. Edward found himself sinking into the mattress, the weight of his journey pushing him farther and farther into exhaustion. He slept for what he had imagined was only a few minutes but he was awaken to the darkness of the castle. Torches on the walls were dimly lit to cast a gentle glow across the hospital ward. A clinking of glasses and vials next to him had awoken him from his deep sleep. Edward glanced over to see a tall slender man next to him, fiddling about with some potions. He was slim with long dark hair. Edward recognized him from the entrance hall of the castle earlier. His cold eyes studied his work meticulously. However, he seemed to sense Edward watching him. Without a word, the man placed a potion into his hand and motion for him to drink it.

Again, Edward smelled raspberries. He took a sip and nearly dropped the goblet as the flavor was nearly three times as potent. He coughed and gasped as he tried to regain himself. However, along with the horrible taste came the wonderful feeling of invigoration. Edward felt completely refreshed like waking up after a long peaceful nap. He felt energized.

“Brother! Look!” Alphonse gasped. Edward couldn’t see where Alphonse was undoubtedly pointing to but he didn’t need to. Before his eyes he saw his placid and clammy complexion in his hand recover ever so lightly. The potion, whatever it was, was restoring him before his eyes. He gasped, jaw open in shock.

“I never made a potion that didn’t work and I was not about to start now,” the man next to him bit like Edward offended him by being so surprised. “You are lucky Rowena was very good at convincing us to keep you. Everyone was hesitant on having such a strange specimen within the walls of the castle. When you came to the castle I was sure there was a mistake. I am still having a hard time being convinced that Rowena didn’t bring home an urchin instead of a god. Time will tell I suppose.” The man muttered. The insult did not go over Edward’s head but Mustang did an excellent job at talking him down. They were still in a tense spot. Like the man said, no one had wanted him there to begin with. The man motioned for him to drink and Edward did, not saying a word.

Edward steeled himself and pinched his nose as he took a large gulp of the horrible concoction. It went down and he felt another surge of energy flow through him. He groaned as he felt his muscles grow. The pain associated was wonderful and Edward endured it. As he drank his potion, the man watched him with interest, one that Edward did not like. It felt like he was being looked upon as an object or creature rather than another person. He didn’t believe the man knew there was a difference. When the goblet was empty it was quickly replaced with another. This one was different than any of the ones Ravenclaw had given him before. He hesitated.

“Paracelsus, do you know who I am?” the man asked as he saw his hesitation. Edward looked up and studied him for a little. He had remembered Ravenclaw and Merlin telling him about the potion’s master at Hogwarts. That was the whole reason why they had endured this journey so soon.

“Professor Slytherin,” Edward croaked as his body began to buzz with how innervated it had become. He was shaking so bad he almost spilt his new glass.

“Yes, and do you know what it means to be a Slytherin?” Edward shook his head, much to the man’s annoyance. He went to take a sip of the new concoction as he waited for the man to continue. “I am from one of the purest wizarding blood lines there are. My family is very intuned with magic and much more clever when using it than most other wizards here. Most students look to me for inspiration and power. I strive to make the best students become legends and will fall nothing short of that. However, there are people who have squandered my skills and who have attempted to slander my name across the wizarding world. Well, I believe you have come to the conclusion by now that I have the power of making those mistakes disappear.”  Edward froze as a split second the potion went down his throat it started to choke him. For an instant he couldn’t breathe but the next it had vanished. The feeling of dying overwhelmed him and a wave of chaos erupted from the stone. The noise of hundreds of voices overwhelmed him and he let out a small yelp as he clutched his head, begging the people to stop.

“Edward, he poisoned that glass. Put it down,” Mustang warned him calmly.

“What?”

“Brother, you… you died just then. You were poisoned. It was so fast. Do not drink whatever that is.” Though he was acting very calm, his brother was in shock. If not, he was hiding his outrage and horror behind a very good mask. Edward looked down at the goblet he was holding and slowly set it down on the counter beside him. He didn’t even know he had died right then. That poison was meant to be quick. A normal person drinking it would not have even blinked before they were dead on the floor. Edward looked up at Slytherin, his eyes wide in shock. The man only wore a clever smile, knowing what he had done.

“Interesting. Your power is marvelous. I can sense the potential in you. When it comes time to pick a side, you would be wise to not cross me.” Slytherin stood up silently from his chair and picked up a few empty vials and the poisoned glass. “Drink the rest of your nutrition potions. The nurse will look you over and release you in the morning. From there we will decide what on earth to do with you.” The man left without another word and Edward was left alone in the empty ward once more. Ravenclaw said that he was safe at Hogwarts. He highly doubted that she was telling the truth.

………..

True to his word, the nurse released him the following morning but not after a fight. Edward was skeptical of the rest of his nutrition potions but the nurse ‘convinced’ him to drink them for his own good. They turned out not to be tainted but he nearly threw up all of their contents from having them shoved down his throat. He left the hospital ward quickly to avoid any more of the nurse’s wrath.

The nurse had given him directions to the great hall for something to eat. By the miracle work of the potion, Edward was able to walk on his own two feet, albeit shakily. Though the potions did not fully restore his body to where it once was – he still looked boney but luckily not on the verge of death—he was able to move freely, something that he hadn’t done for two years. He did not let that go to waste. Edward stumbled down the hallway, leaning his weight heavily on the walls, but making it on his own. He didn’t care that he had to stop every few feet to take a rest. He was walking again. That in itself, drew a smile on his face. The encouragement of his friends, doubly so. The effect was him beaming like an idiot for no reason as he stumbled down the stairs like a newborn calf.

There was soft chatter coming from the room Edward had presumed was the Great Hall by the nurse’s instructions.

“Did you see how thin he was, Godric?” a woman’s voice whispered quietly. “I am afraid for what happened to him. He knew nothing about magic and… this? You know people’s opinions on witchcraft are getting more chaotic. We should bring this to the Ministry.”

“What does Salazar have to say about his stay here?”

“I talked to him the other evening when I was giving him some more herbs for the boy’s potions. He thinks the boy is ignorant of magic and he told me he wanted no part in it. But…. He’s has been questioning his tutorship even more lately.”

“We must come to a decision soon, before the semester starts. I don’t think that any of us will ever come to terms about the matter. I will talk to Rowena to see if we can’t find an alternative.”

“I just want him to feel safe here, Godric. Lord knows what he’s been through. He looked so scared. I just…. Oh! Good morning!” the woman exclaimed as she caught sight of Edward standing in the doorway. She was short with a kind round face that seemed to warm the room. The man she was talking to turned around to look at him. He was short but broad with a long thick mane of brown hair. A smile grew on the man’s face as he saw him.

“Good morning, Paracelsus,” the man’s voice boomed as he walked over to where he was standing. “Those potions did wonders on you. You’re looking like a strong strapping man already! Makes me want to spar you to see what you’re worth! Ha!” The man slapped him on the back playfully, but his faith in his strength was misplaced. Edward instantly found himself on the ground.

“Godric! Be careful! He is still recovering!” the woman scolded him as she rushed over and helped Edward to his feet as he was having trouble standing. Edward’s heart dropped as he felt his legs start to tremble with the shock of the fall. He was doing so well walking down there. He guessed he had a farther time to recover than he thought.

“Oops, sorry about that,” the man apologized with a chuckle. “My name is Godric Gryffindor, by the way of introductions. This is Helga Hufflepuff.”

“We know all about you, dearie. Mr. Ambrosius told us about you. But enough about that. Let’s get you something to eat. Lord knows you could use it,” the woman told him as she carried him over to one of the nearby tables. As she sat him down, Edward looked around the room and took it all in. Never did he see a place as extravagant as that. The great hall was filled with four long tables designed to dine hundreds and hundreds of guests at a time. In the front was a high table where he imagined a King and his court would sit if this castle was not a school. The walls were decorated in gold plated brass candlesticks each with a lit candle dripping hot wax to the floor. In addition there were candles each floating around the room to provide additional light. The cascaded down from the high ceilings which when Edward looked up he couldn’t actually see the precipice. The stone simply melted away into a grey sky, snow falling down from the cloud cover and disappearing yards over their heads. His mouth opened up in shock as he watched the snowflakes fall. It was impossible. The two people beside him noticed him staring and looked up to where he was looking.

“Oh, dear, it is bewitched to look like the sky outside. It gets kind of boring being in a stone building all day. It is nice to get away from it for a while,” Hufflepuff sighed.

“Tell me, boy, you never saw any magic before? You truly do not know what it is?” Gryffindor asked him. Edward shook his head and the man sat back in amusement and stroked his beard in thought. “Fascinating. We get a lot of muggleborn students in here but even they have some premonition of magic. It is common knowledge after all.”

“Muggle-born?” Edward asked curiously.

“Ah! Yes! Sorry. I guess you wouldn’t know that either. Muggles are people born without magic ability. Magic is usually carried through blood lines but on occasion a magically skilled person will arise from a muggle family. You… well, I don’t know where you lie in that spectrum due to your peculiarities, but nonetheless you are a witch-“ Edward felt a jolt ride up his spine at the word. Witch. He remembered the horrible chants of the crowds as they threw more bundles of straw and sticks onto the pyre he was trapped in. He closed his eyes and bit his tongue to prevent himself from crying out. He had spent years denying he was a witch. He was tortured and beaten because he was presumed to be something he thought he was not. The more Edward thought of what had happened the more he felt the coils of fear suffocate him.

“Breathe, Edward,” Mustang ordered. “Don’t think about it. Just breathe. You are safe.” Edward nodded his head and closed his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. He forced a smile on his face even though he could still feel the flames beneath his feet.

“Yes,” he breathed heavily. “If you say I am.”

“Of course! You wouldn’t be here otherwise,” the man barked as Hufflepuff set down a plate of food in front of Edward. A warm blast of steam hit his face and he instantly melted into the sweet smell of pork and potatoes. He had not had a hot meal in two years. The only thing he had to eat from being released from the dungeons was potions and cold traveling rations. He felt his eyes start to water in joy.

“Paracelsus, now, to begin magic we must first get you a wand and teach you the basics. Dueling is my favorite past time but we should keep that for later when you are recovered and skilled with your wand.”

“Godric, you sound like you are already going to be tutoring the boy. We have not yet decided where he is to be housed!” Hufflepuff scolded him.

“Well of course he is going to be in my house. Look at him! Wait…. By god, why are you crying?” the man exclaimed as he caught sight of Edward bawling over his mashed potatoes. They tasted so sweet and rich. Edward was so overwhelmed by happiness that he could barely lift his fork to his mouth.

“Brother?”

“It’s so good,” Edward sobbed as he dropped his fork to his plate. He brought his hand up to his face and cried.

“Oh dear. Are you okay?” Hufflepuff asked quietly as she sat down beside Edward. He nodded his head and tried his best to calm down.

“I haven’t… It tastes wonderful,” he hiccupped with a smile. Hufflepuff began to rub small circles into the Edward’s back to soothe him.

“You’ve been through a lot haven’t you, my dear?” She did not get a response as Edward attempted to regain himself. He roughly rubbed his eyes with his only hand and let out a shuddering breath of air. “Godric, he is in such distress. We should find him a place to rest.”

“We have not yet determined where he would be housed. None of us can reach a decision-“

“Can’t we put him in a spare chambers?”

“I am sure Madam Yiggley will let him sleep back in the hospital ward for a little longer. With such few students on the premises she has gotten cranky without anyone to care for.”

“I-I’m fine,” Edward croaked. He glanced down at his plate and forced himself to look away as even the mere sight of the delicious food was too much for him. He didn’t think he could eat anymore without embarrassing himself farther. “I’m fine,” he repeated. “It’s… there’s just so much, so fast.”

“I know, but you will get used to it eventually. It’s about time something good’s happened to you,” Gryffindor said, his deep voice mellow as he meant what he had said. Edward smiled weakly. These two professors were completely different than Slytherin and Ravenclaw. More open armed. He felt some security in it after his incident with Slytherin the other evening.

“Paracelsus, is there something that you would like to see or do? We wouldn’t want to overwhelm you anymore than we have to. If there is somewhere you would like to go, hopefully we can determine your housing arrangements before this evening.“

Home. Edward thought, but shook it from his mind very quickly. That was literally worlds away. He would not be going there on simple request. But he knew something universal that he might be able to go to.

“A library?” he asked and the two professors looked at each other in surprise.

“He has been spending too much time with Rowena,” Gryffindor muttered just to get a slap on the shoulder by Hufflepuff.

“Very well, you can finish your plate up there. We will have a house elf come get it when you are done,” Hufflepuff told him. “You can follow me if you would like.” The two professors lead him down the hallway on the first floor to the library. It was slow going as Edward was not yet up to his full strength but he still denied all of Gryffindor’s offers to carry him. That only made the man more sure that he was like him and bragged about Edward’s determination. Hufflepuff argued with the man and their bickering carried them all the way to the library’s circulation desk. Edward gaped as he stared at the stacks and stacks of books that filled the huge hall. He didn’t even think that Central Library was that big. The book shelves towered higher than any ceiling he could imagine making him wonder how on earth anyone ever got a book from the top shelf. He saw the books magically sorting themselves as they flapped like little birds back to their nests on the shelves with a wave of a wand by the wizard at the circulation desk.

“Poswald!” Hufflepuff called out to the man who was sorting books even though there didn’t seem to be anyone there to take them out. “Could you find some beginner books of magic for Paracelsus. It might be good for him to get a head start on his studies. He is, after all, a semester behind.”

“What subject would you like?” the old man asked, shoving his half moon glasses higher onto the bridge of his nose. Hufflepuff opened her mouth to answer but Edward beat her to it.

“All of them.” The man arched his eyebrow but said nothing as he waved his wand and a hefty stack of books fluttered down from various shelves. They landed on a nearby exam table where Edward supposed he would be sitting.

“Enjoy,” the old man said sarcastically before returning to his work. Edward hobbled over to the table and settled down. Though books still soared over his head and candles still floated on their own device, Edward felt himself become comfortable where he sat. No matter where he was, a library was a library. It was the same.

“Paracelsus, we will leave you be here. If you need anything don’t be afraid to ask Poswald over there,” Hufflepuff told him as she set his plate of unfinished food infront of him. Edward nodded his head as he buried down into the stack of books before him. Hufflepuff and Gryffindor stepped away and Edward heard them shuffle towards the door, voices low.

“He’s a good kid,” Gryffindor muttered. “Doesn’t talk much.”

“He’s scared. He is still so confused on everything. It might be best if we let him be. It must be a shock to him.”

“Maybe, but he will have to learn to live here,” the man replied before the door closed shut behind them.

Edward didn’t really read too much of the books as he had a ‘Beginnings of Magic’ opened in front of him and spent more time basking in the quietness of the room. He had desperately wanted to get away from everything as he felt overwhelmed by the people, the smells, and the strange phenomena of magic. There in the library he basked in the quiet, with only the occasional flutter of a book finding its way towards the shelves to distract him. He listened quietly to the mutterings of the people inside him to calm his worries.

“Just take a few days to wind down,” Hawkeye told him. “Relax.” And he did. He read the book idly, page after page. However as the hours ticked on he found himself grow tired and heavy. He closed his eyes for a second but behind them he only saw fire and swords. He opened them back up just to return to the library his heart racing. He looked around himself, but the room was still the same, silent.

“Brother, it’s alright. It was just a short little dream.”

“Yeah,” Edward muttered, shaking his head to keep his eyes open. His body scolded him to go to sleep but he forced himself to read a few more pages in his book. Before long though, his eyelids began to droop once more and his head nodded. He heard the screams of the peasants as they rallied around him, tying him down to the horses that would carry him away to the castle. A hand rested on his shoulder and suddenly Edward jolted awake, the horrible colors of the images dispersing before him. When the lights faded he saw the stern face of Ravenclaw above him.

“Wake up,” she told him simply and said no more. Edward looked around him and remembered that he was in the library. It had only been seconds and he had forgotten that. He turned and looked beyond her to see the rest of the professors there. Slytherin stood amongst them, looking displeased. Edward felt a lump in his throat tighten as he saw the man. He wanted anything to get away from him.

 “I still don’t think we should do this now. He’s probably scared. I don’t think this will help,” Hufflepuff whispered timidly to the professors as if Edward was not sitting right there.

“It is tradition that students do this their first evening. There is nothing outstanding about it,” Ravenclaw retorted plainly.

“It is tradition that we select the students, not use an object to do it for us!” Slytherin’s voice growled.

“Obviously, we can not come to a conclusion on that topic. This is the only way to go!” Gryffindor’s booming voice exclaimed.

 “Why not let the boy decide?” the woman asked. “He doesn’t know much about magic as it is. Doing this might scare him even more!”

“What’s going on?” Edward asked them, stopping all of them from arguing. They looked at him guilty that they had been talking about him.

“Paracelsus, in order to get you situated at Hogwarts, we need you decide on a mentor for study,” Ravenclaw explained. “Each one of us, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, and myself, select students that we would like to guide through their academic careers. We house them and teach them to be brought up in the ideals that we hold close.” As she said this, Edward now realized that this must have been what Slytherin was trying to persuade him for. The man wanted to tutor him, or in the very least, have control over his stay there. Edward didn’t know many of the other founders there, he only truly spent time with Ravenclaw on his journey from the King’s Castle to Hogwarts. It made him afraid that the others had similar intentions for him.

“Paracelsus, you do not have to decide on this matter, and neither shall we. We have designed a new way of sorting our students to take prejudice out of it,” Ravenclaw said as she noticed that he was lost in thought. Worry was probably evident on his face. As she said this, Gryffindor whipped out a leather wizarding cap.

“I present the sorting hat!” the man said with too much pride for something so ordinary looking. There was nothing outstanding about it. The leather was not of high quality nor was it shabby and patched over. It was worn around the brim from obvious daily use but otherwise was new and with no important features to it. Edward stared at it confused. The hat, however, seemed to notice this.

“I’m not just a hat! Dear boy! I have the power to peer into your innermost desires, skills, and wants. I will sort you where you belong! Just put me on your head.” Edward yelped as the seam of the hat broke open and started to speak. The hat was alive! And seemingly enjoying it. The hat sat on Gryffindor’s hands, the leather twisted into a sort of prideful smile. Edward found himself taking many steps away from the thing as his mind was trying to process its existence.

“It’s a magic hat!” Alphonse exclaimed, not hiding his excitement. Edward was less than enthused.

“No, no, no. This is all wrong,” Edward whined.

“Edward, you are seemingly in another dimension. Not everything is going to be the same,” Hohenheim reminded him. “Take it in strides. You need to learn magic to stay in good hands. You might as well get used to it.”

“But… this is absurd. This shouldn’t be real.”

 “Brother, it might be similar to alchemy. There has to be something that causes it. Something behind it. We thought alchemy was like magic when we were younger. Maybe it is really magic that is like alchemy.” Edward frowned as he stared at the hat which was becoming more impatient with him. There had to be some basis beneath it. Some etiquette to the laws of nature. Ravenclaw had scolded him previously on saying magic was impossible. Maybe it was just something that he had to learn to believe in.

Edward regained what little of himself he could with the help of his brother and returned back to where Gryffindor was holding the hat. The professors looked very worried and were discussing his shock quietly amongst themselves. Hufflepuff was adamant that they postpone the decision till a later date. Her argument however was cut short when Edward picked up the hat. He flipped it around in his hand and examined the stitching and the folds. There had to be some evidence that magic was there. But alas he was holding a perfectly normal wizarding hat. The only magic to be observed was when the hat wanted to talk. It had quite a few words to say about being spun around and examined. When the hat scolded him Edward nearly dropped it in shock but steeled himself against it. He was not going to let it get the better of him.

“Put me on or put me down! I am not a toy!” the hat argued.

“What are you?” Edward interrogated it.

“A hat!”

“Why do you talk?”

“Because of us, Paracelsus,” Gryffindor explained to him as he watched him examine the hat. “We had enchanted it to help us. We each tasked it with the job to sort you into the correct houses based on traits that we adore. After enchanting it, it will do just that.”

“I know you are confused, but you will learn more on the foundations of magic when you start school. Everything you see here has answers, you just need time to learn them,” Hufflepuff comforted.

“First things first, the sorting. Go ahead, put it on.” Edward hesitated as he looked down at the hat. The leather thing smiled back at him, eager to have its first victim. The professors waited for him to put it on his head.

“Go ahead. It will be fine,” Mustang said. Edward sighed and closed his eyes tight, bracing himself before he placed the hat on his head. The instant it touched his head the hat let out an enthused gasp, like it had just discovered a scientific oddity.

“Wonderful! This is definitely going to be a tough case!” the hat cooed in excitement. “Clever boy! Kind, smart, cunning, and surely brave. You are going to be a tough one to piece out. The chatter you’re your friends definitely isn’t helping.”

“Sorry,” Alphonse said even though he knew that no one but Edward and the people inside the stone could hear him.

“No problem at all. Very well mannered,” the hat responded to most of their surprise.

“You can hear them?” Edward asked.

“Of course. I am enchanted to see thoughts and desires. Everyone of them has those and therefore I can read them. However, it is making it a bit difficult to read yours. So please if you will, keep it down.” The people in the stone quickly tried their best to calm down. Edward heard the gentle roar which was always in his ears become silent. The hat settled on his head and began to concentrate once more.

 “Ah! I see that you want to return home. So strong for carrying the weight of your country on your shoulders. Surely Gryffindor or Hufflepuff will help you bear it through. Slytherin though could ensure you have your goals met, no matter the cost. That would be truly helpful with such a task like this.” Edward felt a latch in his stomach drop as the hat continued to talk about Slytherin. He couldn’t stand imagining being with that man. He killed him! The hat seemed to sense the fear that settled within him and looked harder through his confliction.

“It seems that you have had trouble before, though not quite like this, your first answer was the library. Always a good place to find answers if you are in for putting in some leg work on research. Do you propose your answer might be found here?” Edward nodded his head, more in hopes of answering the hat’s question to get it off him faster than to be truthful. “Hmm very well. Professor Rowena Ravenclaw!” the hat announced to the room. “I present this young lad to you.”

Though the hat was very fond of its decision, being the first one it ever made, no one in the room looked pleased.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 17

The Wandmaker

The clock chimed loudly in his room causing him to look up from where he was fully engaged in his story. It was two in the morning, definitely not a time that many people wished to be up for. He had been sucked into telling his story he had lost track of time. He lowered his hands from where they were spinning their tale and leaned back tiredly into the couch.

“Well, I guess that’s enough,” Edward muttered as he rubbed the exhaustion out of his jaw. Neither Minerva nor Harry cared to mask their disappointment.

“But what happened next? There is so much-“ Harry started to argue but a yawn cut him off. Edward smirked tiredly as he watched him.

“I told you it was a long story. You can’t tell a thousand years’ worth of things in one evening. To sum it up, it took a while for the professors to accept I was in Ravenclaw. Even Professor Ravenclaw had trouble adjusting. However, I ended up learning a lot over the years from all of them, even Slytherin. The tensions between the muggle and wizarding worlds grew to new heights as Morganna, you probably learned about her in history of magic, aligned herself and a small following of wizards with a rivaling kingdom and forced King Arthur to go to war. The professors tried to protect me as long as they could but Professor Slytherin sold me back to Arthur to fight in the crusades. It was…. Well that was not a story I think you should visualize,” Edward stumbled as he remembered the gallons of blood he spilt alone just fighting for his life. He could still hear the clashing of metal and the horrible screams of the war horses. He closed his eyes and took a small breath. “Well Merlin defeated Morganna at the cost of his life in Carmarthen then Arthur was assassinated post war, leaving me free to do go about my business. The wizarding world disappeared from the eyes of the muggles as did I. I traveled, went to many different schools, earned 25 college degrees, met Sir de Mimsy-Porpington, and became a hermit until Nicolas Flamel found me and begged me to teach him. The rest of the story is history-“

“The entire story is history, brother,” Alphonse said lightly making Edward laugh at his attempt at humor.

“But… Professor-“

“Potter, let him be. It is a long story and this has been more than he wanted to share to begin with. We should let him rest,” Minerva reminded the boy calmly but froze as she remembered exactly who she was talking to. “And you should be getting to bed! Sneaking out all night and fighting! You better have a good nights rest for your detention tomorrow! Get back to your dormitory Potter!” she screeched and the kid stumbled up, grabbing his wand and his cloak as he fled the chamber room. The fear in his eyes clear as day. Minerva muttered something to herself about making him clean the armory as she straightened out her robes. Edward chuckled lightly though his exhaustion nearly defeated his attempt. Minerva glanced down at him, her anger with Potter dissipating. She took out her wand from her robes and waved it in the air quickly. Alphonse jolted up from his seat to stop her, afraid that she was going to harm Edward but froze as she chanted a word they have been waiting too long to hear.

“Vacatio” she whispered and touched both Edward and Alphonse with the tip of her wand. It was like a heavy chain was lifted off his shoulders and Edward sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” he breathed, finally free from his imprisonment. He looked down at his hands as if he expected to see loosened shackles there. Of course, there was nothing.

“Mr. Elric, I feel like you are far too acquainted with being restrained,” Minerva said with a heavy voice. She looked tired after hearing his story, but Edward could hear the level of sympathy to her. She was upset for what had happened to him, past and present. Feeling that much emotion would tire anyone.

“Minerva, really, thank you,” Edward struggled to elaborate. “I know it must have been hard for you to do this.”

“I might be friends with Albus and Severus, but that doesn’t mean that I am unwilling to put them in their place every now and then, especially for another professor,” Minerva said tiredly. Edward felt a smile spread over him. He had thought that everyone was just tearing him apart, but now it really looked like Minerva considered him a friend, or at least someone worth sticking out for. A warm feeling spread inside of him and he felt tears come to his eyes. He wiped them furiously away. He did enough of that this evening. With a deep breath, he held his emotions at bay and nodded gratefully at her. Seeming to know that it was about time to go, Minerva picked up her things and made her way over to the door. She opened the portrait but before stepping out turned back to look at where Edward was trying to compose himself.

“Edward, I know you will probably be leaving in the morning, but do consider coming back to teach. I do still believe that something good might come of you staying here, even if it is just a few acquaintances. I also don’t imagine anyone of us would be able to put Lockhart in his place as well as you do,” she said hoping to make his leave more similar to one of parting friends than that of betrayal and corruption. It seemed she still had some faith in Dumbledore, and Edward didn’t expect any differently.

“I will think about it,” Edward replied quietly. “See you at breakfast.” Minerva brightened a little that he wasn’t going to be leaving in the middle of the night and left on that note. Edward watched the portrait door close and collapsed back down onto the couch he was resting on. He massaged his face slowly in his hands, trying to sort through everything that happened and then everything that he would have to do. He didn’t know where he stood in the mess of things, but he had a feeling he would see it through. He felt the couch dip beside him and peeked between his fingers to see his brother waiting patiently beside him.

“What are you planning on doing?” he asked. Edward groaned as he deeply massaged his face one more time before drastically dropping his hands down to his lap. He only wished he knew the answer to that. He dropped his head and stared at the coffee table where the rest of the wizards wands were. There were four left, all of which he didn’t want a part of.

“First things first,” he muttered. “I am going to have to return these.”

……….

The morning came only a few hours later and Edward quickly got dressed to head out. He wore his travelling cape and held only one small bag he had alchemically make shifted from his old clothes. It held only a few photographs, one journal, and of course, the iron mask. Edward felt the overwhelming need to chuck the thing into the river but refrained. If he did, it would have undoubtedly been recovered by the headmaster and used again. He needed to take it away so that they couldn’t attempt to use it. Unfortunately, the only way to do that was to take it with him.

Edward shuffled down the stairs with the heavy steps of his brother trailing behind him. He felt the time to pull him back was nearing, but he wanted his company for when they left the castle. When he reached the Entrance Hall there was a large gathering of students gathered in the walk way, whispering and gossiping to each other. The fight last night was loud, and the entire castle must have heard it. The students were getting the latest scoop on what happened, whether their stories be true or tall tales. The instant they saw him come they quieted down and moved away. It seemed that they still thought he was the monster who wrote the bloody message. Edward rolled his eyes and pushed his way through the crowd. They would have made him self-conscious of his stay there, but he knew he wasn’t staying that long to care.

Edward skipped right towards the large ornate doors of the castle. He felt the nice fall breeze flow through the doorway and inhaled deeply. It was such a nice feeling, he had almost forgotten what it was like. Edward only hesitated once to pray and step through the doorway, as he was afraid that the counterspell that Minerva gave him didn’t work. However, as he stuck his hand through, there was nothing to stop him. It passed right through the doorway and into the bright morning sunshine. A smile spread across his face as an overwhelming feeling of relief flowed through him. He really was free.

“Master Elric,” he heard the horribly familiar voice call out to him. The joy he had felt was immediately wiped from his face as he turned to look over his shoulder and saw the headmaster standing there, the other heads of houses behind him. The professors were standing smaller than usual, their normal bravado having left with their wands. Edward pulled his hand back in and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at the teachers. They all looked like children who were being scolded. Seeing that he got his attention, Dumbledore walked up to where Edward was. Alphonse made a move to stand in between them, but Edward stuck his hand out to stop him.

“Paracelsus,” the man repeated, “I know you must want to leave but I have to convince you to-“ The man did not finish his sentence before Edward wound his left arm back and punched him straight in the face. The old man’s head whipped back and he staggered back to the floor, a roar of gasps and cries escaping the crowd of students. Blood gushed out of the old man’s face where his nose broke from the hit. Edward shook his hand out, relishing in the satisfying feeling of punching the old man. Alphonse did not move to stop him, nor to apologize for his actions. They were done.

“Don’t try and act civil with me, Albus!” Edward yelled at the wizard. “You had your chance to do that before you trapped me here! I told you that I am done with your childish games. I am free now and am leaving. It is in your best interest if you do not follow me or else you might have to worry about a few more broken bones than your nose.”

“Edward-“

“Don’t say anything, Severus,” Edward hissed, stopping the man in his tracks from where he was trying to approach him. The man looked ashamed but hid it too well, probably from years of practice. Edward had once thought that they could be friends. They had similar minds and because of that they were similarly stubborn. However, they chose different sides and now a sea separated them, the other shore too far to see. Edward looked at the other two professors, they were in a similar position. Edward reached into his pocket and pulled out the bunch of wands he was hiding there. He casted them down to the floor and they hit the ground, a hollow tinkling sound thundered across the silent hall. The wizards flinched but none moved to pick them up.

“Take your wands and your magic. Lord knows you value that over the people around you.” Seeing as none of the professors had anything to add, Edward knew that the argument was done, he was going. Edward turned around with a whirl and stepped through the doorway of the castle. The gentle breeze hit him in the face and he inhaled deeply. It felt like he was breathing for the first time. He took a few steps down the path, looking behind him only once to see the professors standing there in the doorway.

“If I come back to Hogwarts it will be on my own doing and in my own time. Not because of some divinations and prophecies,” he scolded lightly. Just as he was going to turn away, he heard a call from the crowd of people gathered in the doorway. Minerva pushed her way through the growing crowd of students.

“Edward!” she called out to him and ran down the steps to where he was standing. She was carrying something long and shiney in her hands. It took only a second for him to realize that it was his old sword. His eyes widened in shock as she handed it over to him. “You told me you were not leaving till breakfast. Now you have an old woman like me running a marathon to catch you!” she scolded him haughtily. “I believe this is yours.”

Edward took the handle, the weight of the sword far too familiar in his hands. He looked upon the ruby encrusted blade at the delicate writing. He hadn’t gazed upon the sword since the day he buried it over 600 years ago. It was exactly as he remembered it when Godric had given it to him. It was the embodiment of bravery, something that Edward felt he was lacking more and more of every day.

He didn’t even know that it had returned back to Hogwarts, though he should have expected it. That bastard was still stealing his stuff. He glared over Minerva’s shoulder at the headmaster. The man stood unwavering though a glimmer of surprise was in his eyes. Albus was surprised that Minerva would steal it back from him. Edward was surprised as well. He knew that Minerva was still struggling with her decisions the previous evening, but her will to do what she thought was right was strong.

“Bravery and loyalty, Paracelsus, that is what I stand for,” he remembered Godric saying to him when he received the sword. “It isn’t the bravery on the battle field or the loyalty to a power that counts. It is the loyalty to a belief and the strength to stand up for it that is the true weight of a man. However, having a sword at your side never hurts.” He glanced down at the sword once more. There was a reason why everyone was sorted into their respective houses. Edward straightened himself out and pushed the sword back towards Minerva.

“Take it. I think it is about time that this was returned to the house of Gryffindor. It has been with a crusty old Ravenclaw long enough,” Edward said. The woman looked absolutely shocked as the weight of the sword rested in her hands. She opened her mouth to retort as if the mere thought of giving her such a piece was blasphemous but no words came out.

“I don’t know if I will be back, but wizards are nosy. I don’t think the wizarding world is done with me yet,” Edward reassured her.

“How will we know when to expect your return? I am sure the students would want to have a warning before you barge in again,” Minerva said. Edward shrugged, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“I guess you will just have to wait to find out. Say goodbye to Nick for me. Tell Helena to jump into the whomping willow.”

“Brother!” Alphonse gasped slapping him on his shoulder.

“Ouch! Al! I am joking!.... kind of,” he growled. “Seriously take care.” Minerva said her good byes and Edward did likewise. He gave one more wave to Minerva and a rather obscene sign to Albus before turning to begin his walk down the pathway. He had a long ways ahead of him to get to where he was going. He needed to make the most of it.

“Brother, where are we going to go now?” Alphonse asked him, his armor clanking beside him. Edward closed his eyes and stretched his arms behind him, basking in the warm sun. He had traveled so long without the familiar sound of his brother walking beside him. It was calming to know that he was there once more.

“I think I am about due a stop in Carmarthen. I think its about time for me to pick up magic again.”

……………..

Edward took the train down from Scotland to Wales, returning Alphonse back to the stone when they started to reach muggle populated areas. Though the armor figures were strange to wizards, they would have scared any muggle who fell upon them. The trip took a few hours and the farther Edward drew from Hogwarts the more settled he felt. Back on the road and back to routine. He had chased after Flamel for 600 years and now he was back to travelling, luckily with more company. The people in the stone discussed and retold the story of Edward punching the headmaster. It seemed that all of them were waiting for that bomb to go off. It finally did and they enjoyed it.

“That little brat deserved it. I would have used your automail fist though, Fullmetal,” Roy said, the smile very apparent in his voice. Edward smirked as he stepped off the train.

“When I see him again I will be sure to correct my mistake.”

“Brother, are you sure you will be able to find your wand? It has been a while since you have been here. Carmarthen probably changed,” Alphonse said with concern. It had been a few hundred years since Edward had given up magic. He was so adamant at the time to never go back he did everything but snap his wand in two. He had buried his wand beneath an old oak tree, or rather Merlin’s grave.

People liked to imagine the fight between Merlin and Morganna in the crusades as the largest and most infamous battle in both wizarding history and muggle legend. Morganna casted a powerful curse on Merlin, who was a second too late to deflect it. The result had killed him and turned his corpse into a mangled oak tree. That tree had stood on the wooded battlefield for centuries, unmarked, but deeply remembered by wizards, muggles, and Edward. He had visited the oak in secret since the crusades, the last time being 700 years ago after the death of Sir Porpington when he had discarded his wand. Edward thought it was about time to visit him again.

Edward snatched a map of the town from a nearby brochure stand and unfurled it. Alphonse was right that Carmarthen had changed since the hundreds of years he had been there. However, the town’s layout resembled a ghost of the town he remembered. He should be able to find his way though it was best if he did not get lost. He wound his way through the maze of streets until he got to the little corner of Oak Lane and Priory Street. However, it was nothing how he remembered it. Instead of being the edge of a small wood, the entire place was paved over with insignificant looking houses and a church. In the distance he could see fields of farm land where sheep roamed their pastures. No trees in sight. Edward let out an exasperated cry and threw his map to the ground angrily.

“Where in god’s name did he go!” he growled angrily. “He was supposed to be right here!”

“Brother, Wales is a primarily muggle town. They probably levelled the forest not knowing about Merlin’s tree.”

“But they knew! Muggles knew! It’s in their legends and stories! Arthur had it marked off!” Edward exclaimed.

“They probably didn’t care anymore about some fairytale.” Edward cursed and spat, kicking the map he threw in rage. This is what he got for giving up magic.

“It’s my life! It’s not a fairytale! He was my friend!” he shouted angrily, some passing muggles turning their heads to stare as he screamed at nothing. Roy scolded him to calm down to prevent raising suspicion. Edward growled as he dropped down and sat on the curb with his bag, holding his head in frustration. He did not know whether to be upset and mourn the loss of his friend or to be frustrated with his current predicament of not having a wand. Edward sat there for a few minutes trying to calm himself down. He felt like he had lost his friend all over again.

As he was about to try and address his situation, there was a loud pop from an alley beside him. Edward jolted to his feet and looked around on high alert. He didn’t think that anyone from Hogwarts would have been dumb enough to follow him. However, other people he knew might be desperate enough to try. As Edward braced himself for a fight, footsteps shuffled to the mouth of the alleyway to reveal a wrinkly old man. He was short, years of age weighing on his spine, but his eyes sparkled with the intelligence and curiosity of youth.  

“My father, my father’s father, and several generations before that have waited to find you here. I was wondering if I would see the day,” the man said with a smile as he hobbled towards him. Edward took a step away from the man, but didn’t run away as he approached him.

“Who are you?” Edward asked cautiously. He was sure he never met this man in his life though it was apparent the man knew him.

“Garrick Ollivander. Forty generations ago you would have met my ancestor Gwenoviere Ollivander. She made your wand! Though it was her husband George who sold it to you,” the man said as if he were there to have witnessed the event. Edward’s eyes widened as he remembered the day he levelled Diagon Alley. Professor Ravenclaw had taken him out shortly after being sorted to gather supplies and a wand. It had taken him ages to find a wand that wouldn’t explode on him. The Ollivanders were very helpful and seemed more than eager to help a rather tricky customer. This being their great-etcetera-grandson, was probably over excited to help again.

“But… how did you know I was here?” Edward asked confused. The man looked at him as he seemed to not understand why he was perplexed by his appearance. Then suddenly a light turned on in his head as if he were remembering something.

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” he breathed. “I apologize. Eleven and three quarters inch white pine with threstral hair, whippy.” From beneath his robes, the man procured a slender box which within Edward presumed his wand resided. He knew the measurements of his wand like the back of his hand. It was the only one of its type. Edward guarded himself as the man held it. How did he know where it was? How did he get it?

“What do you want?” Edward interrogated. There was no way the man was returning his wand out of the goodness of his heart. However, the man stood him wrong.

“It is my family’s job to supply wizards with wands. In this case I do the same. My ancestors were drawn towards your wand and found it beneath Merlin’s tree. They decided to hold onto it knowing that you would return one day. Now you have! So I give this back to you. Let me say it’s a very peculiar wand. Threstral hair is extremely powerful and yet it is matched with a horribly yielding wood. I have been examining this wand my entire life trying to contemplate why my ancestors would have made this asynchronous monstrosity but I still could not have figured out why.”

“I was extremely powerful, as you could have imagined. I needed a powerful wand but not one that would cast more powerful spells. Just one to absorb my own magic and distribute it properly. Gwenoviere explained that to me, though it took me years to actually understand it,” Edward answered him.

“Threstral hair is legend to be wielded by a master of death. I suppose that legend started with you,” the man replied. He seemed satisfied to have a long question answered. He delicately handed Edward the wand box. Edward opened it to see his old wand, the delicate craftmanship crumpled and worn down, the ends of the threstral hair sticking out the top of it. Years have not been kind to it. He dared not pick it up in fear that the wand’s magical balance deteriorated with it.

“Unfortunately, it has been centuries and even with the most meticulous maintenance we have done to it, the wood and the core are out of use. It tis a shame when a wand falls to disrepair,” Garrick said. Edward cursed under his breath as he closed the box up once more.

“I thank you for returning this to me but I am still in need of a wand. I don’t even know where to get one this day and age.”

“If I may, I am a wandmaker, just like Gwenoviere was back in your day. Surely, I can make a new one for you?” the man asked, eagerness overwhelming him. Edward raised his eyebrow and looked him over. The man did not appear to be of ill intent. He had returned his wand to him of no charge. It appeared to him that the man was simply obsessed with wands and wandmaking. He was helping him out of the pure need of a new project.

“Very well, but I am probably going to be the hardest wand you ever had to make.”

“Wonderful!” the man exclaimed as he grabbed Edward by the hand. He didn’t have time to move before the man whipped his wand in the air. There was a loud bang and Edward felt a pull behind his nasals. Before he knew it they were gone and Carmarthen was left undisturbed.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 18

Diagon Alley

Similar to Carmarthen, Diagon Alley was nothing how Edward remembered it. New shops scattered the roads. There was a window filled with odd trinkets that whizzed, banged, and exploded for fun, another that held candies which turned your head into a balloon, and several more with knickknacks and souvenirs that Edward could not name. He had been to Diagon Alley when it was four shops and a bank. The bare essentials of food, clothes, wands, and books. That was all anyone had ever needed.

One thing remained the same throughout the years. Ollivanders stood where it had always been with the same sign and window frame. It had been repeatedly painted over and the surrounding streets had been built around it, but it was still the same. Edward could see himself walking in there a millenia ago to receive his first wand. Garrick whipped his wand and unlocked the door before waddling inside.

The inside was similar. Wooden counters were illuminated in a golden glow of lamp light. They were completely covered in boxes and boxes of wands, each labeled with a uniquely different wand. Edward picked up a box, nine inches holly unicorn hair.

“It might be best if we did this outside,” Edward said as he set the box down. He looked up but Garrick was already gone, shuffling through the aisles of shelves to find more wands.

“I have set up precautions after a few tricky cases came through my shop,” the man answered as he hobbled back with a measuring tape in his hand. He threw it in the air and it buzzed through the room, measuring Edward’s arm, height, and distance between nostrils. Edward thought it was strange his first time. He still held true to that thought.

“Are you sure? Diagon Alley is more populated than before.”

“Yes. However, I am going to make you a new wand, not a premade one. I just need to do some tests.”

“Tests?” Edward asked, never hearing that before.

“Back in your day, you brought in materials for a wandmaker to use for your wand. I like to say that the wand chooses the wizard. As you are difficult to determine, I will have to make a new one, but we need to decide on materials-“

“Why not just remake my old one?”

“People change over time. As such, wands are made to evolve. However, it takes time. You have been alive for so long, I am afraid that isn’t an option,” he answered. Garrick disappeared back into the line of shelves and reappeared with a few boxes. He set them down on the counter and withdrew a mahogany wand. He grabbed Edward’s hand and shoved it into his grip. Edward stiffened, afraid to move incase it exploded right in his hand.

“Don’t be afraid it is only wood, no wand core. Give it a swish.’ Edward looked at the false wand, lifted it to give a swish. When he brought it down it was replaced with another.

“Cypress twelve inches.” It took hours for them to even decide on a select piece of wood. They went all the way from hard woods through soft woods, until the man seemed satisfied with a yew.

“Ah, sturdy, durable yet flexible. Known for pairing with people who have long lives. I should have thought of this sooner when dealing with you! However, a matching core might be tricky. Hmmmm…..” he muttered to himself as he immediately picked up all of his boxes and vanished once more. Edward looked down at his mock wand, curious as to what the man saw in it.

“You had threstral before, extremely powerful. Few wands are made from that. Very few. Let’s try this instead. Unicorn hair.” Garrick handed him a delicately cut piece of unicorn hair. The instant Edward’s fingers touched it, the hair shot across the room like a rocket, smashing into one of the shelves and breaking several wand boxes.

“Oh dear,” the man muttered. He hobbled over to the desk picked up a quill and started to write a few calculations down. He hummed to himself as he made plans. He sketched for a few minutes before nodding his head.

“Good, good, good.” He looked up and appeared very surprised that he was still there. “Oh, see you Monday, Paracelsus.”

“Monday?” Edward gawked as Garrick started to push him out of the shop. “But what’s it made of, why so long?” There was no answer as the door closed behind him and locked. The open sign flipped around and Ollivanders was closed. Edward banged angrily on the door but it did not open. It seemed that with the newest project, Ollivander was going to devote all of his time to doing it. Edward let out an exasperated cry. He thought he had solved one problem but he was still down a wand and dealing with a looney wandmaker.

“What am I going to do now,” Edward whined, “Monday is three days away. I don’t have a place to sleep, I can’t magic myself anywhere-“

“Brother, you have money at the bank. Tons of it. Retrieve it. You are going to have to pay Mr. Ollivander anyways.” Edward took his brother’s advice to stop complaining and did just that. Gringotts was exactly the same. In his mind Goblins were always over the top and far too old fashioned for his taste. They had built this marble monstrosity of a bank back when the rest of the town was still sticks and straw. Edward hoped that they still had his account numbers. He walked up to the teller and cleared his throat for the goblin’s attention.

“Yesssss?” the creature hissed. Edward could never tell if they were displeased or they simply talked like that.

“Withdrawal from vault 1, please.” The entire bank went silent. The quills stopped scratching, the calculators stopped clacking, the money stopped changing. Edward felt all eyes on him.

“And who might you be?” Edward glared back at the goblin. The worse thing you could do was steal from a goblin. However, he was very offended that they thought he was trying.

“Paracelsus, the Eastern fucking Sage, you dot. Who else would be asking for my account? The bloody pope?”

“Do you have the key?”

“Of course I have the fucking key! What type of security is this? Goblins back in my day would have already opened the goddamn gates to release the hounds. I swear. I keep my money here for a millenia and now I am considering switching banks! I heard the elves down in France had a real good cash back system on their credits.” The goblin pales at the simple idea of losing a customer and therefore their money. With the amount that Edward had built up over the years due to various jobs, mislead direct deposits, and compounding interest rates, he was definitely the last customer they wanted to lose. When dealing with goblins that go around insulting people all day, it was best to act insulted to ensure they didn’t take the liberty to walk all over you. The goblin quickly hopped off its overly tall chair and waddled around the corner of the teller’s desk.

“Follow me.” Edward made a scoffing noise as if he was overly offended at their rude service. It was simply how he did business. A roar of quiet hissing whispers picked up around the bank from goblins and humans alike. Edward did his best to ignore it though he felt annoyed that he had to uncover his own notoriety like that. The goblin lead him into the cavern where the millions of vaults laid. Instead of taking the car down an overwhelming number of levels, they stopped at the first door.

“Vault one.” Edward walked over to the door. The large complex alchemic circle that was carved into the stone was faded and worn but still in good repair. He examined it for a few seconds to make sure none of the characters had eroded. It wouldn’t have been good to accidentally blow the place up. He clapped his hands purely out of habit and slapped them to the door. It immediately melted away. Whatever doubt that the goblin had of his identity melted along with it. That door hadn’t been opened in 700 years. It seemed that the goblins might have wanted to keep it that way.

 Edward would have normally walked inside to collect a modest amount of coin however, it seemed that he was incapable of doing that for the sole reason that the entire room was completely stacked to the top with galleons, sickles, and the occasional rare jewel. Somewhere buried within the depths of his vault was the battered and salvaged King Arthur’s crown that he had acquired one bloody night after the crusades. At that time it was the only money he had to his name. After all, they didn’t very much give slaves a livable wage. However, the years of working countless jobs and receiving interest rates and senior living dues had built up. He was met with a completely impassable wall of gold.

“Well, this is a problem,” he muttered. He clapped his hands and alchemically shift a few cubic feet galleons down into perfectly weighed gold blocks. He handed a few to the goblin behind him who looked like he was going to buckle beneath the weight.

“I want to transfer several of these bars into whichever vaults contain the least wealth. You might need a cart.”

“You are giving it away?” the goblin growled like it was blasphemy. To them it probably was. Goblins were very possessive of money and wealth. They had very strict lines between what was theirs and what was everyone else’s. Edward shrugged.

“Spring cleaning. It isn’t like I am going to be using it. I got a job.” The goblin grumbled something to himself before dragging what gold bars he could away. Edward cleared out his inventory of gold until he could at least see the floor. When he imagined it to be enough, he stooped down with his own small change pouch and piled it full of galleons, sickles, and a few knuts.

“You could have bought a castle with all of this money,” Roy said as Edward waited for the Goblins to remove the excess gold bricks and close up the vault.

“Do you think Hogwarts is for sale?” Edward joked lightly when the door finally closed behind him.

“Are you planning on going back? I wouldn’t imagine that you would need a wand if you weren’t.” Edward frowned. To say his return to Hogwarts was unpleasant was an understatement. He would be happy if he never had to see the place again. However, something was calling him back there. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew at some point in time he would see himself in the entrance hall again. For what reason, he couldn’t explain.

He simply shrugged and left it at that.

With the large lump of money in his purse, Edward spent the rest of the day strolling through the shops in Diagon Alley. They had changed, probably hundreds of times, over the last millenia and Edward was always one to explore. He tasted a couple sweets in the local creamery, he purchased some bolts of fabric from the local seamstress, and of course went to the book shop to keep himself updated on the newest authors and publications. If someone were to browse his bookshelf in his house, they would be astounded by the many first edition books he held. If he decided to ever sell them he would earn millions. But, as evidence from his trip to Gringotts, that was the last thing on his mind. He purchased a modern book on theories of time travel to keep himself occupied.

He slowly made his way back down the street with his nose in the first few pages of the large text when he heard an excited gasp from his brother.

“Edward! Look!” Edward turned his head towards the shop he was passing just to come face to face with a large black cat. It hissed at him and he jumped back several feet to get a clear distance from the monster. However, as he got a better look at his surroundings, he realized he was in no real danger. He was standing outside the Magical Menagerie where cages upon cages of magical animals were held on display for the willing eye, the black cat included. Toads, cats, pixies, and owls, scattered the front of the store.

“Please, brother! Please, please, please, please-“

“No!” Edward scolded Alphonse.

“But they look so lonely. And now that you are not travelling all of the time-“

“Al, what will happen to the poor thing if we do manage to find our way home? What happens if I do need to travel? I can’t take care of a cat. I can barely take care of myself!” Edward argued. He had held this discussion many times over the years. He would not get an animal he couldn’t care for.

“What about an owl?” Roy suggested.

“What about an owl?”

“Well, they are easier to take care of, can hunt their own food need be, and, most importantly, will let you send mail? You can’t rely on other people’s owls forever.”

“I made it so far.”

“Take our advice and make life a little easier for yourself. Who knows, an owl might keep you better company.” Edward hesitated as he stared at the vast array of animals in front of him. It was a struggle having to borrow a school owl all the time. Now that he was going to be moving around a lot more having his own to send letters would come in handy. With a huff of defeat, he entered the shop.

The door opened with a jingle, the ringing of the bell alerting the shop keeper to his arrival. However, it seemed that whoever it was did not care and Edward spent his time looking around. There was a vast array of different owls from the Russian taiga down to the storming deserts of Africa. Some of them squawked at him angrily, others hooted cheerfully as he passed by. Al pointed every single one out to him and wanted him to get it. Edward rolled his eyes and continued his search. The larger more presenting birds were stuffed towards the front of the room while the more ruffled or weaker birds were kept towards the back. Edward poked his head into a few more cages before the store owner decided to make himself known.

“Buying an owl?” the man growled. He did not seem like the type of person to have pets. That must have been why he was selling them.

“Yeah,” Edward replied. “I am kind of lost though. I haven’t had one in years.”

“Where do you live? You gotta get one that’s good for the weather. You can’t have an owl freezing up in the winter here. Snowy’s and greys are good here.”

“Uh, I’m looking for something a bit more manageable in size.”

“Don’t have anyone to send Christmas presents to then? Small owls usually can’t handle the weight.”

“No. I haven’t celebrated the Feast of Nativity in ages.”

“Ah, you do Hanukkah then. Me too. That definitely means you are going to need a strong and fast bird to get through all eight days. Hawkowls are good-“

“No. ah, I’m not religious. I just need an owl incase the occasional letter needs mailed. Nothing big,” Edward explained sheepishly. “My last owl was a Rodriguez owl but as I heard I can’t get those anymore.” The man’s opened his mouth to reply smartly to the conversation but it seemed whatever he originally wanted to say was stuck in his throat.

“But… But that’s been extinct for…. Two hundred years!”

“Yes. So obviously I would need a different owl.”

“You can’t be… there is no way…. Stop pulling my leg. Tell me what you really are here for!”

“An owl? Like I said?” Edward explained, very taken back by the man’s accusations.

“You’re one of those pet detective people. Making sure I don’t have any illegal animals here! Well I’m clean I tell you! All my animals are legally bought and sold! Now get out of my store! Scram! I am not selling you anything!” Edward was quickly and roughly shoved out of the menagerie by the frantic shopkeeper. He tumbled to the cold cobblestones of the street as the door was slammed shut behind him. He could hear whispers from the pedestrians around the shop as they walked by and stared at him. Edward groaned as he sat up and rubbed his sore elbows in defeat.

“Just my luck,” he grumbled.

“It’s alright. We can always find something else.” Edward sighed hearing the disappointment in his brother’s voice. It was obvious he really wanted an owl. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem that they would be getting one there. Edward pushed himself off of the ground and dusted himself off. However, when he looked up he was staring straight down the length of a wand.

“Argh! What is it now!” Edward growled as he smacked the thing out of his face. He got a better look at the owner when the man took a couple more steps away from him so that he couldn’t deter his wand again. The man was smartly dressed for a poor budget. His woolen robes were patched in several places and dull of color. He looked worn. The only thing bright about him was the mess of red hair on top of his head. The man pulled out a badge from his pocket and showed it to him. Edward read the emblem from the Ministry of Magic.

“I am Arthur Weasley from the Miss use of Muggle Artifacts Department. You are in the possession of an unregistered dark and powerful artifact. I am going to need you to come with me,” the man said, folding up his badge and putting it back into his wallet.

“The Ministry eh? I remember when you guys started. Hiding the wizarding world was a good decision though probably was my fault to begin with. Has it changed a lot since the fourteenth century?” Edward asked as he reminisced the past. The wizarding community used to run around turning anyone they wanted into kumquats and then getting innocently burned at the stake. It was only when the Ministry was formed that there was some sort of order placed into the magical world, though Edward still personally thought it remained quite chaotic. Arthur looked at him like he was crazy, obviously not knowing who he was. Edward rolled his eyes and waved the man off. “I don’t have any muggle artifacts. In fact, the oldest thing here is me. So unless you are going to be taking me in for being in possession of myself, I am going to be leaving.”

“I can’t let you go!” the man exclaimed as he shuffled to stay in front of Edward to prevent him from walking off. Edward laughed as he looked around. There were no other wizards around with their wands pointed at him.

“Wait, did you come here by yourself? To take me in?” Edward chuckled at the man’s expense. He turned red in embarrassment. Edward recognized the likeness of him to his son in his class.

“I need you to submit a form on your magical object,” Arthur clarified.

“Which is?” Edward crossed his arms impatiently over his chest as he waited for an explanation. He was not going to simply walk into the Ministry of Magic for a clerical mistake. The man motioned for a moment as he pulled out a small tablet to read his case notes.

“Ah… one welded iron mask with magical rune engravings,” he said. Edward frowned, feeling his pride flood out of him. The mask. He found his eyes darting down to his suit case where he knew the mask was buried and locked away. He hadn’t found time yet to get a better and more permanent hiding spot for it.

“It’s mine. The ministry will not get it,” Edward growled guardedly.

“We aren’t going to take it… well…. Unless it is a weapon of mass destruction of course…. We just need to make record of its existence.”

“If you don’t have record of it, how did you know I had it in the first place?” he retorted.

“We had some mentions of it-“

“Dumbledore?”

“Yes, how did you know?” Edward cursed the high heavens. He couldn’t believe that after everything that happened, Dumbledore was still trying to keep tabs on him. But the mask. Even all the way from Hogwarts castle, Albus was still taking advantage of the mask. It was an object lost to the ages because Edward made sure that people forgot about it. If Dumbledore leaked information to the ministry about it, the world was going to know that he could be contained. He would have a hoard of power hungry wizards wanting to take advantage of him.

“Why won’t that nutjob leave me alone?! I told him not to follow me!” Edward whined.

“Technically, he didn’t follow you,” Roy noted.

“Oh, shut up! You know what I mean!”

“Do I?” Arthur asked, oblivious that he was not the one being talked to. Edward rolled his eyes in disbelief.

“I made the mask a legend for a reason! I just can’t register it and bring it back out into the open! This thing is dangerous!” At those words Edward found the wand back in his face as Arthur stood on high guard against him. Edward simply smacked it away again. “Not against you! The only danger it poses is against me! I can’t let people learn about it again!”

“Well, if the ministry is searching for it, they already know it exists. If you don’t register it, they would have only more reason to hunt you down and confiscate it,” Hohenheim said.

“It might be best just to do what he says. He is asking politely,” Alphonse added. Edward argued with his friends inside of the stone but it seemed that it was already decided. He would register the mask as an artifact. Edward did not like the decision, but he could not go against the masses. He would never hear the end of it. He just hoped they were right.

“Well, if I am going to go with you to do this, I want a favor in return,” Edward said as he turned back to the wizard who was patiently waiting for his conversation to be over. He looked utterly confused by his exchange. Edward didn’t blame him.

“That’s not how this works.”

“I am a difficult person to take down, Arthur. You won’t be able to take me in by force if I decide not to go. So, I figured I would make this easy for you. I will give you everything you need. I just need you to go buy me an owl. A little one. If you do, I will come easily.”

“A-an owl?” Arthur gaped, very confused at his request. Edward nodded.

“I had a bit of an argument with the owner and now he won’t sell me one. My brother desperately wants one and I need it to send letters. I will give you the galleons and everything-“

“B-but-“

“So its settled! Alphonse do you want to pick it out?”

“YES!” he heard his brother exclaim. With a chuckle of amusement, Edward clapped his hands and erected a suit of armor from the cobblestones. He pulled the firey red soul of his brother from the stone and cast it through the circle to seal him into the armor. After a bright red flash of light, Alphonse was crushing the life out of him in a strong hug as he jumped up and down in his excitement.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you brother!” Alphonse cried. “ Can I name it? Can I get a cage and some treats and-“

“Yes! Alphonse just put me down!” Edward wailed. His brother dropped him and he fell to the ground in a heap. He stood up and cracked his back from where the armored hug had nearly destroyed him. “Arthur, this is my brother Alphonse. Alphonse, Arthur Weasley,” he groaned, introducing the two.  Arthur stared at his brother with his mouth agape as Alphonse shook his hand.

“Uh, my pleasure,” Arthur said politely.

“I can’t go into the store with you but Alphonse can. He wants to pick out the owl. Considering how paranoid the store owner is, I don’t think he would allow my brother to buy it himself. Please just get him an owl.” Arthur barely nodded his head before Alphonse whisked him away back into the store. Edward watched them disappear. When he saw the door close behind them, he quickly ran back into the side alley between the shops. He dropped down and opened his suitcase and began digging through his clothes. A chill ran up his back as he felt the cool iron of the mask in his hand. He closed his eyes and brought it out.

“What are you doing?” Roy asked him.

“Just making some precautions,” he hissed as he clapped his hands. He touched the ground and slowly withdrew the iron deposits into a replica of his mask. It was nearly identical from the worn and weathered material to the horrible twisted expression it bore. The only difference was that one of the runes was missing. Clapping his hands once more he quickly hid the real mask within the solid streets of Diagon alley and placed the replica in his suit case. Edward did not feel safe leaving the mask alone. He feared that someone would find it, even on accident, and use it. However, going into the ministry with it? Even though Arthur seemed like a nice man, he didn’t trust the entirety of the ministry to be as open as he was. If they knew what the mask really was, they might take advantage of having it presented right in front of them. He didn’t want to risk that.

Edward snuck back out onto the curb just as Alphonse dragged the flustered ministry worker out of the store. In Alphonse’s mail gauntlet he held a rather large cage for a small little western sawhet owl. The owl was so small it could have squeezed through the bars if it wanted to. The only thing keeping it there was the sheer terror of the iron giant outside.

“Brother! Look at her! I named her Sock!”

“Be careful! You are scaring the poor thing!” Edward chuckled as he quietly thanked the disturbed Weasley for amusing his brother. Alphonse gasped and tried his best to settle down. The bird seemed to warm up to the giant after his cage wasn’t being flung around. Edward fondly watched his brother coo after the bird and spoil it with a couple treats. Though this wasn’t how Edward had imagined Alphonse getting his first pet, it would have to do. He looked over to Arthur who looked like he didn’t know what he had gotten himself into that afternoon.

“You ready? I don’t have a wand so it might be best for you to lead the way,” Edward said.

“Right,” he said hesitantly before straightening himself out, “Right! Follow me!” The man began to lead him and Alphonse down the streets of Diagon Alley towards where the Ministry buildings laid. Edward took one last look towards the alley where he had deposited his mask. He hoped he made the right decision.

………………..

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 19

The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office

Edward stared at the blank registration form in front of him. It was such a simple question, but he didn’t know how to answer it.

“Maybe you can just put one,” Alphonse suggested, looking at the paper over his shoulder. Edward could hear their new owl hopping around inside Alphonse’s armored body. It seemed that the little thing occasionally escaped the armor to steal paper scraps or pencils from the office. Sock appeared to be building a nest inside of his brother. 

“But they have a specific section to list more.”

“What about this section? That seems specific enough-“

“I don’t have one of those! I think I should just write all of them-“

“You are going to need a lot of paper, brother.”

“Are you having trouble with the form?” Arthur asked them innocently. Their arguing must have aroused him out of his studious examination of the mask. He was using a large magnifying glass but held it like someone who never saw one before might, upside down and waving the handle over the object like a wand. He had run a couple of simple tests on the object to find its magical properties for record sake and was taking very detailed notes. Edward on the other hand was not making much progress on his own work at all..

 “I am going to need another piece of paper.”

“For what?” Edward scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. Maybe he should just lie on the form to avoid causing a ruckus.

“Uh… The section for other officially used names…. I need more space.”

“How many names did you use? Most people only have one or two from marriage-“

“Fifty two…. And I also don’t have a home address…. Nor a fireplace for contact…... nor a birthplace… at least in this world….. and my birthday is a bit messed up too. Family relations are…. Well, obviously I have a brother but he doesn’t really have a body now does he?”

“It’s true,” Alphonse noted as Sock escaped from his helmet and whizzed out of the office. Edward heard someone scream down the hallway.

“And I have no children but I guess the stone is a dependent which means I have over 50 million. That’s gonna take a lot of paper. I also don’t know which magical security number to use, I have two but my most recent is labeled deceased after I fell off into the Grand Canyon. Took me a while to get back and people already wrote my death notice. It’s difficult to tell them to redo their hard work and all-“ Edward started rambling as he realized just how many issues with the form he had but stopped when he saw Arthur’s look of complete bafflement.

“Oh dear. Are you alright?” he asked with great concern. Edward was very taken back. That had happened years ago nearly 70 years ago when his search for Flamel got him tangled with an expedition into the Arizona deserts looking for an endangered thunderbird. It was quite obvious with Edward’s presence in front of Arthur that he didn’t die and had all of his pieces quite put together. However, it wasn’t the man’s obliviousness that got to him, it was his genuine worry for his well being. He didn’t think falling nearly six thousand feet was really something to get worked up about, at least with him being the Eastern Sage and all. Arthur seemed to have a very different opinion.

“I-I’m good…. I mean that was many years ago. Obviously, I am okay.”

“Oh yes, I nearly forgot how old you were. You do still look very young, almost my son’s age-“

“I am 1016! Your office must have some major typing issues if they believe I am only 12!” Edward snapped. “Now can I have that extra paper or not? I want to get this paperwork over with.” Arthur massaged the back of his neck tiredly.

“If you don’t have a magical security number, we are going to have to get you registered for one. We also need to register you as being homeless and unemployed-“

“I am employed!”

“I thought you quit teaching at Hogwarts-“

“Well… it’s complicated…. Kind of…. How did you-“

“Harry and Ron had many words to say about your class and the last letter they sent home. You know how boys are, complaining about school and work load. But when they told me their alchemy class was cancelled, they seemed pretty upset, happened just today too.Got the letter during lunch. Though they didn’t go into too much detail about the reason.”

“Upset?” Edward asked, begging the man to clarify. “They hated my class.”

“On the contrary, though he hated the work load, Ron was very excited to learn about wandless magic-“

“It’s not magic-“

“And Harry found it interesting. They said their young friend Ms. Granger was completely obsessed with your class because of how difficult it was. To be honest, you probably had a great influence on them because my kids rarely send letters home. This year I got nearly one a week from each of them, even George and Fred, and all had something about you in it.” Edward frowned as he heard this. Influence? He didn’t think he, let alone his class, would have had an impact on any of the students. It was only a few months. He didn’t think that was enough time to make an impact on someone, especially when he wasn’t trying.

“I…I didn’t know,” Edward muttered as he pondered the idea. Arthur nodded with a cheery smile.

“Yes, well, sometimes the most obvious things are not actually the most obvious to us… like what this mask does,” he said, holding up the stone mask in his hand. Edward knew it was fake, but just seeing the tormented face sent shivers up his spine. He might have made it too well. Arthur looked at it closely like it was the most challenging thing he has ever seen. Edward found himself scooting his own chair away from it.

“It has basic runes and then some symbols I never saw before. It has absolutely no magical properties to it. It isn’t dangerous or explosive, and seems to not be cursed. It appears to just be a muggle object, but if that’s the case it shouldn’t be labeled as a magical artifact. I might have to send this to John in our analysis team for help. This is beyond me.”

“No, it’s not,” Edward said as he saw Arthur get disheartened at his work. Though Edward wanted anything to not even think about the mask, he couldn’t help but feel bad for wasting Arthur’s time with a false one. Arthur had been nothing but nice to him since he brought him in. He couldn’t let Arthur leave empty handed. He was already a handful as it was.

“It’s not beyond you. You almost had it,” Edward repeated. “The mask… these basic magical runes are antimagic. They prevent anything magical from being cast on it, or from the person wearing it. So that is why none of your tests were working. It negates magical ability. Similarly, these runes, the ones you can’t identify, are alchemical symbols and negate alchemical abilities of the wearer. Because of this, it is indestructible by magical, alchemical, and even physical means. I tried everything. Smashing it, melting it, even using acids, or explosives. It won’t break. I don’t even know how they made it in the first place. Muggles knew nothing about magic, let alone alchemy. Whoever gave them instructions, however they made it, it’s permanent.”

“So it renders the person completely powerless?” Edward nodded his head. “Who was it made for?” Edward looked away from the wizard. He saw Alphonse tilt his head towards him as if trying to give Arthur a nudge in the right direction. Arthur seemed to register after a moment of thought.

“Oh dear,” Arthur breathed. He glanced down at the object in his grasp and set it down gently. It seemed he became nearly as disgusted with its presence as Edward had. He wrung his hands out to get the feeling off of him. Arthur hesitated. “But why would anyone-“

“Who wouldn’t really?” Edward countered. “I am a walking philosopher’s stone. In magic standards I could do nearly anything. That scares people. Either they want to lock me away because I’m a monster or keep me chained as a weapon. There are a million reasons why someone would use it. Even the nicest people, when pushed far enough will.” Edward paused and bit his lip. He wanted to continue to explain to Arthur the properties of the mask but as he remembered his most recent encounter with the wrong side of the mask, he couldn’t trust himself to continue. He closed his eyes to blink away his bubbling anxiety and gave the wizard in front of him a curt smile. “Yes, well, Al can go into more detail on the hows and the whys if you need them for your report. I still have to uh, finish my end of things. Fifty names aren’t going to write themselves.”

“Mr. Elric-“

“Edward, both of us are Mr. Elric. It get's kind of confusing. Just Edward and Alphonse,“ he answered as he buried his head back into the paperwork in front of him. He still didn’t know how to fill in the boxes but he did his best to try and put one of his many names at the top of the page.

“Uh, Edward. I might have only known you for a little while, but I can tell you are not a monster nor a weapon. You don’t seem like the type of person who would hurt anyone. I trust in my sons’ opinions of you, and it seems that all of them, in their own ways, like you..” Edward glanced up at Arthur who was smiling sympathetically down towards him. Edward felt his brother nudge him encouragingly and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a weak smile. Arthur truly was a kind man. He didn’t even know him for a day and was giving him the benefit of the doubt. It was more than many wizards had given him before. He nodded to him in gratitude.

“Well, after we get you finished with this paperwork, I don’t believe that my wife would be against having some guests over for dinner. She would love to get to talk to you since you have been looking after our sons for a while.”

“It’s alright. I was going to get a room at the Leaky Cauldron. I wouldn’t want to interrupt-“

“It’s a party. We are throwing a little get together to celebrate. Apparently a rather large amount of gold magicked its way into our savings this morning. It’s just enough for us to take a trip to see our eldest son in Romania for Christmas. Might as well have a party.” Edward’s eyes widened as he glanced at his brother. Though Alphonse could not make facial expression through his armor, it seemed he was thinking the same thing. There was no way that Arthur’s mini wealth was a coincidence. Edward felt a smile over come him as he nodded his head.

“Alright, if you insist,” he said, his heart warming up to the idea of his small act of kindness actually being received.

“Splendid! I will heat up the hearth and let Molly know about the new guest!” Arthur giddily jumped from his chair and hurried over to the fireplace. Edward chuckled to himself as he returned his mind to his paperwork. He would have to finish it before he ever thought of stepping out of the Ministry.

Edward and Alphonse struggled to fill out their papers. They worked hard to try and figure out how to fill in every blank while their owl spent its time completing its nest in Alphonse’s armor. A couple of hours went by before the clock chimed 5:00PM. Edward groaned as he rubbed out his ink stained wrist. Even after a hundred years he could never use a quill without getting ink over himself.

“Arthur it will take another millenia for me to get all of this paperwork done. I am sure that my arms will fall off before then,” Edward complained. Arthur looked up from the paperwork he had been finishing up and glanced over to the clock on the wall.

“I guess you are right. It seems you are finished with most of what I need. You can finish the paperwork tomorrow morning over breakfast I am sure. We can drop what we got at the front desk and be on our way. Molly would be furious if I was late to my own party." The wizard gathered together his papers and shoved them into a clean folder before handing the mask back to him. Alphonse managed to take it without any trouble. 

Arthur lead them through the ministry building to the front desk. Edward got several confused glances his way but he did his best to ignore them. It was best if he didn't bring attention to himself in a place full of wizards, though it was hard not to when there was a seven foot suit of armor walking beside them. When they wound through the many hallways, they finally arrived at the secretarial desk of the Muggle relations department. Arthur smiled happily at the clerk and dropped the file on the desk. 

"You seem happy, Mr. Weasely," the woman said. 

"Of course I am! I am going home to see my wonderful wife! There is nothing that can make me happier."

"Well, that's wonderful! I am just a little busy right now helping Mr. Malfoy with the last of his paperwork. Once I am done I will get your papers going and sign you out."

"Well, there is nothing that can make me more disappointed than seeing Malfoy's smug mug here," Edward muttered under his breath.

"What were you saying, Paracelsus?" Edward heard a slimy voice say behind him. He turned around to see the tall blond man standing over him with a smug look on his face and his own folder tucked underneath his arm. 

"Great my day is ruined," he exclaimed in sarcastic exasperation. Lucius gave him a warning glare as he set his papers on the desk alongside Mr. Weasley's. 

"You don't work in the Muggle Relations Department, Lucius," Arthur stated, glazing over the insult that Edward had sent the man's way.

"No. I would never have found myself in your pathetic little office if it weren't for a complaint I had. My half blooded neighbors are having family reunions and are inviting their extended family to a highly populated wizarding community. They are on the brink of threatening the statute of secrecy with that move. I had to put a stop to it." The man seemed too proud of himself for stating that he practically destroyed a family's life. Edward couldn't imagine a man so vile that he didn't feel an ounce of remorse. "And you, I am guessing, are dealing with the consequences of Dumbledore's new pet? How nice of you two to get acquainted." Edward lunged towards Lucius but his little brother stuck out his arm and held him back. It didn't stop him from trying to get a swing in. 

"Pet? Pet! I want nothing to do with that stupid child, Dumbledore. Why don't I remind you of our last disagreement before you try insulting me again!" Lucius took a step back from him just out of reach of his throws. 

"Temper," the man tisked in false disappointment.

"For your information, Lucius, I just brought Mr. Elric down here to do some paperwork on an unregistered magical artifact," Arthur intervened.

"Artifact?" the man asked but paused as he glanced down and caught sight of the mask in Alphonse's metallic grip. "Well, what a fascinating mask you got there," A light flickered in the wizard's eyes as if he recognized it from somewhere. Lucius tried to examine it more closely. However, as he reached for the mask, Alphonse quickly tucked it away out of his reach. "You know I collect some rare magical artifacts. It's a hobby of mine where Arthur here spends his time gathering mundane little muggle trinkets. Magical artifacts can be very powerful and dangerous, Paracelsus. You should know the value of the piece before you. Name your price. I will take it off your hands."

"Excuse us, but it is not for sale, Mr. Malfoy," Alphonse cut in. Lucius ignored him and asked Edward once more for a price. 

"I know some people who would love to get their hands on an artifact like this. I would hate to disappoint them. Name. Your. Price." Each word was punctuated like a threat. Edward had a feeling that he knew what people Lucius was referring to and it was definitely no one he wanted to get mixed up with. 

"Listen to my brother, Lucius Malfuck. It is not for sale. Now walk your rich ass back home. If you make any more trouble about this, I will be sending you home with two broken arms this time." The smile on Lucius' face faded into a scowl as the secretary handed him back his receipt. He looked like he wanted to retaliate but had no further buttons to push. However, after Malfoy slinked off in defeat, Edward couldn't help but feel that it was he who was on the losing side of their exchange. Malfoy knew about the mask and of his stay in Diagon Alley. He was sure that news would spread around their little group. Though he had dealt with Lucius easily enough before when he tried to forcefully take him back for a discussion with his master, Edward did not like the idea that he now had multiple targets on his back. He needed to get the real mask back before the death eaters realized where he hid it.

After watching Malfoy make his leave, Arthur let out a small huff as he straightened his robes out. "That man will do what he can to get under your skin. I didn't realize that you two had met before."

"Yeah. We had a slight disagreement about my agenda. The argument ended rather quickly." 

"A broken wand arm, I presume?" Arthur questioned. Edward nodded. "Well, hopefully I will always be on your side of a debate. Let's put the bad behind us and get home. Molly will have my ear if I am late." Arthur gathered himself together and started to bustle Edward and his brother towards the door. However, Edward planted his feet. 

"Arthur, I do want to go to your party, but I need to get something that I left first. Do you mind waiting up for a few minutes while I go get it?" Arthur frowned and looked at his watch. He seemed disappointed that there was a delay in his plans but he was a generous man, even with his time. 

"Alright. I will meet you by the Leaky Cauldron if that's alright. Ten minutes enough?" he asked. Edward smiled gratefully. 

"Plenty." He tapped Alphonse on his armor and motioned him to follow. His brother thanked Arthur with a quick goodbye before tromping behind him out of the ministry. Outside, Edward began to jog back towards the Magical Menagerie against his brother's complaints to slow down. Alphonse's large armor proved quite the obstacle in a busy city street. 

"Brother! Wait up!" he heard Alphonse call between apologizing to the owl nesting in his chest cavity. It seems Socks was not having a pleasant ride. Edward's pursuit screeched to a stop as he reached the entrance of the alley by the Menagerie. He saw the shop owner taking a smoke break by the back door of the shop. He tucked himself around the corner of the entrance to await the man's departure, but Alphonse didn't quite catch the hint that he was trying to remain unnoticed. 

"What are you looking for?" Alphonse asked. Edward motioned for him to keep quiet, afraid that he would give them away but the shop owner seemed none the wiser. He watched as the man stubbed out his cigarette and waddled back inside, leaving the alley abandoned. Seeing that the coast was clear, Edward immediately began to examine the cobblestones for the scratchy marks of a hastily made transmutation. Though obvious to a trained alchemist, they were subtle enough that a person passing by would not notice anything wrong with the ground. After finding them, Edward clapped his hands and opened up the earth. 

"Edward!" Alphonse gasped as he pulled out the mask and dusted it off. Edward took a deep breath, both relieved that it was still there unharmed and terrified that it was so close to him again. "You mean to say I was carrying around a fake the whole time?"

"Shh!" Edward scolded as he tossed the mask into this suitcase. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you but I couldn't bring it into the ministry. What if it was confiscated? I couldn't risk it." 

    "Brother, I understand your concern but leaving it here unguarded? Someone could have seen you and gotten it anyways! I should have known! I could have stayed behind. Besides, even if we brought it, Mr. Weasley doesn't seem like the type of man who would just take it away from you like that," Alphonse reasoned. Edward felt guilty for not explaining his plan to his brother but he didn't feel like he had a choice. By the time he thought of the plan, he couldn't tell his brother at risk of exposing the real mask. Edward began to devise a better apology but didn't get far when he heard several loud popping noises from the entrance way of the alley. 

    "It wasn't him I was worried about," Edward growled as he glared at the four darkly hooded figures now blocking their way. Alphonse turned around and took a defensive stance next to him when he caught sight of the figures. It was not a coincidence that they were there after they had run into Malfoy at the Ministry. They knew what they wanted and they knew where to find it. "You were out of the stone for a while, do you think you can stay out long enough to teach these guys a lesson?"

    "You are acting like this is going to be a long fight." Edward laughed at his brother's retort, shaking off the anxiety that had swelled in his stomach. Four wizards against two alchemists, he didn't like these odds especially with the mask being in the mix. The wizards all raised their wands and the alchemists both clapped their hands to take the first strikes. Edward quickly sealed up the alley way from the main square, blocking them and the chaos of their fight away from pedestrians. Alphonse stood in front of him as a shield and let the spells rebound off of his metal armor. Edward watched as his brother sent a wave of cobblestone and gravel at the wizards but under the roar of the earth, he heard the popping sound of the wizards apparating out of danger. There was a loud crack behind him.

"Cruci-" he heard the wizard begin to chant but an armored hand came down on top of the man's head, knocking him out. Edward turned around and glanced behind him to see the crumpled form of one of the death eaters. 

    "Thanks Al. That wouldn't have been pleasant."

    "You need to be more careful."

"Hey, it's hard when they just pop out of nowhere!"

Crack! Another deatheater popped out beside him and Edward decked the man before he could get his wand up. The wizard was out cold. 

"See? It's annoying."

"You would think they would have learned."

Crack! Crack! Smack!

"Ow! Elric?! What are you doing?" the wizard cried. It was when Edward lowered his fists that he realized the man he had just punched in the stomach was none other than the Hogwart's Potions master. The two wizards that had apparated in front of them now were Severus Snape and the dreaded Albus Dumbledore.

"Severus?! Albus?!! What are you doing here? Can't you see I'm busy?" Edward gaped. 

"Just a day out shopping before we go to a party. We have to pick up some warm presents for our hosts. I was thinking of some sweets from the candy shop but Severus was thinking more practical things like some yarn for knitting," Dumbledore responded as Severus did his best to regain his breath.

"You better tell me the truth before I give you another black eye, Albus!" 

"Well, I could ask you the same thing. Why are you slinking around alleys at this time of day?"

"Slinking?! I don't slink!" Edward howled. He would have tacked on a few more urging comments but in the silence of the alley he heard the final two pops of wizards apparating. They sounded like they came from the rooftop. He glanced up but saw nothing other than the clear blue sky. 

"I think they left," Alphonse commented. Edward agreed. It seemed that the presence of a few other witnesses and the fact that two of their buddies were already down for the count had scared them off. Severus looked around and saw the two groaning bodies of the death eaters at their feet. He whipped out his wand and whispered a quick spell. Edward recoiled as ropes shot out of the end of Severus' wand. He had thought that they were headed for him but instead they tangled themselves around the two wizards. 

"Now, Elric, why are there two unconscious wizards in a completely destroyed alley?"

"None of your business!" Edward snapped. 

"I feel like it is my business after getting punched in the stomach. Now do your best to enlighten me." 

"Well, if it wasn't obvious, you two aren't the only people looking for the mask. Now that it is out in the open unwarded after you so rudely stole it from my house, people are doing their best to get their hands on both it and me. You would be far too naive if you think that this fight had ended back at Hogwarts." Edward snatched his bag from the ground where he had dropped it and held it close. He felt the mask inside of it and found himself relaxing. Good. It wasn't with the deatheaters and he sure as hell wasn't allowing Dumbledore to get it again. "Now, why are you really here? I told you to quit following me."

    "We really did tell you the truth. There is a party and we need to pick up some presents," Albus said.

    "Pssh. Who would ever invite a brat like you to a party?" Edward growled as he watched Alphonse deconstruct the barrier that blocked the alleyway off from the rest of the street. A few confused onlookers watched as they emerged from the darkness but otherwise turned a blind eye from the obscurity. Edward looked down the street towards where the Leaky Cauldron laid and could see a small speck of red hair in the far distance. Albus looked towards where he was staring and a sly smile wrapped around his face. Edward glared at him. He didn't like it when the man knew more than he did. 

    "Who invited you to a party?" Edward asked again, stiffly.

    "I am sure you met him. It's Mr. Weasley."

………

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 20

The Burrow

When arriving to a party, one would expect the guests to be happy and excited. Most of the people Arthur had apparated home with were. Albus carried a giant basket of every flavor jelly beans and chocolate frogs while wearing a huge smile on his face, Severus held a large skein of expensive red wool, and Arthur was brimming with excitement as he got to see his wife and family again that evening. Edward, however, was far from happy. He stood on the porch of the Weasley home, as he learned it was called the Burrow, with his arms crossed and an ugly scowl on his face as Arthur fumbled with the keys. He had originally thought the party would be fun when he was first invited but now that Albus and Severus were there he was in for a very long night. It wasn't like he could politely leave. They were lost in the middle of the countryside a ten mile walk from the nearest train station and wizards weren't one for cars. The more time he spent with the Headmaster, the more time he knew coming to the Burrow was a mistake.

    "Brother, don't be so upset. You will ruin the party with your mood," Alphonse scolded him from the stone. Edward had to return him from the armor shortly after their fight. He had been out all day and it was obviously wearing on him. 

    "It would have been nice if I didn't have to spend so long with this bearded dimwit," Edward huffed to him in Amestrian. He caught Albus staring at him as if trying to translate what he was saying but Edward spelled it out for him with his middle finger. The headmaster quickly got the idea.

    "Honey! I am home! And I brought some guests!" Arthur cheered as he finally opened the door.

Edward was hit with a homely warmth the instant he stepped through the threshold. The smell of baking pastries and food swarmed the air. Arthur and the other wizards got talking to the others in the house as Edward stared at the wonderful mess that was around. Piles of yarn and half-made sweaters were thrown over an easy chair in the corner. A fire roared in the hearth above which millions of pictures and hand made crafts scattered the mantle. There was a large dining table that appeared to be melded together from different woods which was surrounded by a run of mismatched chairs. The house was very very well used and well lived in. He could almost feel the number of happy people who walked and wore away at the floors every day. It was overwhelming. Though he had a house in Siberia, it wasn’t like this.

“It… feels familiar doesn’t it?” Alphonse whispered in awe as he seemed to be feeling the same thing he was. Edward nodded his head as he looked around. The sense of the house was pulling at his memory and urging him to remember something. What it was he couldn’t say but it was nonetheless familiar.

“Y-yeah… it does,” he breathed.

A voice called out to him and he looked up from his trance. He didn’t realize how distracted he was by the house. A red-haired woman looking at him with a gentle smile on her face. It radiated with the same warmth the house had.

“What’s your name, dear?” she asked him.

“Uh…” Edward hesitated as he still hadn’t seemed to woken up from the spell he was under. Seeing his confusion, Albus took the liberty of stepping forward.

“Molly, this is Paracelsus-“

“Edward! My name is Edward. How many times do I have to tell you, you stubborn brat?! If you call me that one more time, I will break your nose again and make sure it stays that way!” he yelled after hearing his old name. Albus didn’t move, but Edward noticed a pained look in his eyes as it was obvious he wasn’t too keen on reenacting that experience any time soon. Though most of the wizarding world knew him as Paracelsus, that name had a target painted right on its back. Not only that but it really wasn’t him anymore. Since the 1800s he started making people call him Edward. He hated that Albus refused to consistently call him by his real name.

Molly looked a little confused to the conflicting answers. He cleared his throat as he regained his composure. “My name is really Edward Elric,” he repeated softly.

“Oh! So you are the professor I heard so much about. Edward it is then! I am Molly, Ronald’s mother. Hope he hasn’t given you much grief.”

“Just the right amount, actually,” he chuckled lightly giving the woman a good laugh.

“Coming from you, I’m guessing that’s a lot.” Molly smiled and welcomed him father into her house. With how easily the others settled in, it was apparent to Edward that they had been to the Burrow before if not several times. Molly took his coat for him and hung it up on the rack she moved for his bag but he withdrew it from her reach.

“I think I will hold onto this.”

“You can’t hold onto it all night! What type of party would that be?” she said as she reached for the bag again, but he once more pulled back.

“I… I just don’t want people to look through my things.”

“I don’t think you have to be afraid about that my dear.” Edward glanced over to where Dumbledore and Severus had taken up seats in the living room couch. They were in an avid discussion with Arthur about the uses of a bicycle. He wouldn’t imagine that Albus would try anything at the party to get the mask back, but then again, he very much could. He shook his head and held his bag tighter, feeling the cool mask even beneath the layers of cloth.

“I really do.” Molly looked taken back at his short answer, but she seemed to realize his desperation. Her eyes softened when she looked at him and she gently reached out to set a comforting hand on his elbow.

“Edward, I can tell you are worried, but I will promise that no one, absolutely no one, will root through your things. I will ensure it myself.” He wanted to tell himself not to believe her but the look she was giving him was 100% genuine. She meant exactly what she said. After a moment’s thought, he relented and carefully handed his bag over to her.

“Oof!” she huffed as she felt the weight of it. “I couldn’t imagine you carrying this around anyways. It’s heavy!” Molly set the bag off to the side in the mudroom and quickly rushed him out to enjoy the party. By that time a few other people had also joined their small gathering. It was obvious that most of the people at the party were the Weasley’s neighbors from nearby farms, none of which Edward knew. He saw another red head which Edward had to assume was none other than another Weasley, but he didn’t recognize him from Hogwarts. The man was twiddling away at a small newspaper which was flipped open to the stocks section. It seemed he was trying to calculate some advances in the market. Either that or playing the daily sudoku puzzle.

“William! Come greet the guests. You can’t stay cooped up punching numbers all day,” she said, swatting the pencil out of his hand.

“Mum! I only had one more square left. It was a long day! I broke a curse on an old Egyptian scarab artifact and when I checked in with my bosses at the bank, Gringotts was in utter chaos. Money was moving everywhere!” he whined.

“Oh, just be glad that we got some of it! Now come! I am sure you would like to see a new face. This is Edward Elric, Ron’s alchemy teacher,” Molly introduced.

“Ex-alchemy teacher. Not working there anymore,” Edward reminded her. William eagerly greeted him with a handshake.

“Hey, I’m Bill. I work at Gringotts as a curse breaker. Currently, doing my work in the pyramids retrieving lost treasures.”

“I always found curse breakers so fascinating. Everyone wants to be a treasure hunter and you get to do it! I tried my best to hide a few things to see how you do it. You always amaze me. Most treasure were lost by accident though – you won’t believe how many royals foolishly trusted me and my butterfingers to hold onto jewels. I know where you can find some if you want them. You guys still haven’t found the Florentine diamond I stuffed in the Statue of Liberty’s nose,” Edward replied.

“The Florentine…You… what?” Bill asked hesitantly. It seemed like he wasn’t sure if Edward was mocking him or not.

“Yeah. Most treasures are actually lost because of me. Except the ones in Egypt. I haven’t really spent too much time there due to the desert heat so you’re on your own. But Europe? Mostly me. For instance, if you want the first crown jewels of England, they are sitting in my vault in Gringotts. They are kind of damaged because it was my only form of money for a while, but still in good repair. People just think its lost because the bank didn’t have a good record system until the 12^th century. To be honest, I kind of forgot they were there. I haven’t been to Gringotts in a couple hundred years and-“ He started but slowly trailed off as he saw everyone staring at him. He felt himself turn red in embarrassment. “Well if you want it, I think I have a piece of paper or pen around here somewhere. I can write a notice for you to pull it out of my vault. Wouldn’t be too hard to find now that I emptied the thing out. Where is that pen?” Edward buzzed to himself as he patted his pockets in search of a writing instrument. His short explanation did nothing to ease the shocked minds of the room. Bill and the rest of the Weasleys stared at him flabbergasted.

“The… first crown jewels? King Arthur’s Crown? I’m sorry, who are you again?” Bill faltered as he heard his strange story.

“William, you might better recognize him as being the Eastern Sage, Paracelsus,” Albus said.

“I can introduce myself, you bearded toddler!” Edward barked at the headmaster.

 “Wait… Paracelsus? You’re Paracelsus?! It was you?!” William exclaimed. “You’re the one who emptied your vault today.” Edward quickly found his arm consumed in a furious handshake. “God, it’s great to meet you. You really put Gringotts through a loop but thank you. Thank you very much. You don’t know what this means to us.”

“Uh.. you’re welcome?” Edward hesitated as he tried his hardest to free his hand. It wasn’t budging.

“Bill, what is this about? What’s got you so worked up?” Arthur asked. It seemed the distraction his dad gave was all the man needed to release his grip. Edward cradled his aching shoulder as he tried to regain himself from the attack. Bill struggled to find his words he was so excited. Molly and Arthur had to try their best to calm him down.

“This man was the one who nearly emptied his bank account for everyone! He’s the one who gave us our travel money.” Everyone looked at Edward in surprise as they realized that the reason that they were able to have this party was because he was generous with his money.

“It wasn’t like I was using it,” Edward huffed under his breath before he was instantly tackled in a group of warm hugs from the Weasleys. Cheers of gratitude suffocated him and Edward did his best to not drown in it. The commotion was making him lightheaded. “I-It’s nothing. It really isn’t-“

“Don’t be so modest! You are worse than Harry!” Molly scolded him as she finally released him. Edward was severely taken back when he saw tear tracks down her face. She did her best to dab them away with a handkerchief, but it did little to erase the sight from his mind. “It’s because of you that we get to go out to Romania to see our son Charlie. It’s been ages since we saw him.” Though the loss of his money had very little impact on him, it seemed to mean a lot to those who he had given it to. He hadn’t thought much about doing it, he just wanted to walk into his vault. But, seeing Molly’s tears of joy, brought a small smile to Edward’s face. Sometimes, trivial things aren’t always that to others.

“You’re welcome,” Edward restated, more sincerely than the last. Arthur called for a celebration but after reminding him that they were already in the middle of a party, Molly began to herd them all towards the table as she tried to regain her wits back in the kitchen. Edward didn’t think that he would be seeing the smile leave her face for a long time. Just as he was going to head to the table to join the rest of the party guests, he felt a hand on his shoulder stop him. It was Severus.

“Did you really give away half your money?” he asked quietly. Initially, Edward felt offended because it seemed the man doubted his integrity but after a second glance, it seemed that Severus was simply intrigued as to his reasons.

“All I wanted to do in Gringotts was to make a withdrawal but that’s kind of hard to do if my vault is so full I can’t even walk into it. I hadn’t touched the money in my vault for a couple hundred years. What’s the point of having it if it wouldn’t leave a dusty room? I just told the Goblins to give it away. Hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Not thinking? Very unravenclaw like of you,” Severus noted but Edward shrugged.

“Professor Ravenclaw always said habits are made out of repeated thoughts and actions. So… I guess I made a habit. What are you doing here then? Following Albus’ coat tails still?” Severus stiffened at his question. He straightened himself out and cleared his throat as if to maintain his dignity.

“I was running an errand but Dumbledore asked me to tag along with him to this get together. Then we found you. When I learned what the party was about, I became very intrigued because it appeared that under the same circumstances I got a small surprise of 800 galleons,” he answered truthfully. Edward’s eyes widened as he saw Severus stand there like a plank, taking the embarrassment as it came. Unknowingly, Edward had helped some of the very people who had attacked him. Severus was a very prideful person and to accept help from someone he was at heads with was humiliating. Yet, owning that humility seemed to be Severus’ own form of gratitude though he would never say the words out loud. Edward let out a small laugh and nudged the potion’s master in the ribs.

“Yeah, honesty isn’t very slytherin-like of you either! We should probably both stick to our houses from now on,” Edward teased.

“Probably for the best,” Severus replied though not will a small shadow of a grin on his face. The two of them gave small nods to acknowledge that the tension between them was not going to remain an obstacle. With everything that happened in and outside of Hogwarts, it seemed like they both thought it the best to not forgive but to at least try and move forward.

The two of them rejoined the table and Edward picked up his conversation with Bill again as they began to discuss different lost treasures. The young man was writing everything he said down as to record the locations of several artifacts. Though most of them were not magical in nature, both muggle and wizard could appreciate the sheer amount of wealth they were worth. He had used nearly five feet of parchment before there was even a break in their conversation. Bill leaned back and massaged his wrist with an awed look on his face.

 “You know you can write a book about all of the crazy stuff you did,” he noted as he relaxed to read over what he had. His journeys to the early Americas, his visits to emperors and palaces, his blunders on the battlefield, these were only a few instances in Edward’s life and yet they filled the parchment front and back. Edward chuckled as he thought of it. It sure would be an amusing book, but he didn’t think there would be enough paper in the world to allow him to finish it. If he ever finished it. He could imagine the final chapter with him walking home over the fields of Resembool with Alphonse and Winry on a clear summer’s day. No stone, only people. What he wouldn’t give to read that.

“Ed,” he heard Winry call out to him softly. He quickly forced a smile on his face for her sake.

“Yeah,” he laughed weakly. Bill looked like he was going to ask another question but was cut short when they caught a whiff of an awful burning smell coming from the kitchen. Yelling picked up from behind him and there was a clatter of pots and pans. Edward turned around in his seat just to see Molly waving a pot of burnt and overflowing stew around as she scolded her husband.

“I gave you one job! You couldn’t have stirred it once?! This took all day to make!” Arthur was doing his best to calm his wife but there was nothing much he could do. Bill was laughing quietly at his parents’ squabble. Apparently, this happened every other day.

“Molly,” Edward called out as he stood up from his seat. The woman’s rage was stopped short as he came over to them. He took the pot out of her hands and set it gently off to the side. “I can make you a new pot of stew if you will help me.”

“Oh, no my dear, I wouldn’t ask you to do that. You did enough for this family. Besides it won’t cook in time-“ she started to sputter but Edward didn’t take no for an answer.

“Don’t worry about time just tell me where to find some ingredients. I will get it done within the hour.” He quickly dumped out the stew contents to begin a fresh batch. He asked Molly for the ingredients and she helped him chop some vegetables and brown the stew meat. Edward found himself relaxing as he fell easily into the routine of cooking. He had to learn how to cook for himself over the years. With Izumi and Pinako in the stone giving him cooking tips, he quickly sprinted through the learning curve on how to cook. Though he became a decent chef, he was tired of eating a lone. It was hard to share a meal when everyone around you was made of metal.

Once everything was ready and thrown into a pot.  Edward quickly alchemized the pot shut and motioned for Molly to stand back. With a clap of his hands he quickly set the pot under pressure and within a few moments, it was done.

“Amazing, now that is a trick I will have to learn for Christmas,” Molly hummed as she looked at the pot of steaming hot stew. Edward had helped invent the muggle pressure cooker. Though in the wizarding community there weren’t any plugs to use one, his alchemic version got the job done. Wizards would have also easily enjoyed pressure cooking if they ever cared to learn alchemy correctly.

With the food done, Molly and Arthur busied themselves in setting the table. A couple flicks of their wands had everything sorted out in no time. Edward saw several trays of stew, potatoes, and carrots, along with a few pumpkin deserts spread here and there. Molly had gone all out for this party and seemed intent on enjoying it. In a blink of an eye Edward was ushered to the table and found his cup filled to the brim with good hard cider. Though he couldn’t enjoy the full extent of alcohol, cider was by far his favorite form of it. The liquor was sweet to the taste and left the perfect amount of cinnamon burn at the end. He felt his stomach bubble in eager delight as he looked at the wonderful spread before him.

“Molly, you really outdid yourself,” he gasped as he looked at the feast. When he heard of the party he had expected a small get together with a couple tarts. This was nearly as large as the feast of nativity.

“Oh, you’re being too kind, dear,” she said with a small blush of pride coloring her cheeks. “Besides, you helped in preparing it as well. Now everyone, don’t dig in all at once!” Everyone did, in fact, dig in at once and soon the entire table was chomping happily on the meal in front of them and making polite conversation between bites.  Edward and Bill picked up where their conversations had left off. By the end of dinner, the two of them became well acquainted with each other and Edward was preparing to authorize Bill’s removal of the crown from his vault.

“Are you sure?” Bill said, stopping Edward from finishing his letter to Gringott’s for the allowance. “Doesn’t it hold any value to you?”

“I would rather never think of it nor the head that wore it ever again. I only ever had it out of necessity. It’s honestly a relief to be getting rid of it. Keep it and wear it as an expensive party hat,” he said light heartedly, but Bill seemed to understand what he meant and let it go. Edward handed him the letter and Bill tucked the paper in his pocket to ease his mind.

The night drew on and eventually the party dwindled. The neighbors left and the Weasleys had started cleaning up the party. Edward looked at the clock and knew that he should be figuring out a way back to Diagon Alley so that he could get a room. He didn’t really know where he was and definitely didn’t know how to get back. That was the downside of apparation, there was very little orientation when you just appear somewhere.

“Molly.”

“Yes, dear?” the woman answered politely as she began folding afghans which were used sometime throughout the night. The house was comfortably used so even Molly’s attempts at cleaning up seemed heart felt but futile.

“Do you know the nearest train station? I should get back to Diagon Alley for a room-“

“Train station? Why not just apparate-“

“I am getting a new wand, but it won’t be ready until Monday.”

“Oh dear, I guess Arthur did apparate you here didn’t he? Well, let me just finish tidying up a little bit and then I could-“

“Molly, don’t worry too much about it. I can take Paracelsus where he needs to go. I have a few urgent things I need to discuss with him,” Edward heard the most annoying voice say behind him. He spun around and glared at Albus who had yet needed to remove himself from the party.

“This is the last time I am going to tell you. My name is Edward. If you finish my name incorrectly one more time I will rip your throat out, you levereter,” Edward seethed under his breath.

“No need for that language and accusation at a party, Edward” Albus replied.

“Levereter is not an accusation if it’s true.” The man sighed at Edward’s hostility like it was nothing more than another headache.

“Edward, I have some important news that you will need to hear-“

“Nothing you have to say could be that important. I would rather walk back to Diagon Alley then spend another second with you.”

“Edward, there’s no need to be so rough. He is just trying to help after all,” Molly said calmly. She didn’t know about their fight. If she did, she would understand his bitterness much like Severus who seemed to be giving their feud some space.

“He has ruined my life enough,” Edward huffed. “Albus, whatever urgent matters you have, you can shove them up your ass. The last urgent plan you had was to confine me indefinitely in the dungeons. If you try anything like that again, that castle of yours will be a pile of rubble.”

“It isn’t. This is news from Nicolas Flamel,” he cut in as he handed Edward a sealed envelope. Edward felt his breath die in his chest as he looked down at the parchment. It was addressed to him and sealed with his own wax serpentine cross. After hundreds of years of tracking down and chasing his old student, he was now reaching out to him directly. This news wasn’t good.

“Nick?” Edward asked in shock and hesitantly took the letter. Albus nodded his head but said nothing more. The handwriting was so familiar it was like his old student was writing his essays and algorithms again. Instead, the man was writing his dying wishes. After reading it twice, Edward found himself leaning back in his chair feeling thousands of years older than he really was.

“Chase him for six hundred years and now he’s inviting me to tea, that fucking bastard,” Edward breathed. He felt his eyes grow damp as he thought of his old student.

“That isn’t really a way to talk about someone on their deathbed,” Albus noted.

“Then you didn’t know him very well,” Edward retorted. “Why are you giving this to me now? Why didn’t he just send it right to me?”

“Your letter was enclosed in my own. Flamel had some reservations sending it to you directly. He was afraid you would hate him. He wanted me to deliver it to you incase you needed some convincing.”

“I am furious at him,” Edward admitted. “What he did to us can never be forgiven. However, he is my student. I don’t hate him. The only thing I could hate him for is for sending the letter to you. He picked the worse fucking person to convince me of anything.” He saw a silent chuckle appear on Albus’ face at his jabbing humor.

“Brother, what are you going to do?” he heard Alphonse say. Edward took a pause to weigh his options but he knew there really was only one choice.

“I am going to teach him a final lesson about equivalent exchange,” Edward sighed and after taking one last glance at the letter, folded it up and tucked it into his cloak. “Do you mind if I borrow Sock? I am going to have to send a letter.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Albus, is this all you came here to do?” Edward asked as he stood up from his chair. The man shrugged.

“I also wanted to try convincing you to come back to the castle but this was what I needed to do. I can always convince you later.” Edward grunted but had no retort or response for him. His mind was elsewhere. He grabbed a scrap piece of paper out of his pocket. It was wrinkled and torn but good enough to use. After scribbling a quick note he slid his writing back into his pocket and turned to his hosts.

“Thank you, Molly for your hospitality but I must be getting back to Diagon Alley. I think I will take the train.” A shocked look spread over Molly’s face as she chased after him.

“That’s a near ten-mile walk! You can’t do that at this hour!” she exclaimed.

“It is alright. Quite frankly, I need the walk. I will see Arthur tomorrow morning at the office to finish the work we started,” he said with finality. Molly looked like she wanted to argue with him some more but Arthur rested a hand on her shoulder holding her back. Edward snatched his bag from where it was stowed and said a few more goodbyes to his host. Before he left, he gave Albus a stern glare.

“You will leave me in peace to deal with Nick, or God help you you will be joining him on his deathbed,” he threatened. Out of all the insults and threats he spewed at the man over the last day, Albus realized that this one was meant cold and true. With a firm nod of his head, he left the warmth of the house and headed into the long and open field that the Burrow had claimed as a yard. When he got to the gate he paused and made a couple loud cooing patterns. Socks swooped out of nowhere in response and landed on the post beside him. Edward handed Sock the scrap of paper he had written on.

“Here, you know what to do.” With a nod of his head, he sent the owl off on his first delivery. Once the bird was out of sight, Edward took in a deep breath of the crisp night air. Though it was dark, the moon lit up the roads showing him the way towards the station. It was going to be a long night and he knew he better get walking if he wanted to make the train.

…………

Somewhere in the depths of Paris a sawhet owl delivered a letter.

“Nick! You got a letter!”

“Who is it from, dear?”

“It doesn’t say.”

“What does it read?” The man asked and the elderly woman delicately handed him a crumpled scrap of what he presumed was a letter. He looked if over and he felt his throat tighten with a fearful chuckle. In scribbled writing, difficult to read, he could read only three sentences.

Fuck you. I will be there for Monday dinner. I am bringing stew.

“Yes. That is Paracelsus.”

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 21

The Old Apprentice

Edward’s worries about Flamel’s letter did not leave him when he returned to Diagon Alley nor for the few days following. The walk back from the Burrow to the train station helped him clear the fog from his mind but he still felt it weighing down on him the next morning when he returned to the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office to finish the paperwork that Arthur had started with him. They completed the work in relative silence, but Arthur was sure to add in his usual chipper small talk as the occasional distraction to which Edward was grateful. They finished up the papers that they needed to for the registry of the Mask and parted ways only after Arthur offered out a caring hand for him to shake.

“Edward, I do hope you stop by again soon. If you need anything, Molly and I are here for you.” Very few people cared for him enough to offer him help. Fewer people meant the help that they offered. However, Arthur was a good man. Those words meant more to Edward than the young wizard could ever know. Edward smiled in appreciation and returned the offered handshake, wishing him and his family well. Though the Weasleys were the kindest people he had encountered in over a century, he had a feeling that he would not be seeing them again in their lifetime.

Come Monday morning Edward found himself standing outside of Ollivander’s wand shop waiting for the cooky old man to open the door. With the quick dismissal and the rushed order, he didn’t know what to expect from his wand or the wandmaker. Everyone in the stone was excited for him to pick up magic again. Though Edward held disdain for the practice ever since the 13^th century when he watched his best friend get decapitated for a simple magic mistake, he was eager to get his wand more for the practicality of travel. His efforts the last 600 years in chasing Flamel were hindered without his wand, though that didn’t stop him from cornering the man several times.

After another knock on the shop door, it swung open, and Edward was yanked inside before he could even blink.

“Good, good, good,” he heard Garrick mutter to himself as Edward regained his senses in the dimly lit shop. The lights were not all on yet as it seemed he hadn’t opened his shop to the public. Edward suspected that the man had closed his services down for the last few days just for his wand. The man was clearly obsessed with his latest project.

Garrick grabbed a small box from the back workbench of his shop and scuttled his way to the front of the shop. He handed the box gingerly to Edward to open.

“This one I believe will suit you very well. Very powerful and well-balanced wand-“

“Powerful? I need one that will absorb my energy, not make it stronger,” Edward said as he opened the box to look at the wand that the man had eagerly made him.

“Not absorb, match. Your peculiarities might produce a lot of energy, yes, but like a loud instrument, you just need something that will sing in tune with you. Gwenoviere’s wand was well-suited for you when you were first learning magic. Spouts here and there can be uncontrollable to the untrained hand. She did a wonderful job. Now, you are experienced. This should suit you better,” he clarified.

 Edward was skeptical but that did make sense. Magic for young users could be fickle and volatile. Random bursts of magic proved dangerous and were difficult to control when students were just learning. Edward’s bursts were more dangerous and lethal than the average student and if he didn’t have a wand strong enough to absorb it, he could pose a risk to those around him. Now, though he spent several hundred years without a wand, he knew magic more than any wizard alive. He could control the tenacity of inborn magic.

“What is it made of?” he asked curiously as he looked at the wand that remained in the box. The craftsmanship was remarkable. The wood was a beautiful deep color carved into geometrical shards. Edward would have compared it to the crystalline structure of a stone emerging from the handle towards the tip of the wand. Despite it being a rush order, the intricate detail made Edward realize how much care and pride Garrick took in his work.

“It is yew 13 ½  inches, delicate, with Augrey feather.”

“The Irish phoenix?” he questioned.

“Yes. I had only one left but if it didn’t go to you, there was no one that would fit it. Augreys are-“

“Known for predicting death.“

“Known for being misunderstood,” the man corrected him. Edward looked up from the wand in shock. Garrick smiled at him kindly with a knowing eye. “It seems you have the unfortunate habit of carrying a reputation that doesn’t suit you. Makes things difficult, doesn’t it?”

“But… how…” Edward stumbled as he didn’t understand how the wandmaker could have made that assumption after only a few measly minutes of interaction.

“I might be centuries younger than you, but I have seen many people come in and out of my shop asking for a wand but looking for answers. It has made me very insightful to the needs of others,” the man explained. “I have heard about you in books and from word of mouth. Menacing, apathetic, dangerous, I have heard it all and yet have seen none of it.”

“Its… my presence is… intimidating being… well… me,” he stumbled still in thought.

“It would seem immortality has its drawbacks.”

“It only has drawbacks,” Edward admitted. “But even with all of this… how do you know that the wand would work?” Despite the wand being beautifully made and tailored to him, Edward refused to touch it. The last time he picked up a new wand, he leveled the alley. With it being more populated now than in the 10^th century, he couldn’t risk a single miscalculation in the wand’s structure.

“Everything is balanced to my best calculations and experience. However, I understand your concerns. If you would like to come with me and test it?” the man offered. Edward nodded his head and Garrick giddily bounced over to the door and grabbed his coat. After exiting the shop and locking it behind them, Edward heard a loud pop and a pull behind his nasals before he found himself standing in the middle of a wheat field. He looked around in awe of the scenery before him. The large field was abandoned of all life except the two of them. It sat nestled between a beautiful curving range of mountains. Edward would have guessed that they were somewhere in the Alps.

“I believe that this is well suited for good wand testing. Now, give it a go. Let’s see!” the man announced eagerly. It seemed he wanted nothing more than to see his work in action. Edward was hesitant to grab his wand since Garrick was still a bystander who could get caught in the carnage if it all went to hell, but he knew that fighting the man would have gotten him nowhere. He had seen people entranced by their obsessions just as Garrick was with wands. There was no swaying them. Gwenoviere had been the same way.

Edward delicately lifted the wand out of the box and held it in front of him. It had been ages since he had used magic. He wondered where he should start. With an idea in his head, Edward closed his eyes and concentrated. A flick of his wand and he felt a warmth arise in himself and flow through him out of the wand. It was a feeling that he had forgotten over the years. It was the feeling of magic.

The energy ebbed out of him in waves, and he opened his eyes to see a mass of silver spat out of his wand.  A long silver form slithered through the air and twirled itself around him happily. The Occamy beat its wings and flew up into the air before disappearing into a cloud of stardust.  Edward found himself smiling in awe at where his Patronus disappeared to. It had been ages since he had cast it, let alone thought of the memory that he used to bring it about. It drew a small tear to his eye that he quickly blinked away as he regained his senses.

“Yes, uh.. I think it works,” he said meekly. “You truly are a great wand maker. How much do I owe you for this?”

“I match wizards to wands, Paracelsus. I have been doing so for a very long time and I have yet to find anyone who has attuned to their wand so effortlessly and beautifully as that,” Garrick said. His voice was barely above a whisper as he seemed to still be in shock at the spell that Edward had cast. A shake of his head seemed to get his wits about him, and he returned to his giddy self.

“Wonderful. Wonderful! Truly Marvelous. Now I wonder if….” Garrick started muttering calculations to himself under his breath as it seemed he was already starting to design his next wand. He paced for a second in thought before whipping out his wand and instantly apparating away without another word to him. Edward stared at the empty space utterly confused as to what had happened. He glanced around but he was left alone by himself in the middle of an abandoned field.

“What just happened?” his brother asked. He was just as confused as he was.

“I have no idea,” Edward muttered under his breath. “Reminds me of Winry and her automail.”

“What?! He does not!” she argued back.

“Just like that time, you fixed my leg and then instantly went off to design a swim model before I could even pay you or Granny. Gear obsessed,” he teased with a smirk. Winry stumbled to defend herself, but it only made Edward laugh.

“So, what now?” Roy asked him after their argument settled down. Edward sighed and looked at the landscape around him as he tried to steel himself for what he knew was next.

“Now, we see my old student,” he answered.

“What are you planning on doing when you see him?” Edward shrugged.

“Have dinner and a long overdue lecture,” he stated simply. He lifted his new wand and with a destination in mind there was a loud pop, and the field was left empty.

…………..

Edward returned to Diagon Alley and checked out of his room at the Leaky Cauldron. He grabbed the pot of stew that he had convinced the inn to let simmer for a little while and subsequently released Sock to deliver a rather hefty pouch of coins to the Wandmaker as a grateful payment for his work. With that done, he said goodbye to London and with a swish of his wand found himself in the city streets of Paris.

“I forgot how easy it was to travel with magic,” Edward noted as he saw Paris in the first time in over a hundred years. Travel was faster than it had ever been in the modern age, but magic was instantaneous. It would have taken him several hours to go from England to France if all of his connecting lines were on time. With magic he was there in seconds. He wondered how much time of his life he had wasted just getting train or plane tickets when he could have used magic all of these years.

“It might be easier but you miss a lot of the things worth living when you teleport yourself,” Alphonse said wisely.

“I guess you are right. The last time I was in France I took the wrong train line and met Mr. Daguerre. Got the first photograph in this universe,” Edward muttered as he remembered his misadventures during his travels.

“What? You never told me that!” Alphonse gasped. It was then that Edward remembered that for most of his travels, his brother was not there. Alphonse along with many of the other souls were trapped in Flamel’s portion of the stone. As Edward wandered the streets of Paris towards his destination, he told his brother the story of his intervention with the first human photograph among other things he had experienced.

A few tall tales later, Edward was standing on the doorstep of 51 rue de Montmorency, the address that Flamel had so willingly given now that he had wanted to be found. He looked up at the door and he felt the light and happy demeanor that he held telling his brother stories had flown out the window. He was left with only a frown and bore a headache of aggravation and grief.

“Are you going to be alright doing this? You don’t have to give him closure for what he did to you.”

“I ain’t here to give him jack shit for what he did to us,” Edward replied to Winry. “I am here because my student is dying. As much as a bastard as he is, he requested a conversation. He probably doesn’t have many more left.”

With that and a deep breath, Edward knocked on the door of the large stone house. A scuffle later, he heard the latch on the door release, and it swung open not to reveal Nicolas, but rather an old greying lady; his wife, Perenelle.

“Hello, Paracelsus, you are looking not a day over 16,” she said flatly with disdain. She spoke in English despite a heavy French accent filling her voice.

“Hello, Perenelle, you are not looking a day over 662,” Edward gritted back in the same manner. Unlike Nicolas, there was never a single point in time he had gotten along with Perenelle for the sole reason that her attitude was exactly like his. However, as he was visiting, he spoke French to ease their conversation a bit.

“Who is at the door, Pernie?” a voice called from somewhere deep in the house.

“Who the bloody hell do you think it is you fucking skelpie-limmer? The goddamn mailman?” Edward roared back. Perenelle sighed and rolled her eyes as she stepped away from the door and let him in. Despite the obvious tension, Edward thanked her before storming into their house.

It was easy enough to find Nicolas. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading through an old book. He was old as the years had aged him even with the stone. His once tight-cut brown hair now was a white curtain hanging to his shoulders. His tan skin had gone pale and wrinkles of years gone past were pressed into him. The creaky bones and aching pains of the elderly was something that Edward never got to experience and never will. He found himself mildly jealous. As Edward entered, the man watched him with dread despite being the one to ask for his presence. He stood up to try and say something, but Edward shot him a dirty glare.

“Set the goddamn table, you lazy bastard. I didn’t come to dinner to set the table myself,” he scolded him and, like a child, the man scuttled to the kitchen without a word and began pulling down the plates. Edward went over to the stove and set the pot of stew on top and quickly lighted it. Though the pot was still warm from where it had been heated in the Leaky Cauldron, a little more warmth wouldn’t do it harm.

He didn’t say a single thing to his student as the table and meal were prepped. Both Nicolas and Perenelle seemed to know better than to try and strike up a conversation with him at that moment. Once the table was set, they waited quietly until it was served. Edward dished out the bowls and gave it to them along with a couple of pieces of bread and butter to help it go down. He sat at the head of the table next to them. As they began their meals, they were able to settle into the silence in peace.

“I have always liked your stew,” Nicolas mused softly.

“Of course, that is why I brought it,” Edward said.

“I don’t think I have had it in centuries.”

“605 years to be exact,” he muttered, “but who’s counting.”

“You obviously are,” Perenelle retorted.

“It’s hard not to.” Their horrible attempt at small talk cut off and they were sent back into silence again. They quietly finished their meals. Soon, Edward cleared the empty dishes and rested them in the sink. Nicolas got up to help him but he pointed back to his chair to order him to sit back down. They can wash the dishes after they talk. Edward returned to the table and sat back down. His nerves steeled themselves for the conversation that he knew Nicolas called him for.

“Now, let’s get as to why I am here,” Edward said after allowing a few moments. “You know, don’t you? You figured it out.” Nicolas shifted uncomfortably in his seat as if he was a child who was caught in a lie. He nodded his head.

“Yes. I do,” he answered truthfully. “That is why I returned the stone to Hogwarts. I couldn’t bear it any longer.”

“Yes, human souls are the only thing that can get around the laws of alchemy, the laws of the universe. Materials and reactions can be weighed and calculated. The value of a human life? Immeasurable. Equivalent exchange at its finest.”

“You monster,” he heard Perenelle whisper. She stared at him in disgust. Edward only arched his brow in her direction, asking her to continue. “You know these are human lives. You know and you continue to use the stone.”

“I continue to have the stone because I know what it is made of,” Edward countered which shocked his students. At that moment, the term ‘monster’ seemed to fit him in their eyes. Edward knew the difference in his actions as to theirs and others, though he didn’t completely dismiss the term from his mind.

“You are not a monster,” he heard Winry say. He didn’t reply.

“I didn’t make the stone,” he started again. “It was forced onto me. I know what it is made of and I know that these souls, these people, are still alive. I have been working my entire life to try and return them back to their bodies, back home. You two and your foolish wants have been a pain in my side for the last half of this millennia. Chasing you down to recover them, my friends, my family, has not only wasted my time but also killed many of them just to make your stupid ‘Elixir of Life’.”

“A-alive?” the kid gasped. “How are they still alive? You need a body and a spirit to make something.”

“Their bodies and spirits are in another place but not dead. Their souls have simply been displaced.”

“So you’re saying that in using the stone we…,” Perenelle started but couldn’t finish. Edward nodded his head. Yes. In using the stone all three of them that sat there were in some capacity murderers, whether they knew it or not.  

“Here,” Edward said as he got up from his chair. “I have someone you need to meet.” He clapped his hands and drew a black suit of armor from the stone floors of their house. Where most wizards looked on in amazement at alchemy’s unique peculiarities, his student and his wife looked on with familiar recollection. Another clap of his hands and Edward cast a soul into the armor which shook to life after a moment.

“Nick, Perenelle, this is Colonel Roy Mustang.” The two of them meekly said their hellos as the shock of a live suit of armor got to them.

“But… human transmutation. I thought it was impossible,” Nicolas stated. “I thought your armors were simply enchantments not… not this.”

“Human transmutation is impossible, you idiot. Did I teach you nothing?” Edward growled as he dropped back into his seat. “He is one of my friends. His soul was in the stone with no spirit connecting him to a physical body in this universe. I used a sliver of my own and casted him out into the armor. He is simply an extension of myself and the stone.” Nicolas seemed so intrigued. Edward had to guess that if he had a pen he would have been taking fervish notes on the matter at hand.

“I might be an extension, but I am very real,” Roy gritted, “and so are my friends that you killed in your stupid escapade.”

“Mustang here can explain to you exactly what the hell you did to us that night. That’s what you wanted of me, right? To hopefully clear your conscious and tell you that using the stone isn’t as bad as you think it was. That may be, you have done some right in using it for your own gain,” Edward said harshly. “With the stone, you can’t have a clear conscious. You can only understand what you did and hopefully, after we explain, accept that you have done so.”

Dread crossed both Nicolas and Perenelle’s faces as they looked at each other. Here, on what someone could imagine to be their deathbed, they had called Edward to ease their worries. He came to tell them the truth. An old teacher to his student was going to teach one final lesson on alchemy and morality. One that will hopefully stick for the last few moments of that man’s life. After a comforting look towards each other, Nicolas nodded his head towards Edward in acceptance. They would know, and for once they would learn.

Edward sat back in his chair and motioned for Mustang to begin.

“The day you took the stone, you killed my Lieutenant.”

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 22

The Last Wish

“You have the worse sleep habits on the face of the planet,” Roy scolded Edward as he rolled himself out of bed around noon. The burning sun was shining through his window and warmed the house in its gentle glow. Edward found it beautiful and relaxing but it was hard to enjoy it when there was a nagging voice in his ear.

“It isn’t like they invented alarm clocks yet,” Edward grumbled as he hopped over to the small stove that he had as a kitchen and heated up a pot of water for herbal tea.

“You can make one you know. You made your own automail, you can make a clock,” Winry commented. Edward rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea. It was 1360 and his favorite drinks, coffee and true tea, had yet to be publicly traded. No one in Europe had discovered the joys of caffeine yet and were stuck to boiling herbs and other botanicals to make a nice remedy. Professor Hufflepuff had shown him many tea recipes which he still used, but he longed for the day coffee would be made publicly available.

Edward began his morning routine which entailed him grabbing a copy of his journal and sitting outside to enjoy the summer air. His house was located in the middle of Siberia which was a hostile and inhabitable area for most, but to him, it was a sanctuary. After dealing with the bigoted buffoonery that the wizards and muggles had set upon the world, he needed to leave. Though he couldn’t go home, he could go where no one would find him. There, he built his house.

The house was in a circular clearing of trees that had developed into a meadow over the past few years. With the weather and protection runes, he placed around the plot, flowers, and crops could grow in even the harshest winters. The house itself was built into the ground on a raised hill. He had lifted the earth with alchemy but had built the structure by hand. He made it his, though it never felt like home.

For 70 years he lived and worked there, seldomly going down to the village a few miles off the mountainside to get produce, find updated texts, or check in on whether coffee had been discovered yet. For all of those years, he was more or less by himself and that was enough for him. Sitting outside he had relished in the quiet sanctity the woods had given him. The rustling wind through the trees relaxed him and set his running nerves at ease. The wizarding world had run him into the ground and he was glad to be done with it. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world was not done with him.

There was a snapping of a twig and thudding footsteps of something stumbling through the woods. Edward would have normally dismissed it as an animal but the curses that flew out of the woods were distinctively human. A wash of dread went through him.

“Fuck, no,” he gasped and jolted to his feet as he kept his eyes peeled on the wood line.

“Brother, what’s going on?” Alphonse asked as his sudden change of demeanor startled the souls within the stone.

“Someone’s here.”

“Hello? Is there someone there?” Edward heard a voice call out to him oddly in French. After a few more snapping twigs and a curse, a man stumbled out of the woods.

Now, this person was nothing exceptional to look at. He appeared to be just bridging out of his twenties. He was dressed in rugged and worn hiking garb, his brown hair cast in disarray from the rigorous hike he had just gone through to get up there. He looked pitiful and could be disregarded in most crowds except Edward knew that was not the case. No one hiked that mountain unless they wanted something. The only thing to want up there was Edward himself.

After catching his breath, the man caught sight of where Edward stood frozen outside of his house. He became flustered and the man quickly tried to straighten himself out. The movement only put Edward more on guard.

“Uh, hello! I was wondering if you knew where I could find a Paracelsus. He was supposed to live near here,” the man asked.

“Who are you?” His language caught the man off guard.

“Oh, you are English,” the man said changing his language appropriately. It seemed his accent got the better of him. “I’m Nicolas Flamel.”

“You are trespassing,” Edward said stiffly as he adjusted himself to the variant of Amestrian.

“I am lost. If your father gets home maybe, he can help me. I was just looking for-“

“I know who you are looking for and I don’t care. You are trespassing. Leave,” he growled at him as he stormed his way back towards his front door. The man trailed behind him, still begging him to be merciful.

“Please, I have been searching for him for a long time. I need to-“

“Everyone is looking for him. ‘Please we need to find the wizard, Paracelsus’ or ‘Oh we need Paracelsus to make us gold’. Oh! How about this one, ‘We need Paracelsus to teach us immortality,’” Edward mocked. “Save your breath and fuck off my land. You won’t find any wizards here.”

“That is no way for a kid to talk to-“

“I can talk to you however I want because you are on my property,” Edward growled as he opened the door to his house. The strange man hovered over him pitifully. It seemed that he was hoping he had a change of heart. He hadn’t.

“Can’t you just get your father so that I could have a rational conversation with him?” Nicolas asked. Edward turned around in the doorway and smiled innocently at the man.

“You know what? You are right. I’ll tell you what. You can wait out here for my father to come back. He would be able to explain how trespassing is not welcome here better than I can,” he said in false sincerity. The look on Nicolas’ face brightened up at his words.

“Really?” he asked hopefully but before he could even continue the conversation, Edward slammed the door in his face and locked it behind him. There were several knocks on the door as the man named Flamel tried to ask more questions but eventually, they went silent. Edward let out a heavy sigh and leaned against the door. Laughter in the stone eased his mind.

“Are you really going to let him wait out there forever?” Hohenheim asked in disbelief. He shrugged as he moved his way to settle into his study and lab.

“I give him two hours before he gets tired and leaves,” he said.

“I bet four,” Alphonse said. “Got to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“What do you wager?” Edward chuckled.

“I won’t pester you to get a cat for ten years.”

“I will hold you to it.”

………….

To Edward’s dismay, the man was still there six hours later when he emerged from his home to grab some firewood from his dwindling pile. He had made himself comfortable in the rocking chair on his front patio. The man confirmed himself a wizard as Edward saw the wand hover above his hand and spin pointlessly in every direction. It was the pinpointing charm, useless for the name Paracelsus and doubly so within his protection runes.

“Oi, what the hell are you still doing here?” Edward barked as he gave his chair a kick causing the man to roll pathetically out of it. “Go home. Your stupid magic won’t work here so don’t bother.”

“Do you know when your father will be home? I am hoping to ask him a few questions.”

“How should I know? I am just a stupid kid. Now go away,” he blunted and watched Nicolas’ heart fall. Edward turned his back to the man and started to pick up firewood to take inside. He noted that he would need to make more tomorrow as it was getting pretty low. As he was stacking wood into his arms, he felt the nagging presence of the man behind him. He was hovering.

 “What?” he groaned as he sent him a glare over his shoulder.

“You don’t have a father, do you?”

“Wow, what on earth gave that away?” he grumbled.

“So this is your house?”

“Fuck out of my way, Sherlock.” Nicolas kindly took a couple of steps back to allow him back to his door. As Edward was loading the firewood into his house, the man didn’t say another word. His spirits were bum hurt and the night was growing long and cold. Edward rolled his eyes. It was no better than having a pouting puppy on his doorstep.

“Brother, you should at least give him a blanket or something.”

“I ain’t giving him shit for making his own stupid decision,” Edward grumbled under his breath. He returned outside for another stack of wood and could feel the watchful eyes of Flamel trace his movements. It was getting on his nerves more than the constant whining. Before he could take the wood back inside again, he felt his will break and he turned around and glared at the pitiful man in front of him.

“Why the hell do you want Paracelsus anyways?” he interrogated the poor man.

“I heard he knew alchemy. I want to learn.”

“That’s a bullshit answer. Of course, everyone who meets him wants to learn alchemy. What do you really want?”

“It’s the honest truth.” Edward scoffed at him and returned to his house and locked the door behind him once more.

………….

The next morning Edward got up early. Mustang had taken it upon himself to be his new alarm clock and the stone wasn’t one for a snooze button. He groaned tiredly and set about his morning routine once more counting down the days till Europe discovers caffeine. He downed his cup of herbal tea and grabbed his work gloves before heading outside. The instant he stepped outside, he cursed as he saw a now unfortunately familiar man shadowing his doorstep.

“Go away!” Edward yelled in French, hoping that the man’s native tongue would have a greater impact. It didn’t. The man startled awake, and Edward had half the mind to pull his chair inside just to prevent the man from using it as his next bed.

“Bonjour,” Nicolas yawned tiredly, unaware as to his surroundings as he blinked the morning sand from his eyes. Edward rolled his eyes as he put on his work gloves and grabbed his wood splitter and chopping axe from the side of his house.

“If I come back and you are still around, I am going to snap your wand in two,” Edward threatened as he heaved both the tools over his shoulder and headed into the woods. He retraced his steps towards where he had remembered passing a newly fallen tree. It was a bit of a walk but he knew these woods like the back of his hand and found it with ease. The fallen tree lay right beyond his protection circle. The instant he stepped through, the air changed to cool but not unbearable for a Siberian summer.

Edward dropped the splitter by a nearby tree and began hacking away at the fallen Larch with his axe. As he worked he easily began to separate the better-sized logs into a growing pile to haul back with him. The busy work was welcome, and he always looked forward to odd chores like this to keep his mind preoccupied. Unfortunately, he couldn’t fully enjoy it when he had the nuisance trying to interrogate him.

“Are you Paracelsus?” he heard Nicolas ask. The man had not taken his warning and had followed him, at a safe distance, to his lumber site. Edward put down his axe for a breath and turned around to glare at the man in disbelief.

“You are not going to leave this alone.”

“No, I am not.”

“You are very annoying.”

“Reminds me of two young alchemists I knew,” he heard Izumi laugh from the stone. Edward didn’t hear a lot from her but when he did it always made him grateful. He knew she was right. Edward and Alphonse hung onto Izumi like glue when they realized she was an alchemist. Even when she tried to literally shake them off her, they did not leave. If Edward believed in fate, he would assume now it was doing it to him. However, his position was quite different than those circumstances back in Amestris.

“Are you Paracelsus?” Nicolas asked again in earnest. Edward walked over to where the man was standing and eyed him. Having not cleaned up from his hike there, the man was still in disarray. It seemed he took more focus on his work than his appearance and his current work was finding an immortal alchemist. Edward reached down to the tree next to them and picked up the wood splitter. Nicolas restrained a flinch as he remembered the threat Edward had given him prior. After another careful study of him, he shoved the splitter into the man’s hands.

“If you want to ask questions, you are going to work,” Edward ordered.

“So, you are Paracelsus.” Nicolas accepted his dodging statement as the answer to his question. Edward scoffed.

“Split the logs into firewood,” he said without acknowledgment. He turned his back on the confused man and returned to the fallen tree where he picked up his axe once more. He started chopping but was startled when the pile of fresh-cut logs beside him began floating and splitting themselves. Nicolas was standing there waving his wand in the air like a lazy buffoon.

“Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck do you think you are doing?” Edward scolded and threw his own axe to the ground.

“Spitting wood like you asked,” Nicolas answered dumbly.

“Quit spewing magic out of your lazy cumberground ass!” The man looked around confused.

“Why? It will get the work done much faster and-“

“A lesson without pain is not one to be taught. When you take the fast way, the only thing you learn is how to be lazy. So quit being a pain in my ass and either put the work in or stop demanding something you can’t handle!” he berated harshly.

“But… I don’t know how to use this muggle tool-“

“Then figure it out, but like hell I am going to stand here and let you bibbity boppity yourself whatever you want. The world doesn’t work like that. Try again.”

“The wizarding world does-“

“And that is why you have an entire governance of grown children trying run the magical community.” Nicolas looked taken aback and offended. Good. Edward returned once more to the tree and began chopping. To his relief, he didn’t see any of the logs try to fly themselves around the woods. Instead, he saw Nicolas study the wood splitter in his hands and try to mimic him to break the logs in front of him apart. He was right, he didn’t know how to use an axe as he probably came from the cities of France, but Edward let him figure that out for himself.

They worked in silence for a bit as they each tried to get comfortable in each other’s presence. Eventually, when Nicolas started to make progress on his pile, he started to ask the dreaded questions.

“So, you are Paracelsus. How old are you?” the man heaved. He spoke in French as it seemed splitting wood and translating were too complex for him to handle at the same time.

“Never ask an older man his age,” he returned.

“You know alchemy?”

“Duh.”

“Will you teach me?”

“You know I didn’t move to the middle of nowhere to become the ‘wise man on a hill’ cliché,” Edward grumbled. “I want my solitude.”

“Why?”

“Because I was tired of dumbasses like you demanding alchemy from me and watching the world tear itself apart to get it. You don’t need alchemy.”

“You have a very foul mouth.”

“I can swear in over 200 languages,” Edward smirked making Nicolas laugh.

 They took a few moments to continue their work. Nicolas was slowly getting the hang of it but still missed his mark more times than not. Edward took a second to show him the proper motion. For a man with a lack of tact, he got the hang of it quickly.

“Why do you want to learn alchemy?” he eventually asked the man. Unlike the night prior, Nicolas gave his answer some thought and took a moment to himself. Eventually, he shrugged.

“You are right about some of the wizarding world. It has gotten very chaotic and it’s very hard to find a spot in it when everyone’s inventing new spells and changing the rules. I heard about the apparent laws and order to alchemy. I guess I just wanted to find something that I could understand,” he answered honestly. “I am also a writer by trade and alchemy, being a relatively unexplored field, would also benefit me in that way.”

Edward wanted to call his little speech a lie, but he couldn’t. All wizards that he had met didn’t care about rules and laws. That was one of the reasons why alchemy was never successful in their world. They were too chaos bound. No one seemed to understand why there was a reason for rules and laws. Nicolas though, seemed to want to try.

“Why should I teach you alchemy?” Edward asked slowly. There was silence in the stone as they seemed to realize what he was considering.

“You’re going to teach him?” he heard Alphonse ask in disbelief. “I thought you gave up on the wizarding world.”

“Edward, are you sure of this?” Hawkeye asked. “Taking on a student is a commitment to character. It’s not something to take lightly.” Edward didn’t answer as his attention remained fully on the useless man in front of him. Nicolas thought carefully but seemed to disregard what he was planning to say and just went with his gut.

“Because I want to learn,” he said simply. Edward closed his eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. Voices in the stone filled his ears with a gentle roar as they argued and debated with each other the idea of him teaching. He had never taken an apprentice and after trying to explain the basics of alchemy to the wizarding world before, he never thought he would. However, something about the pitiful man in front of him had him changing his mind. He didn’t know what it was, though he refused to call it fate, but something was telling him to try.

Edward collected his axes and bundled up the wood between the rope that he used as a wood carrier. He hauled their work onto his back to take to the house. He paused once more in front of Nicolas and looked him over one final time. The air of determination around him was invigorating and Edward knew that the man wasn’t going to go half in.

“Equivalent Exchange,” Edward sternly said. “Live it.”

……….

The years went by and Edward taught Nicolas the basics all the way to advanced alchemy. He absorbed knowledge like it was fine wine and learned quickly. He had a knack for water-based reactions which meant that Edward routinely had to call back on some of the alchemists in the stone to build his own knowledge in that field. Nicolas would hike the mountain daily to reach his house from the small town at the base. It was a rough routine, but Edward saw him grow up from the child the wizarding world had made him into that of a respected man.

Over the years, Nicolas got married and his wife. Perenelle visited infrequently but dabbled here and there in alchemy of her own sorts. As they got older, Edward again did not. They bore wrinkles and sun spots, while he remained like he was the first day Nicolas met him. They grew together and had kids back in France, apparating to and from the base of the mountain every lesson day. They lived a life, where Edward simply lived.

Eventually, as Edward’s teachings transformed into research, he saw the man become curiously desperate. He would walk into the study and see Nicolas using his wand with an alchemical circle. He would hear Nicolas begin to talk about more and more outrageous ideas that teetered too closely to the edges of exchange for him to be comfortable with it. At one point he walked into the lab to see Nicolas holding the iron mask in his hands from where it was stored in the locked cabinet of his drawer.

“Put that down,” Edward seethed. Nicolas looked back at him.

“It’s very peculiar,” he noted as he flipped the mask around in his hands to investigate further. “I don’t understand why someone would make it-“

“Nicolas Flamel of Pontoise, you will unhand that mask or so help Truth itself will not be able to distinguish you from the sludge at the bottom of the lake.” Nicolas looked shocked not at the threat but at the completely calm and level way that Edward had breathed it. He hesitantly set the mask down and took a step away like a little child being scolded by their parent.

“Get out,” Edward whispered.

“But-“

“OUT!”

Arguments like that became more frequent the more curious Flamel got. Edward had always known that with the knowledge of alchemy, questions about the stone and his immortality would be inevitable. However, the older he became, the more serious those questions got, and the more unwilling Edward was to answer them. Then when Flamel turned 60, he heard him say Perenelle had the swelling, known more commonly to Edward as cancer. Flamel begged him to help her, and Edward did but not in the capacity that his student had wanted. He had wanted the stone.

Months went by since the discovery of Perenelle’s illness and the two of them found themselves like they usually did in the lab late one night. Edward was focused on his notes and brainstormed ideas of traveling through the gate. He was hitting snag after snag as he didn’t know how to get through the gate back to the appropriate time nor did he know of an equivalency without the stone. The conversation within the stone was circular like it always was as they all discussed previously determined dead ends as if they would suddenly become the answer. He was head-deep in his conversation when he heard Flamel call out to him.

“Paracelsus.”

“Yeah?” Edward didn’t look back at his student as he studied his wall of notes.

“Please,” he heard Flamel beg him once more. The pain in his voice hurt Edward to hear, but that was life. “Please can’t you help Perenelle? She doesn’t have long. She’s going to die.”

“Equivalent exchange,” Edward replied just as he had all the other times his student had asked. “A life for a life. There is nothing in the stone that can help her without killing someone else. I cannot do that.”

“But you have endless amounts of life. You are freaking immortal, Paracelsus! That stone can get around the law!” Flamel cried hysterically.

“And I am telling you for the final time that the stone does not go around the law. It obeys the law just like anything else in this damn universe. I will not continue this conversation because my answer will not change! I will not kill someone for another. I cannot do it!” Edward scolded his student. He turned around to only freeze as he saw his apprentice standing stiffly across from him. In one hand he held the sword of Gryffindor that Edward usually kept on the wall and in the other he held the horrid mask. The usual curiosity had drained from his face and in its place was a dark-set determination. Edward’s blood ran cold.

“Nick?” he breathed, his voice hitching on the sudden confusion and fear he felt.

“I can’t live without her, Paracelsus. Please,” he heard the man beg for what Edward expected was one final time. He wanted to try and talk his student down but he couldn’t move. The terror of the mask had left him a statue. The worried voices in the stone started to ignite and yelled at him to move but only ice filled his veins. The only thing he could do was shake his head.

“I am sorry,” was all Flamel said before he thrusted the sword at him. Edward snapped out of his frozen state too late to stop the sword from plunging into his abdomen. The blade that Edward had used in battle to protect himself, ran him through and the tip buried into the earthen wall behind him. He gasped in shock at the horribly familiar feeling and began to choke as blood filled his lungs. The red light of the stone burst around the wound but was in vain as the sword was not removed.

“N-nick-“ Edward choked as he stared at his student in shock. Flamel grabbed a hold of his automail hand before he could clap them together and pinned it to the wall. On his students free hand he saw a delicately inked transmutation circle drawn with the symbol of sulfur mixed with the water-based symbols for blood. His eyes widened.

This wasn’t some emotional outlash from a hurt child, this was a thought-through act of betrayal.

 Flamel slapped his transmutation circle to his festering wound and Edward gasped as he felt a pull on his chest, on the stone. Flamel began draining him right from his wound. He fought and struggled against his student but with every move he made, the sword cut deeper and the transmutation only drew more of the stone from him. He heard the horrified cries of his friends as they left him one by one before they were silenced.

“Lieutneant! No! Lieutenant!”

“Brother! Ed!” he heard Alphonse cry before his voice suddenly disappeared. He struggled to cry for his brother but only blood came out as he began to suffocate. The red lights around the sword grew brighter and brighter as it tried to heal him. The chaos of the stone deafened him in pain as Flamel pulled away, a small red rock in his hand signifying a successful transmutation. Edward watched as it was slid into the man’s pocket without thought as to what he was holding.

“I didn’t take all of it. See? Both you and Perenelle can live,” Flamel said in false hope. His voice was wet as the man was crying through his bloody act of betrayal. Edward opened his mouth to argue but only a waterfall of blood escaped him.

“You both can live, but I can’t fight you Paracelsus. I can’t have you following me.” Flamel raised the mask and Edward saw the horribly familiar carvings on the inside. He thrashed and fought as he never felt himself before as tears filled his eyes. The betrayal felt like another sword was stabbed into him as he mentally begged his apprentice not to do it, but too easily did the mask slide over his face. The roaring screams of the stone went silent and the red alchemic lights around his wound died down. He felt his breath hitch as the stone stopped repairing his lungs and he choked on his own blood.

Flamel withdrew the sword from him and Edward felt his body collapse to the ground and convulsed before suddenly he was still. He could not move. Edward’s body died and he was left a soul entrapped in the prison of his own corpse.

Flamel dropped the sword to the ground and wept. Apologies and repentance were prayed to dead ears and cold hearts. Paracelsus was dead.

…….

The next thing Edward knew he had awoken in a tomb with two grave robbers standing over him with a shovel and the mask in hand. The stone roared to life and rebuilt his decaying and wounded body to the terror of the robbers. He gasped for air as the souls in the stone wept in relief to see him back. Edward stumbled to his feet and crawled his way out of his own grave, only to collapse to the cemetery lawn next to his own headstone. The disorientation in the stone was making him dizzy. The lack of balance almost sent him rolling back into the earth.  

“Edward, are you alright?” he heard the focused voice of his father call out to him through the chaos of the stone. The voices did their best to settle themselves down, but Edward understood their struggle. Half of their family was gone. Half of the stone had been ripped from them; an event unprecedented.

Edward took a moment to calm and orient himself. He took a few deep breaths and looked around. It was night and he was in the local village’s cemetery in the pauper’s plot. The stone at this site read ‘Paracelsus, September 3rd, 992- July 30^th 1390.’ A fresh plot next to him bore a headstone that read 1392. He was dead for two years, a new record.

“That bastard,” he seethed as rage alone pushed him up to his feet. “I need a head count, now!” The stone quickly rattled the numbers that the souls had gathered in his death. They were missing a good portion of the stone, a mix of Xerxes and Amestrians gone, including his brother. He was going to ask who was used to heal him but he stopped as he felt the emotions in the stone sway to grief.

“Edward,” he heard Winry say quietly. She didn’t have to say anymore as he felt the swirling anguish emit from Mustang’s soul as well as those of their team. It was Lieutenant Hawkeye.

“She was stuck, fading, for two years until just now,” she explained softly. Her voice shook with the despair that was left over. Lieutenant Hawkeye was used to repair his wound, but unlike the previous quick repairs where a soul would be instantly absorbed by the reaction, her death was dragged out and put on display for the whole stone to watch. The reaction has frozen when the mask was put on him and only resumed when a couple of grave robbers decided to pinch the mask for a good dollar. Upon Edward rising out of his own grave, Hawkeye was finally sent to hers after two years of torture.

Edward felt his heart grow cold. He wanted to grieve and he wanted to mourn but he didn’t get to as the only thing he felt inside of himself was a painful fury. Flamel, the student he had spent the last thirty years teaching and watching grow, betrayed them, their trust, and their compassion. He had knowingly done so and had hurt not only Edward, but everyone in the stone and everyone he cared about. He had never felt this level of ire in his life.

He hissed as the anger boiled up inside of him and with a clap of his hands his tombstone was obliterated. A hushed anticipation swirled through the stone as they all waited to see what he would do. Edward stumbled around and snaggled the bloody mask from the ground where the robbers had dropped it in their flight. With it in hand he stormed his way back towards the mountainside, his feet scorching the earth in his anger.

“What are you going to do?” he heard Winry ask.

“Find Flamel and make him wish the stone could repair him after I am through with him,” Edward hissed.

He left the Cemetery in a much different state than when he had entered.

…………

Mustang told Flamel the events of that night in gruesome detail. He described how he watched his subordinate pass before his eyes, being woefully unable to save her. The suits of armor that the souls resided in could not feel, but the agonizing pain in Mustang’s voice was evident. Nicolas and his wife absorbed every single word of it and to their dismay, learned the impacts of their actions from the people who felt it the most.

After the explanation was finished, Edward watched the tortured expression on his student’s face change from despair, to grief, to regret, then finally to acceptance. There was nothing that Edward could do to clear the man’s conscious but at least now he understood the reasons for his guilt. It looked like he wanted to apologize for his actions, but there was nothing he could say that could fix or change what he had done. Nicolas seemed to know that even if he had offered and apology, Edward would never ever accept it.

Edward moved to leave but a frail hand rested on his making him pause. He glared back at Nicolas.

“This was what you called me for, wasn’t it? I have told you everything. You won’t get condolences from me.”

“Yes, but, Paracelsus-“

“It’s Edward, Edward Elric,” Edward corrected. Nicolas looked shocked that his name wasn’t what he had learned over the years but easily accepted the new change.

“Edward, I can’t apologize or atone for what I did but… I would like to help you go home.”

“That’s rich,” Edward growled. “What on earth do you think you can do that we haven’t tried already?”

“I don’t fully understand the concept of gates despite all the times you have tried to describe them to me. I don’t think it is something that one can understand without have the unfortunate experience of seeing it themselves. But there is a theory of ultimate equivalence that Perenelle had…. Pernie?” Nicolas gasped suddenly as his attention had been caught by his wife. Edward looked over and saw Perenelle sitting across from them, her eyes closed and body still. As he looked at her he saw a geometric fray on her skin. To some they might have mistaken it for another age line. Edward, however, saw it as a deteriorating alchemic reaction. Without the stone, they were falling apart.

“She’s dead,” he stated flatly, “and you are dying.” Nicolas trembled as sorrow for his lover filled him but he didn’t cry. They had all known that moment was coming eventually. They knew it before they took the stone just as they knew it now. Yet, even in knowing one could never be prepared for the deepening loss one’s absence brings about.

“Have you ever seen someone die and alchemic death before?” Edward asked, softly. Nicolas shook his head, so Edward continued. “In this universe, you will be the first and are quite lucky. It is probably the easiest way to go,” he said to ease his student’s worry.

“Unlike dying of old age where illness sets in and tortures your body into oblivion, an alchemic death is painless. While using the stone, your bodies have been fixed and preserved but your spirit and your souls are well worn. Once you stop using the stone, the frays on your spirit begin to snap and once the tension is too great your soul is released. You are free and simply drift out into nothing,” he explained. “You won’t feel it coming, but you will know that it is time.” The confusion and grief that Nicolas had for his now-deceased wife dissipated into contempt. He seemed happy and at ease with the thought that his wife passed in peace.

“How do you know this?” Nicolas asked quietly.  

“Because I have seen variations of it before, just not here,” he replied. Though he knew no one lived as long as they all had, he saw what the stone did. The homunculus frayed and shriveled to nothing once their stone was drained. Though some of the deaths were brutally won in battle, others simply faded into nothingness. Ling had told him the peace that Greed had felt upon his sacrifice to Father. Edward watched Envy cry in emotional anguish but not in pain upon his suicide. He, himself, had calculated the alchemical release of a soul upon death as he explored ways to take the stone home. He didn’t doubt for a second that once he returned to Amestris, both he and his father would see their own versions of an alchemic death. Their souls were just old and torn and the spirit that tethered them to their bodies had been stretched and worn thin.

“I hope Perenelle isn’t going to be waiting for me long.”

“She won’t,” Edward said knowingly. Nicolas nodded his head in acceptance. There was a short pause of silence as his student seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say. Knowing that his time was limited, he needed to choose what he wanted to say carefully as he didn’t have that many words left.

“Edward, I understand that I should not be asking you this but I would like to request that you would entertain my foolish semblance of a final wish,” Nicolas asked in his own humility. “I would like you to go back to Hogwarts.”

“That is one hell of a final request after you conspired with that fool Albus to trap me there,” he growled. His student grimaced in shame.

“I understand your reluctance to return and your reasonings to not meet my request, but I truly believe there is a way for you to go home there,” his student begged earnestly. “There is a prophecy-“

“That kid is-“

“Not Potter’s…. yours.” Edward frowned as the shock hit him. He didn’t believe in divinations to say the least which might have been the reason why he didn’t think that there could be any predictions set on his behalf. However, here his student was telling him that they weren’t just some tea leaf depictions, but an authentic prophecy set out for the Eastern Sage.

“I know it is hard for you to believe. You were never one for future magic,” Nicolas said calmly. “However, there is a prophecy about you going home.”

“But that’s impossible.”

“Albus has the prophecy. He should be able to explain it to you with some persuasion. However, the equivalency I remember you being so worked up about still needs to be answered,” he explained. “My wife said that she wished that she never had alchemy. I had said the same thing about magic. It all makes everything too complicated. There are people out there, muggles, who live peacefully without all of it. They live some of the most wonderfully ordinary yet amazing lives I have ever seen. It makes me wonder, what a cost someone would pay to have nothing extraordinary at all.”

Nicolas paused and hummed quietly to himself as he shakily brought his hand up to his chest. Something had changed.

“I do believe you are right. I don’t think my wife must wait much longer.” The sound in Nicolas’s voice was sad, but the expression on his face was one at peace. He was calm despite the ever-coming end. Nicolas’s eyes softened considerably as he looked upon his ancient teacher with the compassion that Edward hadn’t seen from anyone in years.

“I am sure that in your years, seeing someone younger go ahead of you has been an unfortunately common occurrence. You will get your time,” he whispered with a small smile on his face. His breathing was weak and feathery. The energy slowly drained out of the man in front of him as his skin cracked and frayed. The light in his eyes faded and Edward watched as his apprentice left him, yet his body remained seated at the table with a small grateful smile spread across his face.

Edward didn’t move from where he sat. He held no tears in his eyes. He simply looked his student over in finality. Nicolas and Perenelle were gone, having experienced what everyone in the world could only experience once. Dying.

“It’s okay to be jealous. You will follow eventually,” Hohenheim told him wisely from the stone. He had come by Nicolas’ request to answer a few questions in a final conversation. He intended to explain to his student the consequences of his actions and comfort him in facing the death he was scared of 600 years ago. However, in that moment, he had felt as if it was his student who had been trying to comfort him.

A hand rested on his shoulder and Edward glanced up to see the Colonel watching him with concern. He sighed and forced himself to stand up from his chair. Whispers from the stone comforted him where they could.

“Yeah,” Edward muttered and looked over his students once more. The house, once full, now stood somber with two souls less. “Eventually.”

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 23

A Funeral for Albus’ Peace of Mind

Edward alerted the French Ministry of Magic about the death of their country’s icon. They interrogated him as to the manner of his student’s death and conducted a small but quick investigation. Though the death of an immortal man was not a common everyday occurrence, they accepted his explanation as it was obvious that no foul play was afoot.

He paid for the funeral and the following day he watched as his student and his lover were lowered into the ground together. Despite Nicolas Flamel being a famous wizarding icon for generations, his funeral was oddly empty of friendly faces. Edward attended the small service in solitude. Though he didn’t forgive his student for what he had done, he knew that any person deserved company in their passing.

After the service, Edward sat in the local park in blissful silence. It was nearing late afternoon and the weather had cooled as the autumn months wore on. He let his mind wander in peace as he thoughtlessly fed the ducks some grapes he nabbed from the local grocer. Though he knew he had pressing matters to attend to elsewhere, he allowed himself to enjoy some peace and quiet for a little while. Once he left, he knew that he would not have peace of mind for a long time.

In fact, Edward, in the silence, felt oddly lost. He had been chasing his student for 600 years. Recovering the stone and finding his student was the only thing on his mind. Now that he had both, he didn’t know what to do. Going home was the next objective, but where to start or where to go was beyond him.

“You made a promise,” Alphonse said as Edward neared the end of his short supply of grapes. His brother was always the one to hold him to his word. Edward sighed tiredly and threw another grape into the water. The ducks quickly swam over and gobbled it up after a little bickering amongst each other.

“I know,” he sighed. “Why did his last wish have to be Hogwarts? The bastard is giving me grief even now that he’s gone.”

“At least you have your wand so that Dumbledore can’t pull that trick on you again.”

“Tch. Now I have a second chance to give him a piece of my mind,” he scoffed which only made the souls in the stone chuckle at his bitter humor. He sent the last grape into the water and watched it disappear amongst the fowl before standing up. He brushed himself off and looked around but found the park empty. So, he pulled out his wand.

“It’s about time I dusted off my magic skills and put them to work.”

“Be careful. Someone is going to think you are wizard,” his commanding officer teased him.

“Don’t you dare,” he responded with a smirk. He concentrated on his destination and gave his wand a flick. He felt the familiar pull of an apparition but he didn’t budge from his spot in Paris.

“You are getting rusty,” Hohenheim said.

“Ah shut up. It’s my third time in what? 700 years? Of course, I’m rusty.”

“Be careful. You know an apparition this distance can be dangerous.”

“I’ve teleported before to America and back. I think I am fine.” Edward closed his eyes and focused on his destination. With the picture clear in his mind, he summoned up the raw energy in him and gave his wand another flick. The loudest thunderous bang shot through the city of Paris and suddenly, he was gone.

……….

Severus sat himself down at the high table with a book. Classes had ended for the day and the students had mostly scattered off doing whatever they did on their free time. Severus’s goal was to get some reading in before the students undoubtedly swarmed the place for dinner. Only a few souls were in sight since the food had yet to be sent up from the kitchens. Albus and Pomona were chatting lightly at the high table and a few students were taking advantage of the large tables to do their homework. It was as quiet as that afternoon could be.

As Severus started to settle himself down the room stilled to eerie silence. Not a whisper was heard when suddenly there was a small pop of bright red light from the center of the Great Hall. Then, the room exploded. A loud thunderous crack filled air and the shockwave shattered the windows and threw everyone out of their chairs. The chaos sent screams through the room. As the dust settled, the only thing Severus could hear aside from the ringing in his ear was a familiar voice casting obscenities towards the sky.

“Bloody hell!” a familiar cursed amongst other words that he was not familiar with nor could not translate. He looked up to see the Eastern Sage standing in the middle of the Grand Hall coated in a thick layer of blood as his gut seemed to no longer want to stay in him. A bursting red electrical light engulfed the man and magically before his eyes, Severus saw the man’s entire abdomen and entrails regrow themselves. In the seconds it took the others in the room to regain their senses, Edward Elric was whole again and very pissed off.

“Who the fuck puts a Disapparition Jinx on a school?! You splinched me! Damnit!” the man cried of the confused and scared chatter of the students and faculty.  

“Paracelsus, how on earth did you-“ Albus breathed in shock. For the first time Severus had seen, Albus was at a loss for words. The man in front of them had just apparated through a jinx into Hogwarts unharmed. Well, relatively unharmed. Severus took a moment to help the herbology professor to her feet who only let out a small squeak as she caught sight of the state the ex-alchemy teacher was in. The curses died down but as the alchemist got a look at himself and his now bloody mangled appearance, the foul language returned.

“Ugh! This was my favorite shirt! That’s it. This was a mistake. I don’t care what that ratbag said. I am leaving……. I know I made a promise….. I know,” the man turned to leave but only descended into hushed one-sided argument with himself. Eventually, Edward hung his head back in defeat and let out an obnoxious sigh. It appeared that the argument was over and despite him being the only one there, he seemed to have lost it.

Severus was surprised when the Eastern Sage pulled out a wand. A flick later and suddenly all the tables righted themselves and the beautiful stained-glass windows were returned to their previous self. Edward turned around and crossed his arms as he glared at the headmaster in aggravation.

“I returned as per my apprentice’s last wish, but you already knew that.” Severus watched as Albus nodded his head. His eyes were focused, and Severus could almost see the wheels turning. The Eastern Sage took a step to the side and pointed behind him to the door of Great Hall. His golden stare was steel cold.

“Albus, get your childish ass to your office. You owe me a shirt and a long explanation.” Albus silently excused himself from the newly remade table and left with the Eastern Sage without a word to the other two faculty. Like that, the Great Hall was just as quiet as it was when they had walked in only a few minutes earlier. Severus looked down at his fellow co-worker who returned the same horrified and confused expression.

How powerful was the Eastern Sage?

……….

“You made quite the entrance. We are never going to hear the end of it from the students,” was all Albus said as they walked up the small staircase into the Headmaster’s office.

“It’s not like I wanted to leave my entire large intestine in France! I am going to be lactose intolerant for days because of this stunt. Why the hell is there a jinx here?” Edward retorted as he watched the Headmaster wave his wand and instantly the hole in his shirt and the copious amounts of blood that stained it disappeared. All the signs of his disembowelment was gone.

“Many wars, both wizard and muggle made, have found their way to the walls of this castle. The jinx has been in place to protect the school and its students since the mid-1400s. I guess you haven’t been here for quite some time then,” Albus explained as he opened the door to the office to allow Edward in. He scoffed and stormed past the man into the too-familiar room. Only a week ago he was being chased out of there by spells and the damn mask. Now he was being welcomed like an old business partner. He hated it.

“I assume you returned because Flamel had told you about the prophecy.”

“Of course. That is the only reason why I would ever need to see your ugly face again,” Edward scoffed.

“I didn’t think you were one to fancy divinations,” the headmaster mused.

“Tea leaves and crystal balls are a load of crap. The only people who’s gotten a straight answer from the bottom of a mug are drunkards. Unfortunately, the track record for prophecies has remained unbroken. There is a little more risk not knowing about one that involves me,” Edward answered. “The only thing I am interested in here is the fact that you are hiding information from me.”

“I never-“

“I never- Cut the crap,” he mocked. “You may have never lied but you were avoiding a full answer all the same. Tell me what this prophecy is. Why didn’t you tell me about it when I first got here?”

“I told you that there was a prophecy, it was you who assumed it was Potter’s,” Albus said only to receive an even deadlier glare from Edward. He hated that the headmaster was right. Edward was the one who made the assumption, but the man had used it as an excuse to hide the truth from him. Albus seemed to understand that this wasn’t the time for witful games and banter. “I should have explained, but would you have stayed if I did?”

“We won’t know now, would we?” Edward smarted back. Dumbledore sighed tiredly as his years seemed to wear on him. While he was a scheming bastard, he was tired of trying to push Edward into a corner he didn’t want to be in. He couldn’t wiggle his way out of this interrogation. Edward wouldn’t let him.

The old man motioned for him to follow and led him towards the staircase that went up to the private library above the main office. The library had a few good shelves of hand-selected books for the headmaster’s own personal research. Amongst the shelves were various worktables and lounge chairs for comfortable reading. Edward sat down at one of the comfortable chairs as Dumbledore waved his wand to gather a few items and to make a spot of tea for them. Despite the pain of the man’s existence, he was at least hospitable when he wanted to be.

As Edward waited for the man to return, he heard a piercing cry and a hot wave of fire ignited next to him. Startled, he looked down to see a large ashtray sitting on the table next to him. Inside the large pile of ash poked out a curious young head of a bird. Edward gasped in shock as he saw the little bird spit pitiful chunks of fire at him.

“Fawkes?!!” he exclaimed as he stared upon the phoenix. The sight of a phoenix was a miracle in itself. They were rare beyond rare and didn’t appreciate crowds. However, this particular phoenix was one that Edward didn’t think he would ever see again. The bird perked up at its name and lit up in a bundle of delicate flames. It bounced in delight but tripped over the mound of ash it sat in. Edward tisked in aggravation as he scooped the little ball of feathers off its stand.

“Hey bastard! You take shitty care of your phoenix!” Edward scolded Dumbledore who returned from the shelves of the study. He looked surprised that he was coddling his prized pet. “After his burning day you need to dump out the ashes and give them some fuel. Charcoal is best. They grow better if they have some fire around them.”

 Edward dumped out the tray of Fawke’s burnt ashes onto the carpet and cleaned it off. He gently set Fawkes back down in the ashtray and clapped his hands. With a snap of his fingers he held a burning blue ball of flames in his hands and carefully engulfed the phoenix in it. The fire burnt so bright that both Edward and Dumbledore had to turn away to prevent themselves from going blind. The flames built up before suddenly they went out and, in their place, stood an adult phoenix. Eagerly, Fawkes pounced onto Edward’s head and squawked happily at him. He laughed as he tried to take the phoenix off of his head but it was so accustomed to that roost, Fawkes refused to get down. Edward gave it a few scratches on its wing and it cooed. The warmth of the flames hit him and yet didn’t burn.

“How did you do that?” Dumbledore asked as he sat down across from him. His eyes were locked on Fawkes who pecked lightly at Edward’s hair.

“After their burning day, they get stressed being a defenseless baby for too long. If you feed them fire, they will regrow back into their adult stages. I found that out after Fawkes’s first burn day. He hopped from my hand right into a roaring fireplace. Nearly gave me a heart attack.” He poked Fawkes who flashed another lick of fire as if it was laughing at his expense.

“You know Fawkes?”

“Of course. I am the one who hatched him!” Edward exclaimed as if any thought otherwise was blasphemy. “How he decided to pick you of all people as a companion, I would never know. Ow!” Fawkes pecked him harshly on the head for his jab. He glared back at the bird and took a stand on his opinion of his newest friend.

“When I went to school here, many of the magical creatures were wary of the stone. They could sense something unnatural in me. Made taming hippogriffs and other prideful creatures difficult. Since I was unable to participate in many of the classes, Professor Hufflepuff gave me a special task to care for a phoenix egg. I was able to successfully hatch him while practicing my flame alchemy,” he went on to explain. “Fawkes really likes flame alchemy.”

“I might have to try my hand then to keep him happy,” Albus mused.

“Over my dead body. Flame alchemy is too dangerous, especially for a child who can’t even keep his nose on straight,” Edward cut and pointed to Albus’s horribly crooked nose. It was already crooked before he broke it, but Edward took pride in the idea of making it worse. “Now explain to me this prophecy or else you will find me trying to straighten that mug out for you.” The headmaster smiled to dull the insult but little soothed it.

“The prophecy has been around since the late 15^th century. It was actually our own Professor Percival Rackham who had announced it. His amazement with the ancient magicks made him very partial and protective of his prophecy concerning that it had involved you. Instead of turning it into the ministry’s vault, he kept it in his pensive down in Keepers Caverns right here in the castle.”

“I am very tired of telling people that alchemy isn’t magic and for god’s sake not ancient. I am old, but not that old!” Edward groaned. “I don’t need the details of how it got there. I only need to know what it is.”

“Very well, I have it written down here. Diving into pensives can be very disorienting. I find books to be much simpler ways of remembering things,” the headmaster said as he flipped open one of the books he had gathered from the shelves.

“That is the first ounce of sense you have made in your entire life,” Edward muttered.

“Ah, here it is,” the old man said as he came to a stop on a rather worn page. The man tried to read it out loud however his old English dialect was absolutely atrocious. It seemed that Albus wanted to try and read it in Edward’s dead native language as a type of olive branch, but he only wished that the man never tried to foul his language in his mouth ever again. He snatched the book out of the man’s hands and told him as such. Edward looked down and saw the original passage as well as the modern translation that Albus probably did his best on.

              Born not of this earth, millions of lives all in one. Forever to live, forever alone. Serpents, masks, and blades, will bring around the end of the Eastern Sage’s days. Gates will open when the powerful become powerless, the magical become magicless, and the dark lord’s sliver finds an unwilling host. When all is lost, the lost will find its home.

 “Why the fuck can’t anything just be straightforward?” Edward groaned as he finished reading the short passage. “I’ve gotten better answers from a magic 8 ball. This is barely anything. Yeah, it’s me. That’s obvious. But how on earth do you imagine this is going to happen here? This year? I could be waiting here for another millenia! If this Dark Lord is involved I should just find him and shake it out of him.” Albus chuckled at his brashness.

 “If only it were that easy. Do you know what a Horcrux is?” Edward frowned.

“Of course I do. It is the art of false immortality. Basically creating a philosopher’s stone with one’s own soul. Many times I have been accused of it. It hasn’t been done in ages.” Dumbledore nodded his head.

“Until the Dark Lord. Voldemort has created the largest chain of Horcuxes unknown in magical history. The reason why I have a hunch that your prophecy will happen here in this millenia is that there is another prophecy dealing with the horcruxes of the Dark Lord-“

“Potters.”

 “Correct. With Potter here at school, it is very likely that your prophecies will cooccur.”

 “So what? I just wait around a year? Six? In hopes that it will happen?” Edward scoffed and stood up from his chair. “There are lives that I need to get home. I can’t just live off of wishful thinking.”

 “What would you plan to do instead? Go back to solitude in Siberia for alchemical research?” Dumbledore asked. “You can conduct your research here while also seeing how this prophecy plays out. It isn’t waiting. It is being productive in a different location.”

 “Tch. Load of horseshit. If final exams come around and I still am not home, I am bending your nose back straight.” Dumbledore blinked in surprise as he rose from his own seat.

 “You are staying then?” he asked as if he had prepared for a longer argument.

 “Yeah, yeah, this isn’t for you. Nicolas asked me to on his deathbed. Despite our…. Strained…. Relationship, I promised to fulfill his last wish and return to Hogwarts.” A small grateful smile sat on Dumbledore’s face. It was the first genuine smile he had seen on the man in his entire lifetime.

“Thank you,” he said. Edward rolled his eyes in disregard.

 “Like I said this isn’t for you. And if you try anything, I will be digging your grave for you,” he threatened. “Let me be in peace. Besides, you have more problems in this school to worry about than a thousand year old alchemist going home.”

After a quick few jabbing goodbyes, the two old men said their fairwells and Edward departed the headmasters office. He roamed down the hallways towards the Great Hall. Students walked carefree through the hallways. Murmurs of rumors picked up as they saw him. He had left in a rather dramatic fashion just the prior week so the students were excited now that he was back. However, the gossip bounced dully off Edward’s shoulders. He stood firm feeling very different than he did just the week prior.

  “Well you are back.” Edward heard Mustang state calmly. “Do you think this prophecy will actually happen?”

“Do you think we can actually get home?” Alphonse asked eagerly. The anticipation and excitement swirled in Edward’s chest as the souls in the stone looked forward to their new opportunity. Breaking away from their routine dead end research, they had a fantastical chance to go home, despite how absurd and astounding the circumstances. Where Edward was skeptical on Dumbledore’s theory, he was quite eager to take this chance.

“We will see,” he answered simply. A roar of excitement ignited in him as the souls chattered amongst each other. A smile creeped on his face and he realized that the feeling that he had was something that he hadn’t felt in the longest time. He was hopeful.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 24

Dumb Questions

              Edward stared out over his classroom. Only half of his usual desks were filled, making his class look near abandoned. His attendance list was barren, and he knew that the heads of houses were probably going to have a headache getting their students in line. At least, he thought hopefully, that wasn’t his problem. The problem he had now was that he had a class to teach and a classroom full of students who didn’t appear too keen on him returning. 

              To say that Edward didn’t leave on the best of terms would be an under exaggeration. Punching the headmaster in the face would leave a lasting impression on most of the student body, especially since they weren’t privy to the context in which it happened. Half of his students now waited in frightful anticipation to see what he would do next. Dancing around a touchy subject wasn’t something Edward wanted to do so early in the morning especially with such little sleep. He found himself faced with another restless night in the castle. It seemed that sleep wanted to avoid the school at all costs. A headache and the fading ghost of his typical nightmares hung over him as he desperately tried to massage them away.

              “Stop scratching your face.” Edward cursed as he pinned his hand to the desk as he finished writing up his attendance. His brother was always catching his bad habits.

              “I was sleeping perfectly fine until I got back here,” Edward muttered under his breath.

              “Fine isn’t the word I would use,” his brother jabbed lightheartedly. Edward mocked a laugh. “You are under stress. After dealing with Nicolas and now being here after everything, some sleep trouble can be expected.”

“You can ask the Potion’s Master for some more sleep draughts. Then you can probably get to sleep for once,” his father pitched in helpfully. The old man’s voice only grated his headache more.

“Yeah, I am sure all of the faculty would be peachy keen on helping me out after the whole mask fiasco,” he grumbled. To be honest, Edward was not looking forward to meeting the faculty nor his students again. People who he had foolishly once thought of as friends, willingly betrayed him. Now with some distance, he didn’t know where they stood. He didn’t know how to navigate the awkward field of interactions to clarify it and he didn’t know if he wanted to. He just wanted to be alone. But now, he had to teach.

While he could avoid the faculty, he could not avoid his students. With the half full classroom of antsy students, he was really dreading coming back at all. All of them probably knew now that he was the Eastern Sage. Along with the rumor mill of what happened, he could not imagine the ideas they were spinning up in the cobwebs of their minds. Edward sighed as he sent the attendance list off with his owl Sock. Maybe if he plowed through the lesson, he could push past it all like everything was fine. He stood up and started writing a couple things on the board. He hoped that his students would see and catch on.

 “I wasn’t gone for too long, but we should probably start with a review. What do you all remember of the three laws of alchemy?” Silence made the scratch of his chalk deafening to the ears. Edward glanced tiredly over his shoulder to see the students glancing nervously amongst each other.

“What? You forget already? Not going to be good when the exams come around.” Still silence. Edward glared at them suspiciously and crossed his arms. “You are making this very difficult.” A single hand raised in the air. He foolishly pointed to the student, unknowing of the mayhem he was about to release.

              “Are you Paracelsus?” With that question, the rest of the room descended into chaos.

“Are you immortal?” another student asked.

“Why did you punch the headmaster?”

“Are you a criminal?” someone shouted over the rest.

“Did you go to jail?”

“SHUT UP!” Edward roared loudly and silenced the students into hushed whispers. “What the hell! I come back just to get interrogated! These are all personal questions. Why should I answer any of them?” He didn’t announce that he was Paracelsus for a reason. He didn’t want to answer all of the prying questions. When the Gryffindor kids found out about him, they were relentless and sent him to a panic. He didn’t want to give the other students an opening to pry more. It was all personal.

No one answered him as the class stood silent. They looked nervous.

“They look scared,” Alphonse supplied. Edward knew deep down that their confusion and concern were warranted. He had left in a fury and the tales behind the name Paracelsus were filled with rumors and mystery. Where they had once known their teacher as Professor Elric, they didn’t know him as the Eastern Sage. He didn’t have to give his life story but at least an explanation that punching the headmaster was, most likely, a onetime thing could be a start.

“Fine,” he growled to both himself and his students. “Fine. You want to ask dumb insensitive questions. Be my guest. Of course, twelve-year-olds all deserve the right to know the ins and outs of my personal life.” He clapped his hands and touched the ground, creating a small timer from the stone. He cranked it and raised it up to show his students, who looked at him utterly confused. “You got ten minutes to ask dumb questions. I have the right not to answer them. If you push me on something I don’t want to talk about, I will stop the timer and we will go back to learning alchemy. If you waste time talking or arguing amongst yourselves, you cannot get it back. Ten minutes is ten minutes. Understood?”

There was a wave of eager heads nodding. He saw their hands all tensed to raise. This was going to be annoying. He set the timer on his desk and hit it to get it going. Instantly the arms shot up.

“Why’d you punch the headmaster?” the first question came.

“We had an argument, he overstepped, I put the brat back in place. Next.”

“Are you going to punch him again?”

“Only if he deserves it. So most likely yes.”

“Are you Paracelsus?” the first kid asked again.

“Yes, but if you call me that I will punch you too. Next.”

“How old are you?”

“1016 years old.” There was a gasp of shock as whispers rose around the room. He heard the term ancient being thrown around and he quickly reminded them that he was not, by definition, ancient.

“Why don’t you have a beard like in the paintings?”

“I never had a beard and honestly don’t understand wizards’ obsessions with them. I never had one. Merlin never had one. Most people who are smart enough to get painted with a beard, were smart enough to never have one. Next.”

“Did you really invent alchemy?”

“Without technicalities, yes.”

“What about with technicalities?”

“No. Next.”

“I saw you got splinched yesterday. Are you immortal?”

“No. Just very hard to keep down. Next.”

“How did you become immortal?”

“I am not immortal and that’s personal. Next.” There was a small murmur around the class as they seemed upset about his answer. Everyone knew that he was old and life like he had could only be gotten through supernatural means. The things people would do for immortality were astounding and cruel. He refused to answer them which both protected them but also let their imagination run wild with fear. Edward waited for them to press farther so that he could end this discussion early, but all of them seemed upset and were unknowing of how to proceed. That was, until a single hand raised. It was a young Gryffindor.

“I heard Flamel died. He was immortal. Did you kill him?” a student asked out of the blue. He groaned at the absurdity of the question and dropped his head tiredly in his hand. The roar of laughter from the stone picked up in his ears. These kid’s imaginations were really running wild. No wonder they were scared of him. They thought he murdered his own student. However, now that he thought of it, their question was well warranted. If he did get his hands on Nicholas just the previous year, he might be answering it differently.

“No. I did not kill him and again, neither him nor I are immortal. He died of old age with his wife in France.” They didn’t seem to believe him but that might have been due to the many blatant threats Edward had made on Nicolas’ life during their lessons. Despite having a strained relationship with his student, he did have to admit that he felt empty now that the man was gone. A swirl of sympathy picked up in the stone, yet the questions proceeded.

 “If not Flamel, did you ever kill anyone else?” The same student that asked the first time, asked again.

“What the hell,” Edward growled as he slammed his hand down on the timer next to him. It shattered into pieces. The sound silenced the classroom. “This is why I don’t like people knowing I am Paracelsus. I hate answering dumb questions. Do you want to know about my life and accuse me of stuff you can’t even comprehend? Pick up a damn history book. How many wars do you think have risen in Europe alone since the 10^th century? I have been alive through the Crusades, the Hundred Year War, the World Wars, and every major battle in between. Read your damn textbooks and then I dare you to ask that question again!”

 Silence spread like a disease throughout the classroom. This was exactly why Edward didn’t want to let them ask questions. They always asked the wrong ones. Now, when given an answer, they realized that they probably didn’t want to know. Edward’s headache flared and he massaged his head tiredly. He really didn’t want to think about this topic. He already had enough nightmares of the bloodshed he had gone through. He didn’t want to think about it when he was awake either.

“Stop scratching your face,” his brother scolded softly. Edward closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He sat down on his desk and gripped the edges tightly with his hands to try and stop himself from his habit.

“Time has ended for questions. If you have any more. Keep them to your damn self. There is nothing more you are going to learn about me as the Eastern Sage. I might be old, but I am still human and still your teacher. I hope that when it comes to the other faculty members and your peers that you have more grace when discussing their personal lives. Some things are meant to be left buried,” he bit out into the silence. The students, after realizing the boundaries were crossed, were too nervous to speak up. That was, until one student built up the courage for a final question. Edward glared at them.

“Put your hand down unless it deals with alchemy,” he threatened and the hand lowered. “Alright, now it’s your part of the bargain. You’re going to learn alchemy whether you want to or not. So open your books. From here on out, all questions are going to be about alchemy.”

……………

The rest of Edward’s classes went about as smoothly as the first. He had gotten into many arguments with his students about their nosy nature as many of them asked dumb questions. He would have to have a talk with their history teacher Professor Binns if he wasn’t so avidly avoiding the faculty. While all the other students and teachers gathered around the Great Hall for lunch, Edward had snagged a cup of coffee from the teacher’s lounge and snuck out of the castle through one of the hidden passages. While he didn’t have a choice to interact with his students, he really did not have the energy to deal with the faculty nor the bustling crowds of the Great Hall.

“You are going to have to talk to them at some point,” Alphonse reasoned.

“Yeah, I am very excited to hear what they are going to say about all this. ‘oh yes sorry about attacking you over a petrified cat. Why don’t we catch the ball game and call it even?’” he mocked sourly.

“I don’t think they have baseball here.”

“That’s besides the point,” Edward muttered. “I really don’t want to talk to them right now.”

He sipped his coffee as he meandered around the school grounds. It was warm for the start of November but the light nip in the air made one remember that winter was right around the corner. Edward was dreading the Scottish weather on his automail, but decided to ignore it and enjoy what sun he could get. The more he walked, the farther away his troubles seemed to become. With light chatter from the stone he managed to make his way around the wood line of Hogwart’s grounds. He was just remembering his old escapades through the Forbidden Forest when suddenly a shadow fell over him. Before he could even turn around he was laying prone on the ground with his face planted in the mud.

‘Bwoof’ the gigantic dog barked happily as it sat on top of him and licked the back of his head with a drool covered tongue. Edward cursed and wailed at the dog that effortlessly pinned him to the ground with the near 200lbs of muscle and bone. A roar of laughter picked up in the stone at Edward’s predicament. Unfortunately for him it didn’t appear like the stubborn dog wanted to move anytime soon.

“Fang! What do yeh have there?! Geroff!” Edward heard a deep and booming voice yell. He was relieved that the scolding was enough to get the massive dog off of him. However, before he could recover, he was being lifted to his feet by the ends of his own coat.

“Oh- er- sorry ‘bout that. Fang’s a bit much ter handle if yer not expectin’ it,” the man said. Edward looked up and saw a giant of a man with a huge wiry beard and solid belly. He had seen him around enough to recognize him as the groundskeeper but did not have any interactions with him to be able to say any more than that. In fact, he doesn’t remember sharing anything but a nod in passing with the man. Being stuck in the castle and away from the grounds had kept their lives pretty much separated. Not only that, but it seemed that when they did cross, the groundskeeper had always been wary of him, something that Pomona had always noted in their talks.

“Uh, Rubeus, is it?” Edward asked hesitantly. “Can you put me down now?” The man looked at him in surprise as it seemed he had forgotten that he was holding Edward up a steep 5 feet off the ground. Flustered, he quickly set Edward back down on his feet and tried to clean him off with his dustbin lid sized hands. It felt like he was being beaten like a rug. He waved the giant off to save himself from being pummeled.

“Sorry,” Rubeus apologized again. “Yer the uh….” Surprisingly, he didn’t know his name which Edward found oddly inviting.

“Edward, the alchemy teacher,” he answered for him as he gave the gigantic dog a good scratch behind the ears. The animal melted into him and the massive tail wagged like a rocket behind him. A smile crept on his face as he had forgotten the last time he got to simply enjoy a dog’s presence.

“Oh -er- yeah. I knew that.” Edward was sure that he didn’t. The reminder of his name seemed to set Hagrid a bit on edge. He swayed nervously as he was unsure of how to continue. Edward felt downhearted at Rubeus’ change in demeanor upon realizing who he was. However, he couldn’t say he blamed him. It was a common reaction. As Rubeus struggled to figure out what to say, Edward decided to alleviate the burden from him. 

“No worries. I should, uh, get another cup of coffee I guess,” he offered as a departure. He clapped his hands together and restored the cup that had shattered when he was tackled. He gave Fang one more scratch on the head but before he could turn to leave, Rubeus stopped him.

“I didn’t mean ter be rude,” Rubeus said. “It’s just… yer … yeh.”

“I am, in fact, me,” Edward chuckled. “I wouldn’t have thought someone your size would have anything to be intimidated by when it came to someone like me though.”

“No offense, but kind o’ just gives me the hibbie jibbies. It’s-“

“Unnatural, yeah, I know. Not many humans, but many magical creatures can sense that too. You’ve got strong instincts. Can’t say that for your dog though. Fang is the first dog that came near me in over fifty years. Most of them are intimidated or scared off. I forgot how much I missed them,” Edward noted. He reached out to Fang and the dog barely held himself back from pouncing on him again. Another laugh left his chest as he continued to pet the dog. Seeing Fang give him another slobbering lick, the giant seemed to ease up and a smile spread across his face too.

“Yeah, well that’s Fang for yeh. Loyal ter a fault but a complete nitwit,” Rubeus chuckled lightly. After a moment of hesitation, he motioned over his shoulder to where a run-down shack sat on the bottom half of the hill. “Say, not ter get off on the wrong foot, do yeh want ter come for some tea? I can refill that cup of yers.”

“Sure, that would be nice.” The giant led him down to the small cabin. The Forbidden Forest rose up in the background. The shadows that it cast only made the house seem that more inviting as smoke rose out of the warm hearth and the lights in the windows casted a warm glow in the dark. The giant led him into the cozy cabin, everything inside was oversized to fit the large man’s needs. Edward felt like he was a child again as when he took a seat at the kitchen table, his feet could barely touch the floor. Rubeus bumbled around in the kitchen but soon there was a hot cup of tea and a plate of biscuits in front of him. Even with his reservations about him, Rubeus still was a very hospitable host.

“So, what’s got yeh wandering outside? Didn’t yeh want lunch in the castle? A lot less dogs there ter knock over yer cup,” he asked with a grunt as he took a seat across from him.

“I’m not going to lie. I left on rocky terms and I am not too keen on meeting everyone again now that I am back. Thought I would take a walk instead,” Edward muttered as he inspected one of the biscuits. It was large but had the consistency of a rock. He politely put it back on the plate as he was afraid he would lose a tooth on it.

“I heard ‘bout that. Gave everyone a good fight. What was that all ‘bout if yeh don’t mind me asking? Yer not some criminal are yeh?”

“Albus trapped me in the castle then accused me of petrifying that cat,” Edward muttered bluntly.

“He must’ve had his reasonings,” Rubeus tried to consol. It was obvious to Edward that the man was truly loyal to Dumbledore. Many of the faculty valued Dumbledore over the stakes at hand. It was one of the things that kept Edward trapped for so long and it bothered him that they couldn’t see past the headmaster until it was too late. Dumbledore was an amazing wizard and Edward knew that he had probably already thought of a way to end to the brewing war before it begun. In this way, he was very similar to Mustang and his plot to become Fuhrer.

“Don’t lump me with him,” Mustang barked from the stone, purely offended. Edward rolled his eyes. Unlike Mustang, however, Dumbledore was dealings were a bit more whimsical and he had a little more care for the prophecies and less care for the people they entailed. He believed that Dumbledore probably could save many lives, but he was costing Edward so much more.

“He had his reasonings,” Edward admitted though he treaded carefully as he didn’t want to upset his host. “But I still don’t imagine that they warrant trapping me in the castle. If he just explained in the beginning, I would have agreed willingly. But… now I’m back so it doesn’t matter.”

“Seems ter matter.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Edward mumbled and took a sip of his tea. It was bitter having been steeped too long but Rubeus seemed to notice and pushed a cup of sugar towards him. “I couldn’t leave the walls of the castle and everyone just went along with it. They attacked me and I don’t know what to think of it now that I am back. The students are scared of me. Hell, even you were. I just don’t want to deal with that right now.” Edward realized that he found it way too easy to talk to Rubeus. He hadn’t meant to put that all on the man so early in the morning. However, despite it being a heavy topic, Rubeus appeared willing to partake in the conversation.

“Well, that’s a bit of a situation yeh got there.” Rubeus took a bit of his biscuit with ease as if it wasn’t made of concrete. “But I reckon that if yeh can explain all that ter me – and I’m not too knowing on the matter - then it would be easy ter explain all that ter them.”

“I guess you’re right,” Edward sighed. He couldn’t avoid the faculty for too much longer. He would run into them at some point in which he better be prepared for a very awkward conversation. He wondered it Rubeus was right and it would be better just to rip the bandage off and address everything right off the bat. Like the man said, it was easy enough to talk to him about it. Maybe it would be easy enough to explain things to them.

“Why did yeh come back anyways? I thought that being, yeh know, immortal and such that teaching would be boring for yeh.” Edward took a second to think about his question.

“If we ignore the persistence of the headmaster and my belated student, I am here because it is boring,” he admitted. “When you experience everything fantastical that life can throw at you, sometimes the ordinary is more worthwhile. I have been running around for the last 600 years. My bones are tired, and I got a lot of research to catch up on. Dumbledore convinced me to do it here and wait to see what the year would bring.”

“That makes sense. But if I were yeh, I would have been bold and loud ‘bout coming back,” Rubeus said with a smile, “Tell em yer Paracelsus. Would’ve liked to see Lockhart knocked down a few pegs.”

“Ha! That would have been a good one!” Edward barked a laugh. “I told him many times but the buffoon didn’t believe me. I also didn’t want to really announce it because I don’t like the dumb questions. Now that everyone knows, I just spent the entire day having students relentlessly pry into my personal business. Besides,” Edward noted, “Edward is my real name. Paracelsus was a made-up title to help me blend in back in the tenth century.” Rubeus nodded in acknowledgement, but his silence was stiff. Edward eyed him closely. He looked like he was about to boil over but was doing his best to be polite and hold it in.

“You got questions don’t you.”

“I might,” he admitted. With a groan Edward hung his head in exhaustion. Just as he thought.

“You get one.” Rubeus lit up with excitement. He spent no time pondering his question. It seemed he had just been waiting for the right opportunity to ask him.

“What type of magical creatures have yeh met? Dumbledore told me about yeh hatchin’ that phoenix. What others have yeh seen? Did yeh see an occamy?”

“Is that really what you want to know?” Edward asked in shock. He was expecting some prying information about his immortality or his early life. It was all anyone wanted to talk about. No one wanted to talk about the mundane when he was built from fantasy. However, it turned out the giant just wanted to hear stories.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a dumb question, but I gotta be curious. Yeh’ve been alive for so long. I thought yeh would’ve seen some stuff.” Edward chuckled incredulously.

“No. That’s not a dumb question. In fact, that’s the best question I got all day,” he said.
“Damn. Where do I start? Yeah. I have seen an occamy. It’s even my patronus. Actually, I’ve seen a lot of neat creatures. As you could imagine it’s hard for me to interact with them, but my friend Newt always had a way with creatures.”

 Edward descended into a long tale about his various escapades with magical creatures from pixies to dragons. Rubeus was enraptured for the entire tale. As Edward found out, the giant really did know a lot about magical creatures. He asked many detailed questions about the species and habitats. Edward did his best to answer as many as he could, but even he felt like he couldn’t give a good enough answer sometimes. Their conversation continued until the sunlight outside dwindled to nothing. Even then, they talked on. It was only when their conversation about thunderbirds came to a close did they decide to say their farewell.  

“Thank you for the tea,” Edward said as he gathered up his things.

“It was great talkin ter yeh,” Rubeus replied. “Come by anytime! I would like ter hear more ‘bout those fire breathin chickens yeh had mentioned.” As Edward left the house he turned back when the giant called out after him.

“An, Edward!” he shouted. “Yeh don’t really look like a Paracelsus anyways. Yeh hear?” Edward felt a smile spread across his face as he waved farewell to the man.

“You are happy,” he heard Winry mention lightly as he made his trek through the darkness back towards the castle.

“Yeah, I think I am.” Though they had initially held their reservations towards each other, Edward was glad to have met the giant. While he was uncertain of where he stood with the faculty he had encountered before, Rubeus being a new face had made him remember that not everyone in the castle was out to get him. Maybe there still was a chance for an old man like him to make a friend or two in his lifetime.

The small smile he had from their conversation carried with him through the castle to his portrait hole. As he went to unlock his door, he stopped as he saw a small chest by his door with a letter on top addressed to him. Curious, he bent down to look at it.

Sleep draught to double proportions. -Severus

There was a ravine that was created between Edward and the heads of houses. It was the hurdle that he had been avoiding all day. Though the note held no flourishes or lengthy apologies, Severus had started making the bridge for him. It would be a rocky path, but at least Edward knew that the faculty were willing to take their time and put in their effort to bridge the gap. He didn’t think anything could be the same as before. However, maybe they could try to make it into something new.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 25

The Quidditch Match

Edward maintained his distance with the faculty through the week as he worked on getting his students back on the same page in his classes. Slowly, despite the rocky start, they warmed up to him and his prickly demeanor again. Edward didn’t know if it was because they knew they had overstepped or if it was because they knew that their grade was on the line, however he was happy to see that his students were back in class and taking his lessons seriously. Without anymore insensitive questions, the class was going as smoothly as possible.

As the weekend was setting in, Edward found himself struggling to find normalcy again. He had been chasing Flamel for over 600 years and had then been trapped in the castle for the last few months. With the freedom to run around and no need to hunt anyone down, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He supposed he should restart his research on how to return home, but after 600 years of not touching his notes, he didn’t quite know where to start.

“Nicolas said something about magic and alchemy. Maybe he was right in combining the two?” Alphonse suggested making Edward scoff.

“He made a butchered mess of alchemy is what he did. Waving his wand everywhere for God knows what reason. But I suppose it’s better than having no lead.”

“Get a book out on Magical Runes to refresh yourself. Maybe there is a better way to incorporate the two without needing a wand.” The two of them discussed possibilities on that route of research as Edward poked his head into the Great Hall. He wanted to get a cup of tea to help warm himself up as the drizzling rain was making his ports act out. While it wasn’t a difficult storm, and not the worse weather he had experienced, he could picture a nice warm cup of tea and holing himself up in the library to read the day away. However, as he peered into the Great Hall for breakfast, he faltered. The Great Hall practically stood vacant. The only people there were a few straggling students and the house elves preparing some of the final tables.

“Weird,” Alphonse commented.

“Where is everyone?” Edward wondered aloud. The Great Hall was usually packed during meal hours. Edward was worrying that he would have to dodge the faculty again just to get a cup of tea but it looked like his fear was for naught. However, before he could even step foot in the room, he heard a shout from down the Entrance Hall. 

“PROFESSOR!” In a blink, he was swept off his feet as someone hooked under each of his arms and was being dragged relentlessly towards the doors of the Entrance Hall. The instant he was dragged outside, the rain hit him, making him curse loudly.

“What the hell!?!” he screeched as the red headed Weasley twins kidnapped him.

“You are going to miss the game!” one of them exclaimed through the Danish that was crammed in their mouth.

“We are going to miss the game, Fred!” the one who Edward highly suspected was actually Fred, scolded his twin. “You’re the one who decided to waste time to waterproof your shoes!”

“Wet socks are the worst and you know it! Also, we can’t miss the game if we are in it!” George defended.

“I would like to see you tell that to McGonagall.” As the twins descended into an argument, Edward managed to find an opening to free himself from their grasp. He shoved them off and took a few steps away from them.

“You kidnapped me for a game? It’s raining! Who wants to watch a game in this weather?!” Edward asked as he pulled the hood of his red cap over his head in an attempt to stay dry. He was glad that he had decided to wear his cape today rather than his normal clothes. He always fared better in bad weather with it. As he got a look at the two he realized that they had exchanged their normal school robes for long red ones equipped with knee pads and arm guards. They looked like they were prepared to go into a football game as heavily stocked quarterbacks, but he knew wizards were too isolated to dabble in muggle sports. The Weasley twins looked offended that he didn’t know what they were talking about.

“Quidditch! It’s the first match of the season! School rivalry, Gryffindor vs Slytherin!” George announced. Edward looked up to see that they were pushing him down towards the quidditch pitch, something that was a hard-fought practice ring earlier in the year.

“Everyone and their mum is there! A little bit of water can’t stop a good match! You have to get moving if you want a seat!”

“I’ve got research to do back in the library. I don’t want to waste my time getting soaking wet for a sport I don’t even know anything about!” Edward complained. He wasn’t a big sportsperson and he had already set his mind to go to the library that morning. He wasn’t too keen on watching people beat each other up for arbitrary points.

“You don’t know the joys of quidditch? That’s even more reason to go!” Fred exclaimed.

“We need you to cheer on Gryffindor! We can’t win without you!”

“Who says I am going to root for Gryffindor even if I go? I’m a Ravenclaw. My best friend in school was a Slytherin! What if I choose to cheer for them instead?” The twins acted like they were wounded at the thought of him cheering for someone else. They were relentless.

“You can’t root for Slytherin at your first-ever quidditch match!” George cried despite Edward not even agreeing to go in the first place.

“That is if you want there to even be a match, Weasleys!” a stern voice shouted at them from the pitch. The three of them looked down the hill through the haze of the rain to see Minerva glaring at them. “You are late! Get your brooms! I will not be listening to Snape’s gloating because of a forfeit!” The twins scurried off as they were scolded by their teacher. The two students disappeared to what Edward suspected was a locker room while Minerva waved him over.

“Edward, it is good to see you again. I haven’t had a chance to talk since you came back,” Minerva commented but didn’t dig too far. She seemed to know that Edward had wanted his space at the moment. That was one reason why Edward liked her. “I am glad to see you made it to the match. I remember you telling us you never saw one before. I thought maybe you wanted to keep it that way.”

“I was but those twins had uh… convinced me to go.”

“More like dragged you against your will,” Mustang muttered.

“Come on, if the Weasleys get themselves in gear, the match should be started soon.” Minerva started to lead him into the stadium. The pitch was made of a wooden structure with several boxed stands for the spectators to sit in. Rain crept into the structure drop by drop, but it still provided some sort of cover that many of the students were taking advantage of. Students ran up and down the steps sporting their house flags and waterproof hats to match their team. Edward was surprised by the ferocity of school spirit. Even Minerva was prominently wearing her own red and gold scarf with matching mittens to fight the cold. They wound up the stairs to the first box that was labeled for the faculty and Minerva ushered him in.

The instant he stepped into the stands, he felt himself freeze as he looked not out at the pitch, but rather at the heads of the faculty in front of him. Edward felt himself fill with dread. He had managed to avoid most of the teachers for the entire week but now he had to sit next to them to watch a sports game. All of them were there. Not only did he have to face them, but he would also have to do it all at the same time. Edward felt the overwhelming need to turn around and leave.

“You are going to have to talk to the other teachers at some point. You shouldn’t let them stop you from enjoying yourself,” Winry said.

“I don’t even like sports and the weather sucks. There’s nothing to enjoy,” Edward whispered harshly.

“Looks like you don’t have a choice.” Before Edward could make a run for it, Minerva quickly bustled him over to the only open seat in the entire box. He found himself sandwiched elbow to elbow in the front row between her and Severus. The potion master was holding his wand up as a makeshift magical umbrella to keep himself dry from the elements. As Edward was shoved next to him, he raised an eyebrow. Severus seemed surprised to see him but made no acknowledgment.

“I was starting to think that we already won but it looks like there will be a game after all,” Severus commented snidely to Minerva who crossed her arms and harumphed to herself. Edward frowned as he realized that with this being a school rivalry match, he was sitting between the heads of the two fighting houses. It was obviously a popular match where most of the school had showed up despite the weather. Edward could only imagine what he got caught in the middle of as he sat between the two head rivals.

A whistle sounded and Edward looked down at the pitch to see green and red robes soar around the field. Some held bats, others fought over a red ball, and two just sat around doing nothing but look off into space. It was a lot to take in and Edward found himself confused before it even really began.

“There are seven players,” Severus began as he sensed his confusion. “Three chasers try to get the quaffle through the hoops to score points. The keeper defends the goals. The beaters try to defend or knock the opposing team off their brooms by batting the bludgeon at them, and the seekers try to end the game by catching the snitch.”

“So we are watching students literally beat the crap out of each other until someone catches a bird?” Edward asked unamused.

“Not a snidget, a snitch. It is a ball not a bird,” Severus sighed. Edward mouthed an ‘oh’ as a few students on brooms zoomed on by. The entire box erupted in cheers as Slytherin shot a goal. Minerva scolded the Gryffindor keeper under her breath. Edward tried to focus on the match but was having trouble figuring out what to focus on. He was getting overwhelmingly stressed just trying to keep up. In a blink of an eye the Slytherin team was up 20-0.

“Don’t break yourself. It’s not that hard,” Minerva said with a chuckle as she saw him struggle.

“It seems hard enough for the Gryffindor team. Did you remind them that they should put the ball through the hoop?” Severus commented as Slytherin scored yet another goal.

“We will still win this! We can get the snitch!” The two of them descended into hushed arguments. Edward looked around the box as the two faculty argued with each other. The other teachers were not paying as close attention to the game, probably as it did not concern their own houses. A few of them were gossiping with each other on various topics. Despite the ruckus around him, he accidentally overheard Filius whisper something to Pomona.

“I wonder what made him come back. I thought he left for good. After what happened, if I were him, I wouldn’t have come back.”

“I am sure he has his reasons. It hasn’t been long but he has had a lot happen to him. Haven’t you heard? Flamel died.”

“Oh dear. That’s awful. I didn’t know.” Their whispered conversation continued but the roar of the crowd took their words away. Slytherin scored again. Edward closed his eyes and sank down in his seat as he tried to block out the noise. He could feel eyes on him and the sting of loose tongues made him feel very unwanted. The stress of the game, the pressure of the box, was becoming too much for him. He stood up to leave.

“Edward, is everything alright?” Minerva asked as she paused the argument she was having with the potion’s master.

“Yeah. I’m just having trouble keeping up. I think I’m just going to go to the library. I have some work to catch up on.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable having you come to the game.” Edward smiled weakly as he was about to brush it off.  He just wanted to leave the situation as quickly as possible. But just as he was about to respond Severus spoke up.

“You probably have a lot to say about your manner of departure,” Severus said without looking at him. “It is okay to say it.” The fake smile on his face slowly melted with every word from the potion’s master. He remembered what Rubeus had told him during their afternoon tea. Though they already probably knew his conflicts, he should just talk to them about it.

“It can’t get better if it isn’t addressed. What they did to you is wrong. You need to talk about it,” Winry said.

“What do I even say?” Edward muttered under his breath in Amestrian. Severus and Minerva glanced at each other as they saw him talking to himself. They didn’t say anything as they now knew that there was a person on the other end of his personal conversations.

“Explain.” Edward sighed and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. They were right. He was just avoiding it now. He needed to talk to them and settle it. He honestly was getting tired of dodging the faculty in the corridors and he did miss their company despite everything.

“Fine,” he sighed as he turned back to Severus and Minerva who were waiting patiently. “Yes. I am pissed about getting attacked. Being trapped in the castle was degrading enough but then being accused and attacked like that was beyond anything I have experienced in years.”

“Why did you come back?” Severus asked.

“Because some idiot headmaster convinced me I had nothing better to do with my life.” The jabbing humor did not go over Severus’ head and the man smirked sadly as the crowd erupted around them for another goal. Edward found himself sinking back down into his chair as the rain felt heavy on his shoulders. “I don’t know how to be fine with any of this. I don’t know if I can be,” Edward admitted.

“Then don’t be,” Severus said. Minerva rolled her eyes at his bluntness.

“We had a discussion after you left and we are all truly sorry for what had happened. We don’t expect you to forgive us but we hope that we could do our best to make it up to you,” she clarified. Edward chewed the inside of his cheek in frustration as the rain pelted the hood of his coat. Was there even a way for them to make up for that? He couldn’t forgive them, but he also didn’t feel like he could hold anger towards them.

 “Never forgive, never forget, but take this opportunity to move on,” the Colonel said wisely.

“Very smart words for the man who nearly went mad with revenge.” The Promised day seemed eons ago and yet each person in the stone remembered it clear as day. It was the last day they had their bodies and freedom as individuals. They could never forget that. Where a majority of the stone was just living their lives as usual before their souls were ripped out, Edward and his friends were fighting to win a battle most of the country remained clueless about. The memory of their failures that day stung them all.

“I learned my lesson so now I can teach it. Know that they have crossed you. Don’t let them do it again, but give them a chance to be better,” the man explained. “You stopped me back in Central. I got another chance to be a better man. Give them a chance to get better.” That made sense. Coming from his old commander, he knew that the man was right as he had seen the Colonel wash himself of his fury and take a better road. Maybe all the faculty needed to do was get on the same path. A warmth filled his chest as the stone reassured him.

“I think,” he said to his fellow teachers, “I think I would like to try that.” A grateful smile grew on Minerva’s face and Edward even saw one creep onto Severus’s for just a split second. The crowd erupted into another roar as Slytherin got another point. “Besides,” Edward continued, “I don’t think Alphonse would be happy with me if he couldn’t enjoy some tea with you again, Minerva.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” his brother confirmed.

“That settles it. After we win the match I will have to put a pot on for us.”

“You win the match? I don’t know if you have looked at the score, Minerva, but Slytherin is up 60-0,” Severus reminded her of the very one-sided match. As the teachers agreed to move forward from their past, they turned back towards the miserable game in the rain. Gryffindor was struggling to even get a hold of the ball as Slytherin was flying circles around them. Edward watched as the four beaters on the team batted a single bludger around between them. A couple of them looked lost as they flew around the field with their bats, searching for something.

“Hey,” Edward said after watching them for a moment. “Didn’t you say that there were two-“

CRASH! Before Edward could finish the world went black and screams of chaos roared from the stone. There was an alchemic sizzle and Edward felt a roaring headache grow. He blinked his eyes open to see the horrified faces of Minerva and Severus in front of him. He groaned and massaged his aching head. Something must have come over him.

“Nothing came over you,” Mustang exclaimed, “You had you damn head blown off!”

“What?” Edward in confusion as the screaming of the stone disoriented him.

“You had a cannonball go through your head!” Winry screeched. Edward looked behind him to see a bludger-sized hole in the stands and a frightened crowd pointing off to the distance. It was a literal cannonball, solid iron and deadly. The second bludger had crashed through the stand and taken Edward’s head with it. The ball soared through the air and made an unseemingly hard turn to the right and out of sight.

“Bloody hell!” he cried as he realized what had just happened. He patted his body down as if he expected something to be injured, but of course he was fine. It was a miracle that he had been sitting there and no one else. A small shift in that bludger’s path and they would have been dealing with someone’s funeral next.

“Oh, my goodness. Someone get the nurse!” he heard Pomona cry behind him. In an instant he was being tossed around by many of the faculty as they tried to assess him for injury. The short Hufflepuff teacher held his head in her hands and tried to find any cause of worry, which Edward knew was not there.

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Edward exclaimed as he tried to keep the wizards at bay. It was exceedingly difficult in the chaos of the stands. He tried to reassure all of them that he was okay but none of them looked convinced. They all looked horrified and shaken. It isn’t every day you see someone recover from decapitation. He only managed to keep them at bay when their attention was caught by another cry.

“It’s going after Potter!” they heard a scream from another part of the rafters. Everyone turned their head towards the fields to see the ball tail the Gryffindor seeker. No matter how the kid tried to evade it, it was always inches away from him. Edward saw the two Weasley twins bravely bat the thing away but seconds later it was back again.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Edward asked. The game changed from a playful competition to a deadly race. All of the spectators rose to their feet as they watched the horrifying event unfold.

“Of course, it isn’t!” Filius cried as they watched as Potter was knocked off his broom and onto the pitch’s turf. The ball curved back around and started to cascade down towards the kid who was desperately trying to regain his senses. All of the faculty stood up but it was Edward who ran forward. He leaped from the box. With a whip of his wand, what would have been a two-story drop had him gracefully racing forward as he made a speedy controlled descent. Edward watched as Harry barely dodged when the bludger plowed through the ground mere inches from where his chest once was. Several spells flew across the field towards the ball as the teachers tried to stop it. They missed their mark as the ball effortlessly dodged them, sticking true to its course for Harry’s head. Edward raced across the pitch and sent a spell towards the ball as it was about to hit the kid. It made its mark and the bludger was sent off kilter. It smashed into the earth a few feet away before recovering and bounding back to the skies.

“Are you okay?” Edward asked Harry as he got to the kid. Harry looked a mess as he was covered in mud and in a panic. His right arm looked horribly broken while the left held onto a small golden ball. As Edward assessed him, Harry’s eyes grew wide when something behind him caught his attention.

“Professor!” the kid barely made out. Edward spun around to see the bludger raging towards them. Without time to cast a spell, he braced himself behind his automail arm. There was a loud ring as metal hit metal and the iron ball rebounded off his arm and sent him staggering back. The ball soared high into the sky before banking a turn to head straight down towards Harry. A growl escaped Edward’s chest as he clapped his hands and stood over his student. He reached his automail arm out and caught the ball. There was a sickening crunch as his automail crumpled under the ball's pressure. He let out an angered yell as he gripped a hold of bludger and threw it down to the pitch in front of them. The instant it hit the ground it shattered into a find red powder and disappeared.

The silence that followed was deafening. Edward only looked once to make sure that the ball was not going to magically reanimate itself before turning to Harry’s aid again. By then several more faculty members had made it down from the stadium seats and were rushing to help their student.

“Professor, your arm-“ Harry started but ended with a hiss as his own mangled arm was jostled. Edward’s automail was practically useless. The impacts of the bludger had crushed the elbow joint like a tin can. He was amazed that he could still move his fingers, but maneuvering the arm was cumbersome. However, despite destroying his own arm, he was glad that his student still had his head.

“It’s you who I am worried about. Are you hurt anywhere else?” Edward asked as he knelt and gently looked Harry over. He was banged, bruised, and Edward highly thought that he had a concussion, but aside from his broken arm he seemed okay. To confirm his assumption, Harry shook his head. Edward gently took Harry’s hand in his. The kid winced.

“Did the ball do this?” Edward asked as he gently rolled up the kid’s sleeve to get a better look. Harry nodded. The bone was a clean break, but it was a miracle that he still had it. The cannonball of a bludger was going fast enough to take off Edward’s head. Somehow, it must have been pulling its punches when it came to Harry. It made him think that this wasn’t an accident.

“What did you do to it?” Harry asked as he looked over towards the pile of red dust.

“I alchemized the iron in the ball to react with the rain and oxygen in the air. Rust is brittle and so its last impact shattered it. What I don’t understand is why this game has a 150-pound cannonball in the first place.” The kid winced again as Edward accidentally jostled his arm to pull out his wand. He apologized quietly to him but didn’t get far enough to fix him before he was shoved unceremoniously out of the way.

“Harry, it’s a good thing I got here in time. A grievous injury like this must be traumatic. But you mustn’t have any fear. I can fix it for you.” Gilderoy Lockhart stood over Harry, pride overshadowing any concern that the teacher might have had for his own student. Edward could see the terror in Harry’s eyes as he begged Lockhart to leave his arm alone but the man wouldn’t listen. With a lot less care than Edward had, Lockhart began to move Harry’s shattered arm around.

“Hey, dumbass! What the hell do you think you are doing?!” Edward scolded the other teacher. Gilderoy was one person he was not excited about seeing again. His foolishness was legendary, disguised in the pages of great adventures.

“Helping a student with my medical expertise of course! You are also injured, so I wouldn’t want to put too much pressure on you to attempt this level of magic.” Edward seethed at the jab of incompetence he received but before he could argue, Gilderoy whipped out his wand and chanted a spell.

“Brackio emendo!” his bold theatrical voice exclaimed. With a touch of his wand to Harry’s arm the blood of the fracture disappeared, and his skin healed. “There! All better.” As the man released the student’s arm, it flopped around like a bowl of jelly much to everyone’s horror.

“Better?! He doesn’t have any bones left!”

“Well, there aren’t any broken bones anymore are there?” the man defended himself. The nurse came in and ushered the student away as the faculty rounded on Gilderoy for his foolishness.

“Why on earth didn’t you let me heal him you nitwit?!” Edward jabbed the man in the chest. “You can’t tell your wand apart from your nose!”

“Now that just comes down to a matter of perspective!” he chuckled nervously. “Besides, you need to care for your own injuries! Look at your arm! It would be too much to ask of you to treat someone else as you are obviously still in pain-“

“This is my automail arm! It’s metal!”

“Well in that case, a simple charm can mend that!” Gilderoy lifted his wand like he was going to cast another spell but Edward caught his wrist in his hand. With a sweep of his leg, Gilderoy was knocked over and faceplanted into the ground. Edward ground his knee into the fool’s back and sent a deadly glare at him.

“If you ever point that wand at me again, you will be the one losing an arm,” Edward hissed. “Got it?” The normal jovial look in Gilderoy’s eyes vanished into one of pure fear. For the first time, the idiot was at a loss of words and meekly nodded his head. Edward lifted his head and gave the same deadly look towards all of the faculty who were crowded around. While he was willing to give them a second chance, he still held firm that if there was any funny business, he wouldn’t blink twice to end it. The teachers, each seeing his fury took a step back. When he confirmed that the message had gotten across, Edward forcefully dropped his hold on the man’s arm and roughly stood up. He brushed himself off and marched off the pitch to check on his student. The faculty followed him silently, leaving Gilderoy to recover on his own.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 26

Petrified

Edward winced as he watched Harry down a cup of the Skele-gro potion. He knew it to be distasteful just as he knew that it was painful growing one’s bone back cell by cell. However, his friends apparently wanted to make his stay as easy as possible. While he had to chug down a bottle of yellow smudge, he was also surrounded by an entire pile of sweets thanks to the Gryffindor quidditch team. It took a whole lot of yelling from Poppy to get them all out of the Hospital Ward. She had declared it too noisy for healing. However, the only two people there to be healed was Harry who probably preferred a distraction over feeling his own bones regrow, and Edward who had accidentally gotten captured by the nurse for a checkup. He had originally gone up to the ward to check on Harry to make sure that Gilderoy hadn’t done any lasting damage. Now, the nurse, having heard about his most recent decapitation, refused to let him leave until she did a thorough examination. He was feeling more like a science experiment than a patient.

“Stop fidgeting! That bludger could have killed you!” Poppy argued as, despite her concern, she smacked him lightly on the head to keep him still.

“Ow! If I was anyone else, I would be dead, but I am not!” he defended. “Why the hell do you even have a cannonball in a sport anyways? It’s like playing dodgeball with death.”

“You won’t hear me arguing with you there. These sports are too dangerous. Broken arms, twisted ankles, whiplash, you name it. However, in all my years I have never seen a bludger do this. It’s not supposed to hit that hard. The worst it’s supposed to do is spin someone silly. But it seems like you’re accident-prone,” she accused and shined the light of her wand in both of his eyes. He blinked the blinding spots away. “Probably traumatized half of the student body who saw what happened to you.”

“I don’t think this was an accident.”

“What do you mean? Someone’s trying to kill you?” Poppy asked like it was a ludicrous idea, which it was. “If someone wants to kill the Eastern Sage, they’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

“Not me!” Edward exclaimed. With a side glance at the student at the opposite side of the hospital ward. Not wanting him to overhear, he brought Poppy closer and whispered, “The bludger was targeting Harry. I think someone’s trying to incapacitate him.”

“That’s not possible-“

“The only reason why it hit me was that my head was in the ball’s path towards him.” The nurse blanched out and stood up. She straightened out her scrub robes and nodded stiffly. She seemed to understand his reasoning.

“I will go and talk with Albus about this,” she said. “You, however, will wait here until I’m done assessing you.”

“WHAT?!” Edward screamed. Poppy scolded him to keep his voice down.

“I am not convinced that you don’t have anything wrong with you after having your head get blown off. A concussion, brain damage, even a crick in your neck. Something has to be wrong.”

“I am immortal! Nothing happens to me!”

“This is the third time you’re in my hospital ward this year. Looks to me like it can,” she huffed stiffly. Edward thought about getting up and making a run for it but the stern look in her eye made him realize that she was not above petrifying him to keep him still. He threw his arm up in the air and flopped down on the bed in disbelief.

“Soaking wet, been decapitated, broken automail, and now I am stuck here. I am never going to a quidditch match again in my fucking life,” he cursed silently.

“Definitely isn’t a pinnacle moment of your existence,” Mustang commented. Edward mocked him with a scoff.

“I thought quidditch seemed kind of fun. You should try it.” Alphonse spoke up.

“My brother is trying to kill me. Oh, great,” Edward said in disbelief.

“It wasn’t that bad. Excluding the freak incident with the ball. Admit it. You were rooting for Slytherin.”

“I don’t even understand how Gryffindor won! Slytherin was up 60-0. Why does catching a tiny little ball defeat everything else prior?” Edward complained as he had to admit that he was secretly rooting for Slytherin to win. Though, he would take that fact to the grave rather than tell Minerva. Edward discussed some highlights on the game with his brother but they gradually grew bored and he was left staring at the ceiling with nothing to do. What was taking Poppy so long? He glanced over to the ward’s office where he saw the shadow of the nurse poking around. She definitely was not going to let him go any time soon.

“You might be stuck here a while. Let’s look at that arm,” Winry piped up. Edward groaned but didn’t fight her as he knew he would have to fix it sooner or later. From experience he knew that there was only so much he could do with one arm.

 He slid his hand under his shirt and grabbed the release lever he installed. The squashed lump of useless metal fell out of the port and to the bed beside him. He hissed only slightly as the nerves disconnected but after years of doing it, it was nothing more than an irritation. Poppy seemed to sense his discomfort and poked her head out of her office to give him a glare. In annoyance, he waved his useless metal arm for her to see. She eyed him suspiciously but seemed to trust that he was just doing maintenance and withdrew back into her office. He dragged his arm onto his lap and began to run the basic diagnostics that Winry had taught him.

“Elbow cylinder and valve are completely crushed. Forearm and upper arm rods are probably bent if not broken. Aaaaaaaaand I’m fucked,” he concluded. The entire arm looked like it had gone through a hydraulic press. If that bludger hit him any harder, he would be staring at a wad of metal.

“Is there anything salvageable? What about the shoulder?” Edward turned it to look at the shoulder plug. He thumbed the metal there gently and shrugged.

“It’s salvageable but it’s old. Don’t think I really updated it since the Great War. Might be good to replace it.”

“So it’s a complete redo?” Edward closed his eyes and sighed in dismay.

“Yeah. Complete redo.”

“Haven’t done one of those in a while.”

“Haven’t done a complete redo single handed since I first came to this bloody castle. Literally going to have to stitch it together piece by piece.” When he first got to the castle back in 994AD, his arm was demolished beyond any and all repairs. Without mechanics being a thing during that time, he not only had to learn automail from scratch, but he had to draw individual transmutation circles for each nut and bolt of his arm. He would sneak off to an abandoned classroom and work with his alchemy on it so that no one could see his ‘wandless magic’. It took him an entire school year just to regain the use of two arms.

“At least you know how to now,” Winry said trying to lighten the mood. Despite being back down to a single arm, she was right. He didn’t have to learn mechanics, he just had to build it now. He could probably spell out the blueprints for his arm off the top of his head.

“It would be better if I had help,” he asked suggestively, though he knew the answer deep down.

“No.” Winry loved automail more than life itself, but she hated armor. While being a bodiless soul in the stone was not a walk in the park, she could not stand being in the armor. Edward had only casted her out a handful of times since he learned how. Each time she returned to the stone with a panic attack and in tears. She did not like the feeling of being alone and without her senses. She refused to leave the stone if there was any other option. He knew that she hated being alone in the armor, but he had to admit that he missed her. There was nothing more that he wished for than to go back to Resembool and get another wrench thrown at his head. A swirl of empathy picked up in the stone and soothed his homesickness.

“I’m sorry for asking,” Edward said honestly as he didn’t want her to feel like he was pressuring her to be in the armor.

“I’m sorry that I can’t.”

Edward got up from the bed despite the nurse’s warnings and made his way over to the hospital ward’s office. Poppy had left, presumably to go fetch Albus, so he raided the drawers for paper. He made a spot for himself down on the floor next to his bed and began spreading out to work. He didn’t know how long Poppy was going to have him stay there, but he refused to be idle. He began tearing apart his old arm piece by piece and alchemizing the new components one by one. He tossed the old parts to the side and piled the new ones neatly in front of him.

“Why don’t you just use magic to repair it?” Edward looked up to see Harry standing over him. He had gotten bored waiting for his arm bones to grow so he decided to come over and watch Edward literally build his own.

“The construction of my arm is very sensitive. One wrong wire can make it useless or even cause serious pain to my nerves. Magic, no matter how good or knowledgeable one is, for some reason can never do it right,” he answered truthfully. Edward had tried many times to whip up a quick repair with magic. However, every time he just managed to damage it more. Even something as simple as a dented plate could go awry and he would end up giving himself more work to do than when he started. “I guess magic and machines just don’t like to mix.”

“I can understand that,” the kid said. “Ron’s dad bewitched their family’s car to fly. It was very temperamental.” Harry watched as he alchemized another piece and set it off to the side.

“You said the bludger wasn’t an accident. Why?” Edward cursed to himself.

“You heard that?” The kid shrugged.

“I also heard that the bludger hit your head.”

“Yeah, but like I said before. I am very hard to keep down,” he smirked. Harry stared at him expectantly and Edward knew that he was going to have to explain himself. That kid wasn’t going to let the conversation go. He let out an exacerbated sigh.  “The speed at which that bludger was chasing you was enough to kill someone. If I didn’t have the stone, I would have been smeared across the pitch in a matter of seconds. If that bludger only broke your arm, it had to have pulled back at the last second to limit the impact. If it didn’t, you wouldn’t have an arm. Someone was trying to injure you, not kill you.”

“Not kill! Never kill Harry Potter!” a squeaky voice exclaimed. Edward jumped up from where he was sitting and spun around to see a house elf standing on his bed. While Hogwarts had employed its own hoard of house elves to tend the castle and the kitchens, they had their own sets of mismatched clothes that they chose whether to wear. This elf, Edward could tell, was still in enslavement judging by the grimy pillowcase that it wore.

“Dobby! What are you doing here?!” Harry scolded the ugly thing in shock.

“You know him?” Edward asked curiously. Harry looked absolutely annoyed like he wished the answer was no.

“Dobby came to warn Harry to go home! Not kill Harry,” the house elf said in earnest.

“You bewitched the bludger? You could have plastered someone’s insides across the stands if you weren’t careful!” Edward scolded the house elf. “Harry broke his arm. What more were you trying to do to him without killing him?” Dobby looked like he wanted to defend himself but only broke down into tears. He wiped his long snotty nose on his pillow case shirt, barely cleaner than the bandages on his hands.

 “Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Why couldn’t you listen to Dobby? Dobby can’t let anything bad happen to Harry. Not when Harry has been so good!” he cried.

“And being ripped to pieces by a bludger doesn’t qualify as bad,” Harry questioned flatly.

“If only Harry knew! It’s not safe at Hogwarts. Not when the Chamber of Secrets opened. Not with the Eastern Sage here!” The house elf froze as he glanced over to where Edward was standing in shock. In an instant, Dobby grabbed the metal skeleton of Edward’s automail and cracked it over his own head, falling to the floor. “Bad Dobby! Very bad Dobby!” he scolded himself as Edward forcefully yanked his arm back from the elf.

“This Chamber thing exists?!” Edward interrogated harshly. “What has it got to do with me? I am not going to hurt a student!”

“It isn’t what the Sage wants, it is what the Sage will have to do! Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen! Hogwarts is not safe!” The house elf lunged for Edward’s metal arm again. Harry grabbed the elf’s arm to prevent him from punishing himself again. The house elf fought weakly against the kid. Edward kept a tight hold of his arm but he couldn’t help but feel sadness from the stone overcome him. Dobby was enslaved and punishing himself for saving someone against his master’s orders. Edward couldn’t help but remember himself in his position. It must have been painful for Dobby to stand by. It must have been physically painful for him then to help. In either capacity he was being held hostage by his own loyalty.

“Edward, we are freed. He can be freed too,” he heard his father’s voice comment firmly.

“Yeah, but they never want to be.” Edward had struggled with the idea of house elf indentured servitude in the past. Both he and his father had experienced enslavement. His father was a slave under the kingdom of Xerxes, and Edward was under King Arthur. Both of them either worked their way out or fought their way out to freedom. House-elves though were loyal to the fault of their own safety. They refused to free themselves and waited for a savior to help them. Dobby imagined his to be Harry. Even worse, some never thought of themselves as enslaved. Edward tried many times to help them over the years, but each time he felt more helpless against it.

Harry struggled with Dobby to keep him away from his makeshift torture device. With the arm still relatively intact, Edward just popped the thing back into his arm port despite it being useless. Dobby slouched down and looked defeated at the loss of his self-punishment.

“Who is it, Dobby? Who opened the chamber?” Harry asked. Tears welled in the house elf’s eyes.

“Please sir. Dobby can’t sir. Dobby mustn’t tell! Ask no more of poor Dobby!” he squealed. “Dobby doesn’t have anymore fingers to iron.” Edward looked down at the house elf’s hands and saw them to be horribly bandaged with sweltering blisters poking out of them. His stomach turned as he saw the burns, self-inflicted to stay in the good graces of his master. Edward bit his lip and closed his eyes. He clapped his left hand to his useless right. With a snatch of Dobby’s blistered hands, there was an alchemical flash and the house elf’s tennis ball sized eyes widened in shock.

“The Eastern Sage healed Dobby,” he gasped. “So kind sir-“

“Don’t mention it.”

“Dobby is eternally grateful-“

“I said don’t mention it,” Edward bit out harshly. This made the elf, for once, silent.  “What is going on at this school? Why do you think it involves me?”

“History is to repeat itself now that the Chamber of Secrets is opened once more, sir. Why would history ever leave alone someone as powerful as the Boy Who Lived and the Eastern Sage?” Suddenly there were footsteps by the door of the Hospital Ward. Dobby’s big floppy ears perked up at the sound.

“Leave Hogwarts. Harry Potter must save himself!” the house elf cried one last time. A snap of his fingers had the house elf disappear in a cloud of dust. Harry could only look at his empty hand in shock before the door to the ward started to open. The kid scurried off to his own bed in fear of Poppy’s wrath while Edward stood clumsily to his feet, prepared to take on the nurse’s anger straight on. However, it never came.

As the doors of the ward opened, Edward saw not just Poppy, but Albus and Minerva as well. The headmaster and the transfigurations teacher were carrying a statue of some sort while Poppy fussed over them.

“Put him down over here,” the nurse instructed. It was only when they got closer that, to Edward’s horror, he saw it wasn’t a statue, but a student. He felt his blood run cold as the short little first year, Collin Creevey, was carried past him, frozen in the midst of taking a photograph.

“What happened?” Edward barely made out as his chest felt tight. Albus looked up at him, seemingly surprised that he was there.

“Another attack,” he answered solemnly.  Edward steeled himself to get closer. He gently held the student’s arm in hopes of assessing his state. It felt like rigor mortis had set in. He was as stiff as a board. “This time it wasn’t a cat. Minerva found him.”

“I was coming up to see if you were alright, Edward, but I saw him frozen. He looked to be carrying snacks to visit Potter.” The distress in Minerva’s voice was evident yet she remained as firm and focused as she could despite the hour of the night.

“He’s petrified,” Edward stated flatly as he remembered the stiff state of the cat just a few weeks past. Albus reached down and pried the kid’s camera out of his frozen grasp.

“Maybe,” the headmaster hummed. The four of them waited with baited breath in hopes that the kid managed to film their attacker. However, when the back of the camera was opened, plume of acidic smoke rose into the air.

“Oh my goodness,” Poppy gasped. “Who… Who could have done this?” Edward felt Albus’s eyes flicker towards him and he sent a glare back. But, as he looked at the headmaster, he realized that he wasn’t watching him accusingly, but desperately searching for answers. Albus didn’t know what was going on.

“Not who,” Albus whispered. “The Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened again. The question is, how.” The four of them looked amongst themselves. Despite knowing that was what happened, none of them understood it. None of them knew why.

……..

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 27

The True History of Magic

Hogwarts descended into an essence of silence. Fear rippled through the minds of the students and faculty as word about Creevey spread. People were too nervous to talk about what happened in fear of being targeted next. A rift was being created in the student body between purebloods and muggleborn students. Each were scared of the other. No one knew what this chamber entailed. No one knew what it would bring.

Edward didn’t know of the legends of the Chamber of Secrets. He was accused of being Slytherins heir after the first petrification, but he didn’t know what the chamber was, nor did he know that it had been opened in the past. The idea of Professor Slytherin enacting his genocide scared him. He knew the man’s hatred for muggles firsthand. To imagine that it descended generations as a physical place, an actual monster, frightened him. Hogwarts was not prepared for the unadulterated power of Salazar Slytherin just as he hadn’t been back then.

Despite the fear and uncertainty, the school carried on. Teachers tried to teach class while ignoring the tension in the air. Students tried to learn to protect themselves. Edward caught several of them creating and selling magical protection and luck trinkets to each other. He knew that they would not work, but he saw that it put them at ease, so he made a few himself to hand out.

While the whole school was in a panic, Edward was frustrated that he was still down an arm. Without the weekend, his teaching schedule ate up a lot of his time that he needed to reconstruct his automail. Not only this, but due to his attention being towards his class, Gilderoy managed to sneak by and attempt to fix his automail not once, but twice. Meaning, he had to restart several times over. Being unable to clap and transmute his pieces meant a lot of work and even more paper. Edward was getting tired of it.

For some peace and quiet, Edward had taken the small parts that he could assemble to the library where he occupied the far back table. It was the best place to work when it was empty as there was a good supply of parchment at the front desk. Stacked up on paper, Edward began his painstaking work of drawing out each transmutation circle for each individual part of his arm. The bolts were easy to measure and make, being of the standard sizes, but measurements of the arm plating’s and support rods took longer as they needed to be precise and unique.

“Forearm rod length is 9.25 inches,” he heard Winry say as he was doing a botched job of trying to measure his only arm. “And don’t forget to adjust for joint clearance.”

“Thanks,” he grunted as he spat the slide gauge out of his mouth and jotted down the number in his notes. Needing more paper, Edward got up to go to the circulation desk. He mentally prepped himself for a fight with Irma, who by his first day there had a blood vengeance for him. He wrapped his hand on the desk to get the librarian’s attention. She spun around with the most blood curdling stare.

“No need for books today but you’re deciding to tear up my floors with your alchemy.”

“I only needed a little bit. You can barely notice,” Edward defended himself. Though he was reusing much of the metal from his original arm as he remolded it into the proper form, he did lose some pieces when the bludger crashed into him meaning that he had to get just a bit more material from the castle around him. “If you want I can just melt down that tin can of armor you got down there and we won’t have to worry about the floors.” Irma looked back at the shiny suit of metal standing against the wall.

“That’s an antique!”

“It’s mislabeled. Single piece breast plates weren’t used until the 14^th century not the 11^th century. Not to mention the helm is from Italy and the sabatons are from Germany,” Edward commented. “I believe if you were to look in the armory you would find that Peeves messed with it again.” Irma huffed to herself as she looked at the mismatched armor and knew he was right. She crossed her arms angrily and glowered at him.

“What do you want?”

“More paper please!” he said cheerily, and she reluctantly grabbed a stack of parchment and handed it to him. He fumbled with holding the rather large stack in his single hand but made his way back towards his work desk in peace. As he was walking, he noticed a familiar student with a very large book in her hands. One, he knew, that she didn’t need for any of her classes.

“What do you have there?” Hermione looked up at him as he stopped at her table.

“Just schoolwork.” She tried to cover up her work but he already saw it. Moste Potente Potions. It was a rather gruesome book. Half of the potions were horrifyingly useless such as making your hair turn into spiders. The rest were poisons which were something a student shouldn’t be making. Edward thought the only good potion in that book was the Laxative which he highly doubted Hermione was trying to make.

“Uh huh,” he said skeptically. “How did you get that one out of the restricted section?”

“It’s for Professor Lockhart’s class. Gaddling with Ghouls was a bit confusing when talking about venoms so-“

“You are the smartest student in my class. If you don’t understand a word of that man’s fantastical fiction writing, my faith in humanity is lost,” he stated flatly. Though she was being called out on her lie, it seemed Hermione was grateful for the compliment. She probably didn’t get enough of them from teachers. “I know Potter overheard about Creevey being petrified. Half the school knows about this Chamber thing. If you are up to what I think you are, you better not be.”

“I’m not,” she said earnestly. Edward eyed her for a couple more seconds. She reminded him so much of himself back in Amestris. He and Alphonse would ignore his commander and go off galivanting into trouble with the fifth laboratory and the stone. It had lead to many adventures, but even he knew that he was extremely reckless looking back. Anyone else probably would have gotten killed.

“Oh look. Fullmetal is finally growing up.” Edward rolled his eyes at Mustang’s snarky comment. Eventually let out a huff and resituated his paper in his arms. He headed off to his own table again to regain the momentum that he had lost on his work. Edward worked on his arm throughout the lunch period and managed to get the skeleton of his automail completed once more. He gently worked on tightening the screws until he felt a draft of cold air behind him.

“Paracelsus, might I have a word?” he heard a dull voice say behind him. Hearing his old name, Edward felt a spark of anger fly through him. He spun around to give the person a good scolding to only to see the wall of books behind him through a silvery haze. He paused and looked up to see the ghostly form of Professor Cuthbert Binns floating behind him. His anger dissipated.

“Oh, hi,” he said calmly. He had a good reputation amongst the ghosts of Hogwarts castle. He was friends with most of them as he could relate to much of what each of them had to say. Not that many wanted to engage with the lively world more than they had to, but many ghosts felt left out when they could not get the newer generation to understand their stories or past lives. Edward got along with many of them, the only odd one being Helena. Even then, she was shy around anyone but him, so he thought that had to count for something.

“As you might know, I am the History of Magic teacher. We are set to have a class discussion on a few topics in the post-classical era and need some fact checking. Many of my students think that filling magical history with legends and folklore is a good use of their time. I teach only the facts. None of this nonsense.”

“As you should,” Edward nodded in agreement, making the dead professor do what he could call an attempted smile.

“It would be greatly appreciated if you can come to my next period and talk about some firsthand experiences from the era to lay their worries to rest.” The dulldrum voice of the ghost nearly put Edward to sleep. However, despite the Cuthbert’s bland expression, it seemed he was passionate enough about the subject to come all the way to the library to find him.

“I don’t know. I have to rebuild my arm,” Edward said hesitantly. He really needed to finish it. Using only one arm was driving him insane and was greatly limiting his alchemy. However, he had been working on it all day. Unlike Winry, he could not pull all-nighters with automail, especially when he was slowed down by having to construct every individual piece. A break would have been appreciated. “What topics were you discussing?”

“With the legends of the Chamber coming back, my class has become curious as to the origins of the prejudice between muggles and wizards. We just started the discussion on the separation of the wizarding and muggle worlds,” the ghost confirmed. “Specifically, we are looking at the creation of the Statute of Secrecy in 1692.” Edward hummed in distaste as he thought about it.

“I don’t know much about the creation of the Statute itself. I had left magic alone since the early 1300s though that didn’t stop me from having a run in with it every now and then. However, that Statute was a long time coming. That debate started far earlier around the time of the first crusade,” he noted. Binn’s bland expression lightened only slightly at the conversation about history.

“So, it seems you know your stuff. I had originally mentioned to the class the origins of the muggle and wizard split, but there isn’t a lot of information on it. It would do the class good to get some insider perspective on things. If you wouldn’t mind, I think they, as well as myself, would like to hear what you had to say on the topic,” the ghost asked politely. Edward bit his lip hesitantly. He had to admit that he wasn’t too keen on digging up the crusades again.

“The racism between wizards and muggles has been going on for a long time. Maybe the kids here need an old perspective,” Hohenheim suggested. “Everyone is pointing fingers. They might want to know who actually pointed them first.” His father was right. After hearing that the chamber had been opened, previous prejudices have been rising in the student body. Many of the students were labeling each other as muggle-born or pureblood as they feared who would be attacked next.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I can talk to them if you want.”

“Delightful!” Cuthbert cheered though it sounded barely different from his normal drawl. “My room is on the first floor. I can show you.” The ghost waited for Edward to pack up his things. He had a canvas bag that he piled all of his papers and parts into and alchemized it shut. Gilderoy’s most recent attempt to show him up on his ‘magical expertise’ had occurred when the man snuck into his bag and casted the restoration charm on his automail. Edward was now taking all and every precaution to prevent him from having to restart yet again.

The history professor led him through the castle towards the first floor. Together they shared light conversation on ‘ye old days’ where Cuthbert had said students started to lack work ethic past 1850 when they started to incorporate mechanics into the wizarding world.

“New technology only pushes us towards the future. No one appreciates the past,” he complained. Edward nodded his head in agreement and they dove further into discussing the rise of passenger trains. Eventually, he followed the ghostly professor into the classroom where he saw a bunch of students fast asleep. With Cuthbert’s long drawling speech, he could imagine that students would constantly be falling asleep in his class. However, he didn’t realize that it was so bad that they had fallen asleep before the class even began.

“Everyone, I would like your full attention on Professor Paracelsus here. He is going to give you some perspective on the Statute of Secrecy we have been discussing,” the professor announced. The change in tone seemed to be enough to wake some of the students from their slumber. They looked around in confusion when they saw Edward standing there.

“What have you learned about the Statute of Secrecy so far?” he asked them. There was a rustle of parchment as the students flurried to look through their notes. A hand raised in the air.

“Wizards from all over the world decided to make it illegal to use magic in view of Muggles unless in defense,” Ron Weasley said surprisingly without reading his book. Edward had heard from Harry about the car incident. He supposed Minerva had beat the Statute into him as punishment.

“Why?” The students looked at each other.

“Because blood thirsty muggles were attacking wizards and witches for their power. They decided to protect us by separating the states,” Edward heard Draco Malfoy answer matter of factly.

“It wasn’t just attacks from muggles on wizards, but wizards on muggles too. Remember the great wizarding war? They tried to exterminate the muggles!” Hermione defended. The room descended into an argument on who was right. Edward dropped his head into his hand. This was going to be annoying but at least he knew that Hohenheim was right. These kids needed a new perspective.

“Shut up!” He scolded them which caused the room to quiet down. “You are both right!”

“But how can we both be right? Someone had to start it!” Draco defended as he shot another glare towards Hermione.

“The muggle and wizarding world have been split for a very long time, even before the Statute was made,” Edward explained. “Where there is power, there is always someone trying to use it. In the case of this great divide it was both wizards and muggles who sought after this power at the same time. Two wars simultaneously occurring and simultaneously ending in chaos and bloodshed for both sides.”

“What were the wars?” Harry asked.

“The war from the muggle side was the First Crusade. The war from the wizard side was called the War of Camlann, less known but all the more deadly,” Edward explained.

“I don’t think we learned about those yet,” Hermione said. Edward looked to the professor to make sure, and he simply shook his head. It wasn’t in their scope of learning which was understandable. Many texts and records did not survive this era. The one thing that did was Edward himself.

“The crusades were a series of wars falsely fought in the name of Christianity and God. To put it plainly, it was a religious extermination campaign from Europe to the Middle East.” Whispers rose up amongst the students as the muggle-born students tried to describe what they knew to the wizarding kids who knew nothing on muggle wars. “The other one, the War of Camlann,” Edward continued, “was a wizarding extermination campaign against the muggles of Great Britain. It was better known as the prophecy of Merlin and the legend of King Arthur.”

“But who started these wars? Someone had to, right?” another student asked. Edward looked out amongst the class. They all sat patiently waiting, eyes flicking towards one another judgmentally. Each thought themselves right, but none of them could be more wrong. Edward knew exactly who was to blame for the divide of the wizarding and muggle communities. Though both sides played a part it was over a single person that the world had cracked in two. Edward took a deep breath and hardened his glare at them. He needed to tell the facts of history. He needed to give them a new perspective. However, while he would tell the students the true history of the magical world, he would omit one key truth.

He was the one to blame.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 28

A Human Weapon

Edward watched as the students of Hogwarts bustled through the rows of what was currently the largest wizarding library in Europe. Many wizards brought their own texts from the outside world to dedicate to the library. Some students even had random texts that Edward would read and translate for the compendium. He alone managed to grow the library exponentially throughout the years. His research, though, stayed as stagnant as he was.

While many wizards and witches, young and old, left the castle after learning their due, Edward remained. He watched as students grew older, graduated, and were quickly replaced by the next rising class. His friend, Merlin Ambrosius, graduated several decades prior with high honors, a knack for puzzles, and a strong desire to help the muggle community. Whereas Edward was held safely away from the muggles after his horrible encounter with the Duke of Hervor, Merlin yearned to unite the wizards and muggles safely together. He was an advocate for everyone and worked closely with the King to bring his dreams to reality. Edward would have easily given him his old Amestrian title, ‘Hero of the people’. If newspapers were a thing, Edward was sure that he would be reading of his friend’s amazing achievements in them. However, as they had yet to make a printing press, they had resorted to letters. Weekly, he would hear about Merlin’s great adventures such as taking on a wilful apprentice, something he cherished very deeply. While Merlin explored the world and grew older, he remained the same.

Edward was the castle’s longest inhabitant, a cryptid amongst the current student body. He remained at the castle for as long as King Arthur willed it, and he had been willing it for a very long time. While he was not confined to the castle, being the King’s property meant that he could not venture far without being harassed or captured. He had tried apparating away only once, but he only found himself back in King Arthur’s courtroom under threat of chain and imprisonment. His wand was enchanted to prevent apparition. Stuck there, Edward did the only thing he could do. He taught, he researched, and he watched all of his friends grow old without him. The world revolved but he stayed in place.

The library that day was relatively busy as he sat there reading a more recent book on the power of apparating to unknown locations. Apparating was a difficult task which grew even more dangerous with unknown terrain and distance. Many people lost life or limb attempting to apparate into the unknown. But, there was expected to be an entire world beyond Europe that was left to be explored. Many wizards wanted to be the first and so the experiments continued.

“Do you think we could apparate to a different universe?” he heard his brother ask. He shrugged.

“Maybe we can try if I ever get my wand fixed,” he replied as he watched a nearby student give him a weird look for talking to himself. He barked at them to mind their own business and they scurried away. Before he could return to his own book, a voice cleared above him. Glancing up, he saw the strong yet elderly form of Professor Gryffindor giving him a judgmental look.

“I am sure Rowena would be very upset about your care for others in the library,” the man scolded him lightly. Edward looked down in shame. Wizards, he learned, had very long lifespans. He didn’t know if it was because the magic kept them alive or if there was extra fiber in their diet, but most lived well beyond a hundred and thirty. Rowena, unfortunately, did not. She got the swelling several years ago.

A sudden hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Something has happened,” Gryffindor said. The stiffness to his voice alerted Edward that something was wrong. Gryffindor always held a bold personality, jolly even. He was always up for a fun competition and his sense of humor and optimism made him a welcoming presence at Hogwarts. It was something that had only gotten stronger with age. However, now, Gryffindor showed no signs of his usual self. It was not good news.

“Perhaps, this would be better to discuss in my classroom.”

Edward packed up his notes while Gryffindor grabbed his books for him. He had been prepared to check out the books with the librarian, but Gryffindor returned them instead and shook his head. He was guided out of the library, empty-handed for the first time. Not a word was spoken as they walked to Gryffindor’s classroom in silence. When they arrived, Gryffindor opened the door for him but Edward could not get his feet to move inside. Waiting by the desk with his arms crossed in impatience was Salazar Slytherin.

Edward had hoped that he would never have to see Slytherin again. Throughout his time studying at the school, Slytherin had routinely tried to train him in Dark arts and increasingly dangerous spells. Some of them could not be cast without loss of life, something that Slytherin exploited him for many times. Every time Edward messed up, Slytherin would punish him with detention for being weak. While detention in his grade school back in Amestris was beating chalk out of erasers, detention in there was no laughing matter. This was all bearable, however. Edward took whatever he had to because he knew that the dungeons back in England were darker and colder than the dingy classrooms there. That was until Slytherin saw Edward’s alchemy for the first time. After seeing Edward transmute something, he knew the power could be weaponized. He tried to convince Edward to cleanse the school of the filth that was the muggle-born students. When he refused, he tried to get him to do it by force.

“Remember what those muggles have done to you. They tortured you and trapped you because you were different. They should be the ones who burn.”

Gryffindor had caught hold of that conversation and quickly ended it, terminating Slytherin’s stay at the school and ultimately their friendship in a violent fight that would be known about for ages. Edward had not seen nor heard of Slytherin until that day.

A firm hand guided Edward into the classroom and the door closed behind him. Gryffindor did not seem happy with Slytherin being there, but he did not voice his opinion. It seemed whatever argument that they had over him had already been settled.

“Paracelsus, you have been summoned by the King. Salazar is here by his order to escort you,” Gryffindor explained stiffly.

“Why?” Edward asked quietly. His throat was tight and he felt himself grow uncertain. Slytherin snapped at him for speaking up.

“Because you are the King’s property, and you will do as you are told.” Gryffindor held up his hand to silence the other wizard.

“Always with questions, as one would expect,” he said with a sad smile yet did not answer him. Gryffindor knew what the King had called him for but seemed very reluctant to tell him. There was probably nothing he could do to keep him from going. It seemed that he was instead using his limited time to simply say his goodbyes.

Edward watched as he turned around and took his delicately balanced sword from its mount on the wall. He motioned for Edward to come closer. With only one second of hesitation, he did. Gryffindor held the sword out gently for him to look at.

“I do not know, Paracelsus, if our paths will cross again, just like none of us can know what the future might bring,” the deep voice of his teacher said to him calmly. “The only thing we can do is go on with courage in our hearts and hope in our step.” Edward’s eyes widened as he realized, with his professor’s solemn tone, that wherever he was going, he would not be returning for a long time. Gryffindor carefully tilted the sword towards him, hilt first. He wanted him to take it. 

The smooth polished metal was cool to the touch and light in his hand. It gleamed like the fire that had made it. He had often sparred against this sword as Gryffindor taught him the art of swordsmanship beyond anything he ever knew before. However, he did not believe that he would ever have earned the right to hold it.

“Bravery and loyalty, Paracelsus, that is what I stand for,” Godric said. “It isn’t bravery on the battlefield or the loyalty to a power that counts. It is the loyalty to a belief and the strength to stand up for it that is the true weight of a man. However, having a sword at your side never hurts.” Despite being under the tutorship of Ravenclaw, Gryffindor did all he could to teach and bring Edward up to his true potential. Now, as he was being sent off, Gryffindor was practically saying that it was all worth it. Though he was a Ravenclaw, this founder had considered him a Gryffindor the entire time.

Without explanation, Edward hugged his professor tightly. Though surprised, Gryffindor returned it earnestly. With this, he knew that would be the last time he would see his professor.

“Might I remind you, that the King himself is waiting,” the slimy voice of Slytherin crept out. Griffindor patted him lightly on the back before taking a step back.

“No matter what happens, strike true.” A thin bony hand rested on his shoulder and a chill racked up his spine. Slytherin's fingers dug into his shoulder possessively and guided him away from Professor Gryffindor.

“Muggle lovers like you two will finally see what they are capable of,” he heard the man hiss. He raised his wand to apparate out of the castle. Before Edward felt the pull of his nasals, he watched the brave face of Gryffindor fall into despair. With a bang, they were gone.

……….

When Edward landed, he arrived to find King Arthur’s throne room filled with armored guards. An ambush of soldiers attacked him before he even touched down. He was shoved to the ground in a second. The knights thrust his arms into heavily chained stocks as Edward yelled and fought to get them off him. He felt fear strike in his chest as hand upon hand piled on him to keep him pinned down. A flurry of fear in the stone ignited and overwhelmed him as he struggled pitifully against them.

“Brother, what’s happening?” he heard Alphonse’s voice tremble amongst the many who were just as confused as he was. A heavy knee on his back knocked the wind out and left him gasping for air. As he opened his mouth to take a breath, he felt a cold familiar piece of metal slide into it.

“No!” he wailed and thrashed his head in an attempt to keep them from putting it back on. It had been years since he had last felt the cold metal of the mask, but it was all too familiar to him. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that they had gotten rid of it, but he had wished it was so. Why was it back? Why were they doing this? He had done only what the King asked. He wasn’t supposed to go to the dungeon if he did what he was told. The piercing screams and chaos of the stone that sounded in his ears were silenced as the mask was clamped around his head. Yet, the panic and fear that swirled in the stone remained in him.

“Thank you, Salazar, for making this trip. I was afraid that this task would be too personal for Merlin,” a familiar voice said. Through a gap in the guards, Edward saw Slytherin hand the elderly King Arthur his wand. The snake must have slipped it out of his pocket when they apparated. Slytherin brought forth the sword that was ripped out of Edward’s hands. The King looked at it in wonder and took it as well.

“This was also a gift from Godric for Paracelsus. I suggest he keep it. He’s going to need it where he’s going.”

“Already prepared, just as a soldier should be.” Arthur’s cold eyes looked up to where he was struggling, and Edward felt his blood boil. He wanted to yell and snap at the King for his betrayal, but his rage only released as a terrified scream. The King chuckled at his torment. He raised his hand to order the guards to take him away but before he could make the command, someone shouted across the room.

“Paracelsus!” someone exclaimed in shock. As Edward struggled to breathe through the mask he saw the horrified face of his friend Merlin. Age had set in where the years had taken their toll. His once earthen brown hair was now white as snow. The wrinkles on his elderly face held onto every last ounce of fear and confusion that he was feeling. Merlin was horrified. “What are you doing to him?! I thought you got rid of that thing!”

“Hello, Merlin,” Arthur said as he greeted his oldest advisor. “I have just recalled Paracelsus to serve his purpose.”

“Purpose?! We are going to war! He should be marching alongside us not chained like an animal!”

“Not an animal, a weapon.”

“He is a person!”

“One strong enough to change the tides of war in the blink of an eye, whether it be for England,” Arthur said stiffly and with a hollowed glare towards Edward, “or against it.”

“But-“

“I am your King! To protect the sanctity of our nation, my word is law. Or have you forgotten that?!” Arthur yelled. Merlin closed his mouth, and his defenses crumbled. Seeing his advisor upset, Arthur let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. “You are my friend, Merlin, but I need to protect my people. England was called to arms for the sake of Christ himself. But, because of local distress caused by your apprentice, I cannot send my main guard on foreign affairs. They need to stay here to protect their homelands. Your squadron of magicians and he will go fight alongside the French forces and win the holy land in the name of England.”

“But why does this mean he must be restrained?” Merlin asked cautiously. “I am sure if given the choice, he would help protect us willingly.” Arthur glanced over to where Edward was tied. He continued to struggle against the knights. Through his heavy exhausted breaths, he sent a blood-curdling glare towards his captor. The King’s mind was then made up.

“As much as I want to trust him. A power like that on the battlefield cannot be left to chance,” he said firmly.

“Surely he can’t be as strong as you imagine.”

“When we release him on the field, I am sure you we will come to see what powers he holds.” With a wave of his hand, the knights surrounding Edward grappled him to his feet. He fought and he kicked in rage as they dragged him away. Fear consumed him as he knew the guards were going to take him back to the one place he never wanted to be again. He lashed out with all his might to not see the inside of the dungeon again. Seeing his panicked struggle, Merlin chased after him.  

“Paracelsus! It will be okay. I will ensure it!” he heard his friend cry out to him. Before Merlin could finish, his words were cut off as the doors of the dungeon closed around him.

…………

The dungeon was dark and damp as the spring days were beginning to thaw it. Edward stared up at the dingy ceiling as his mind started to spiral. Despite exhaustion, every small movement had him jarred awake. He expected a knife to the ribs or a sword to his throat. However, it never came. He was left in the solitude of his cell.

The night ticked on, and Edward’s mind wandered to his friends. Silence consumed him and he wished to hear his brother’s voice again. He didn’t know how long the mask would stay on this time. It could be days, it could be years that he wouldn’t be able to hear anyone in the stone. He was hurt and betrayed, but on top of it all, he was horribly alone.

The door to the dungeon opened up and a light shone down through the darkness. Edward picked up his heavy head and quickly got to his feet to see who was coming. Even with his arms heavily chained, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight. They would have to stick ten knives or more in him if they wanted to hear him cry. A light rounded the hallway and revealed Arthur who had come to see him alone. Upon catching sight of him, the King smiled. Edward remembered that hungry grin the first time he met him. He wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face.

“Paracelsus,” he said like they were long-time friends. “The years have gone and yet here you are, untouched by age. Might I say I am a little jealous seeing my youth disappear while yours remains.” Arthur hung up the torch on the wall and pulled out one of the guard’s stools for himself. He was planning for a long chat, though Edward could not be one to talk at the moment. The mouth of the mask bit hard into his mouth, silencing the many words Edward had for his supposed ruler.

“I am sure you know this is only temporary. You will head with the troops to Antioch tomorrow. Should be a change of pace from being in that dingy school all the time.” Edward couldn’t say anything, but he didn’t even try. Arthur seemed displeased with a lack of reaction from him.

“I am sorry to treat Merlin’s friend like this, but I have no other choice,” he said honestly. “There is too much for England to lose if we don’t help secure our Christian name. But there is even more to lose if we let our guard down here. You and Merlin will be regarded as heroes, legends in the name of our Lord!”

“Fuck you!” Edward tried to bark, but the mask choked out his argument. In frustration, he tugged furiously on his chains to get the mask off but to no prevail. Arthur smirked cruelly as he watched him struggle.

“Merlin had hopes that you would join us willingly just as the other wizards have. I knew better than that,” he hummed quietly. “You are our key to success or our greatest downfall. Should you try anything, anything at all, I will without hesitation eliminate all that you cherish so much. That school, those Professors, and Merlin.” Edward froze as his blood went cold. He looked up at the King with wide eyes. Merlin had been friends with Arthur for years. It was their friendship that originally freed him from the Duke’s dungeon. Yet now, Arthur was threatening to murder him in cold blood. Arthur must have been desperate to resort to that. He was leveraging the safety of his nation against the life of his own friend. Edward felt sick.

“Yes, it would be a shame, wouldn’t it? He is one of my dearest friends. I would trust him with my life. But our nation is a stake here. I need to ensure that England will live to see another day, whether it be in Jerusalem, or on the Homefront. He won’t be harmed as long as you fight for England and win this war.” A loud crash rattled through the dungeon as Edward kicked out through the bars of the cell. His angered yells sounded like the crazed howls of a madman through the bit of the mask. Arthur barely flinched and simply took a step out of range to avoid his fury.

“I suggest you make the correct choice here,” Arthur noted without regard to Edward’s state. He picked up the torch from where he holstered it on the wall and turned to leave. He paused for a second and looked over his shoulder back towards Edward. A pained look of sadness flashed through his eyes before it was replaced with his cruel hard gaze. “For my friend’s sake, I desperately hope you do.”

With that, Edward was plunged back into the darkness of his own solitude. The chains that once felt heavy on his arms now felt nonexistent. The weight of the world instead came down and rested on his heart. It held him hostage to his own morality. As the anger and fury settled, he was overcome with waves of despair. He was in every scenario, a human weapon. He just needed to decide against whom he would pull the trigger.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 29

The First Crusade

Edward sat in the back of the rickety cart as a small Platoon of soldiers made their way through the vast lands of Europe towards the Holy Wars. They were all riding alongside on horseback or foot, layered in coats of chainmail, emblazoned with the cross of their Lord. Edward laid heavily in the cart as the mail, chains, and the mask weighed down on him. He wondered, dully, what kind of savior they believed in would wish the blade over a helping hand.

It had been weeks since they started their journey, and it would be a few more till they made it to their destination. They were headed to a city known as Antioch, somewhere he only knew from maps and stories. Apparently, they have been laying siege to the city for months now with no success. A miracle would be needed for the city to be taken. He guessed that they thought that miracle was an immortal alchemist.

“Are you hungry?” Edward looked up to see Merlin peering over the sides of the cart at him. Edward’s silence was taken as a yes and the wizard uncorked a bottle of nutrition potion he had. The mask had not been removed since it was put on him. It made eating nearly impossible. There was a clang of chains and metal as Edward sat up. He took the flask from his friend and swallowed what he could. He winced.

Raspberries.

They continued a little further in silence. The clopping of hooves and the clatter of shields rattled through the fields. Despite the tough conditions, the open air of summer was calm. It made his suffering only mildly better. Merlin had tried many times to convince the guard to give him the key to his mask. While Edward was tortured inside of the metal contraption, he could see how much it pained Merlin to see him like that. It was only a few decades earlier that Merlin had freed him from the mask’s original hold. To see him back where he began was devastating for his friend to witness. Unfortunately for them both, it didn’t appear that it would be removed until the key was handed over to their awaiting counterpart.

“I wanted to tell you, Paracelsus, that I didn’t know,” Merlin said sadly. “I knew Arthur was sending me on the crusades for my own sake. I didn’t know he was going to drag you into it like he did.” Edward, unable to speak, wrapped his knuckles on the side of the cart and did his best to motion to his friend to explain.

“Oh, I guess there is a lot I haven’t told you,” he said after getting the idea. “We have been apart for so long, some things are difficult to write in letters.” Merlin lacked his usual confidence as he spoke. Age was wearing on him. He was tired.

“I guess I should tell you that I did something fairly stupid. Might be the reason Ravenclaw never cared for me.” Edward snorted a chuckle through his mask. He was right about that. Merlin was the biggest pain in Ravenclaws side ever since Edward arrived at the castle. He would kidnap Edward on small adventures even while he was still recovering. He was probably the reason Edward got half the detentions he did. Hearing his attempt at a laugh brought a tired smile to his friend’s face. One that vanished when he thought about his next words.

“I told you that I took on an apprentice, Morganna. She is a bright young witch. Reminds me of your tenacity while also having a lot of Professor Slytherin’s ambition. I originally wasn’t going to coach her but… Paracelsus, I really tried my hands with fate,” Merlin admitted solemnly. “She has a prophecy, you see. A horrid one that describes her as a weapon of purification, something that I am supposed to thwart with my own death. I thought maybe if I helped her, she could help the muggles and I can stop the prophecy. What a fool I am to challenge fate.

“She’s the one Arthur is afraid of. She’s been causing a ruckus against the muggles, gathering riots, and storming muggle villages. Arthur’s afraid that she will come after me and finish the prophecy herself. So… he sent me on this crusade to get me away. I didn’t imagine he would bring you into this. It really is my fault.” Merlin’s eyes became watery and Edward felt the true remorse he had for the whole situation. He thought Edward wouldn’t have been tied up as a weapon if he had just gone along with the prophecy instead of fighting against fate. Edward didn’t think the prophecy had anything to do with it. Arthur would have sent him as a weapon no matter what. Maybe it wouldn’t have been this campaign. Maybe it would have been the next, but it was what the king had bought him for.

Edward punched Merlin in the arm roughly, nearly knocking him from his horse. The chains rattled as he pulled back, covering up the many curses that flew out of the old man’s mouth. He looked at the glare that Edward as giving him and understood. Edward didn’t blame him. He smiled sadly.

“I feel like a coward, running away to a different country. I just want to help the muggles however I can. I don’t think I can do that dead.” Merlin looked truly upset at his own actions, but his ambitions to help mugglekind were strong. Helping with the crusade might have been a way to keep England afoot just like Arthur said. Though he was running away from his prophecy, Edward didn’t think him much of a coward. What coward ran into battle?

Despite being unable to respond, Merlin continued to talk to Edward to keep him company on the long journey. They wound through the countryside from state to state. Edward thought it was absolutely ridiculous that they cared so much for a place so far away, but that was the intensity of love some people had for their religions. Edward knew firsthand the lengths people would go through to celebrate their religions. He had seen people pray for days unmoving to mourn the loss of a brother. He’s met many Ishvalans who were lost without guidance away from their holy lands. Religions provided faith, support, and more importantly, hope. Hope was an amazing power, and something that Edward struggled with every day.

Merlin stopped talking suddenly and Edward looked up. He was staring off into the distance at a plume of black smoke. The smell of fire and burning oil stung his nose as he sat up to look. In the distant town they were passing sat a burning temple. Edward didn’t recognize the symbol that was on it in place of the Christian’s cross. The star perched under the arch of the building’s frame stood consumed in flames. Cheers of song and dance barely overshadowed the screams of fear as people around it danced in satanic celebration. The troops in their platoon continued to march along, none giving heed to the scene before them.

“We are still hundreds of miles away from Antioch,” Merlin stiffly said in distaste. It appeared that the crusaders decided to start their campaign in their own home states. A sickening feeling dropped into his stomach. While hope and love were fostered in many religions, Edward had also seen the zealots twist their vile hatred into the mix. Their tortured form of religion paved the path to extermination and war. He saw it with Amestris, he saw it with Father Cornello, and now he didn’t doubt that he was seeing it again in the form of a crusade.

Edward watched as the pilar of flames disappeared over the horizon, yet the screams and taunting music still played in his head.

……

They arrived at Antioch in the sweltering heat of June. Many of their soldiers, ill equipped for the heat, laid exhausted and dehydrated. Edward was forced to walk the last hundred miles as their own men began dropping. The metal that hung to his skin cooked him more than his automail in the midst of the heat wave. He struggled to haul the weight and hike through the mask. If the stone would allow him to die, he was sure he wouldn’t see the city. Yet, as the morning broke, they saw fields of thousands of soldiers surrounding the sturdy untouched walls of Antioch. Edward found himself in awe at the sheer volume of people who kept the city under siege. It was like waves of an ocean streaked in white and red of the crusader’s cross.

Their platoon made it around the side of the city towards the main encampment. French scouts were there to meet them, and guided them towards their tents to rest. As they made their way through the sea of new faces, Edward felt himself grow tense. Marred, boney faces of soldiers glowered at them from where they were resting on the earth. The smell of death and decay was present on each one of them. It was like they were all willing to rot away for the sake of their mission and their own everlasting soul. Edward steeled his stomach and kept his eyes on the ground.

 As their group settled down, Merlin was taken into a tent to talk with the leaders they were supposed to meet. Edward wanted to follow, but the guard who held his chain kept him anchored outside. They needed to wait their turn. As Edward stood there, many of the crusaders passed by with a disgusted look thrown towards them. Many of them made mocking comments towards, not only Edward, but also many of the English soldiers and wizards that came with them.

“Look at them,” one of the crusaders snidely said, “the English mock us by sending only a handful of magicians. What do you expect to do? Beg them to give us the walls?” The crusaders descended into laughter at their expense.

“At least they had the brains to capture one. Probably all they could manage.” One of the knights walked up to Edward and banged a heavy gauntlet across his mask. “Ugly thing aint he? No wonder God looked down on you.” Edward growled and lifted his leg, kicking the knight square in the gut. The weight of his armor came crashing down to the mudded ground with a loud thud. A roar of laughter picked up from the other men.

“Oi you!” the knight roared as he struggled to lift himself to his feet. He looked like he was about to get a swing in at him but his guard stood in the way.

“Mind yourself,” the guard threatened. “He isn’t a prisoner.”

“Not a prisoner? Why the chain?”

“He is going to win us Antioch and this war,” a voice came out. Edward turned around to see a well-dressed man in chainmail with a crown over his head. A coat of arms was worn over his surcoat rather than the cross. This was a Prince. With his presence, the knights and other crusaders stood down and the Prince motioned for Edward to be brought in.

 His guard roughly grabbed Edward by his stocks and dragged him into the tent. The air inside was hot and stale with the smell of sweat. Around a large map sat several men, dressed similarly to the Prince. They were arguing with each other. When they caught sight of Edward, their conversation quieted down.

“This is him?” he heard one of them whisper. “He is nothing but a child! That English King said he was going to send a weapon! He’s barely fuel for their fire!”

“Along with being a wizard, your lordship, Paracelsus is… special,” Merlin tried to defend him sensitively.

“Yeah? Well have him get us through that damn wall and then I will start to consider that King Arthur isn’t screwing us over!” another man argued.

“If you will, Paracelsus might be able to aid you in planning if we can remove his mask,” Merlin suggested slyly. They narrowed their eyes at him suspiciously.

“And let him attack us?” one accused. “We heard that mask kept him tamed.”

“Well, if you want to use Paracelsus’s power, he probably is the best one to describe how to use it I would imagine.” There was a murmur amongst them but before long they were nodding their heads and one procured his key. Edward barely stopped himself from gasping as a servant approached him with the key for his mask. A wave of excitement and relief flooded him as he heard the click of the lock and the heavy iron collapsed to the ground.

“Brother!” he heard his brother exclaim. The sound of his friends in the stone brought tears to his eyes. He brought his shackled hands up to his face to feel the cool relief of his skin against his hand.

“Quick. If you get your arms free you can escape-“ his brother started to tell him but Edward didn’t move or even make an attempt to turn around. “Ed?”

“He isn’t going to do that, Alphonse,” Lieutenant Hawkeye said knowingly.

“But… But why? Going to war, Ed? You can’t.” The trembling confusion in his voice made Edward’s heart tug. Both Hawkeye and Mustang knew war and the unfeeling acceptance that Edward held was one very familiar to them both. He was going to fight in the Crusades as a weapon, similar to the state alchemists back home. He wasn’t going to fight for England, for Christianity, or Arthur like the rest of them. He was being forced to fight for those he cared about. Tied up in both visible and invisible chains, he couldn’t run even when they let him free.

“You will have to kill people,” Mustang was sure to remind him to test his resolution. Edward nodded his head in shame. If he stayed, he would have to act as a soldier in war. If he left many wizards would still die under the threat of Arthur. He didn’t know if there was a right choice. He didn’t know if he really had a choice at all.

“Despite enlisting you, we never wanted you to see war,” he heard Hawkeye comment softly. “You don’t know what it is or what it is like.”

“You will know soon enough,” Mustang said. “We will help you where we can.”

“Thank you,” Edward croaked as the weeks of wearing the mask had worn him down. In an instant, he felt a water skein in his hand, courtesy of Merlin. He took a sip to soothe his burning throat as he was led over to the table. He looked down at the map and saw placements of several forces against the walls, presumably where each of the royals held their troops. They had almost the entirety of the city surrounded and yet they couldn’t break through the walls. If they could do that, they could take it by sheer number alone.

“Where do you want to enter the city?” he asked in French with his hoarse voice. The leaders looked at him in disbelief.

“We have held siege to this city for seven months and you think you can win it in a day?”

“That is what I am here for, aren’t I? I can break a hole in the wall. You only need to tell me where and how big,” Edward snapped back. There was tension in the air as the Princes realized he wasn’t one for formalities. None of them seemed to take him up on the challenge of titles.

“Where do you want it broken?” he asked again. The Princes looked at him and whispered a quiet discussion amongst each other on the rights of the first claim to the city. When they settled on an agreement, one of them pointed to the south side of the city at a loosely guarded gate.

“I can have my men ready here by sundown. If we can get through these gates, we can take control of the others and let in the rest.” Edward nodded his head in acceptance and took another desperate gulp of water as his throat started to close. Mustang talked him through options in their strategy as he took a moment for himself.

“I can go with you and your troops and break the wall,” Edward said after a moment. “No one who wants to leave with their lives should get in front of me until I am finished. I will give the signal, then your troops can enter from the ground and our wizards can attack from the air.“

“The air?” Merlin asked. Edward nodded before he sent all the leaders in the room a scowl.

“You asked for a human weapon. You got one. Now you have to deal with the consequences.” Everyone looked at each other, wondering what on earth they got themselves into.

……

Edward sat in the armory with the other wizards who were getting ready. The Prince had agreed to attack at dawn leaving them with a few hours to make their preparations. They moved their troops into location under the cover of nightfall and were now waiting for the first light to start their attack. The Norman Prince had unchained Edward’s hands for the battle but only with a strict reminder of what was at stake.

“I was given word from King Arthur about you. If you run or attack us, your friend and all those wizards you came with will know how quickly their life’s blood can leave their body.”

With his hands-free, Edward was at least able to relax with the idea that he wasn’t completely helpless. He stretched his arms out as he quietly donned his own chain mail and red-crossed surcoat. The cloth padding underneath his mail was hot and heavy against his skin, but he put in his faith for holding against a blade.

“You won’t have to worry about bullets. They weren’t created until the 13^th century,” his father added to the list of things he did not have to worry about in the fight. It did nothing to soothe his anxiety. While his father and friends from the military taught him how to don his equipment and prepared him for what to expect, he could feel the distress from Winry and his brother. He wanted to console them that it would be okay, but even he wasn’t dumb enough to believe those words.

Edward watched the wizards make their preparations quietly from where he sat getting his own together. They reduced their heavy chain armor to simple cloth padding as they needed to lighten the weight for their brooms. Merlin had a few of the wizards practicing shield spells in preparation for their flight. Many of the wizards looked nervous. This was probably their first time in battle let alone battle with muggle spears and arrows. They weren’t as simple to dodge or deflect as a spell was.

As they continued to practice, Merlin sat down beside him, his own anxiety showing as plain as the wrinkles on his face.

“I don’t understand why we would be in the sky. Paracelsus, what was your idea behind this?” he asked.

“It was noted to me that once we enter the walls we will be at a pinch point,” Edward said as he reiterated what Mustang had told him during the war brief earlier. “If you are able to fly over the wall and take out some of their forces, that will allow us to breach the bottleneck faster.”

“I am just afraid of those younger wizards. We can’t cast spells and shield spells at the same time. They are bound to forget that arrows hit harder than a charm.” He looked out to where the wizards were still practicing their spells despite their nervousness. Edward got up from where he sat and grabbed one of the shields that was cast aside. He clapped his hand and alchemized the straps around it. He motioned for Merlin to stand up and the wizard reached out with his hand for the shield. Edward batted it away and instead bent down and strapped the shield to his shins.

“You’re more likely to get hit from below. Now you have a shield covering you as you fly,” Edward said.

“Ingenious,” Merlin muttered in astonishment. The other wizards saw what Edward had done and brought their shields over one by one to be altered. They seemed more at ease now that they had more armor to them. Edward returned silently to his own equipment and continued to put it on. He could feel the eyes of his friend watching him as he strapped a leather glove against his left hand.

“Paracelsus,” Merlin said after a minute.

“Hmm?” Edward hummed as he continued to put his gear on.

“What you said in the briefing. You are not a weapon. You know that right?” He paused as he heard the concern in his friend’s voice.

“Sometimes,” he said slowly, “it feels that way. But it is always good to have a reminder.” He finished with a smile, but it didn’t last long.

“Merlin,” he said after a moment. “I don’t want you to think differently of me after this. After you see what I can do.”

“Why-“

“I don’t want alchemy to be thought of as a weapon or a destructive force. Back home, it has been used as such and… I don’t think anyone here is prepared for that.” Over the years, Merlin had witnessed Edward conduct small feats of alchemy where they were needed. From Ravenclaw’s warning when he was first freed, he tried to keep his science a secret from many. It was not well known. However, while Merlin had seen the diversity of his craft, he was spared from seeing the sheer mass destruction it could cause when it was unleashed. Edward had seen the damage firsthand when he worked as a State Alchemist. He, himself, demolished a few towns on accident. On purpose, it could be catastrophic. Even with the wonderous realm of magic on this side of the gate, Edward did not think that the wizards nor muggles knew what they were dealing with when they had ordered him to war.

A heavy hand rested on his shoulder.

“No matter what you do, I don’t think I can look at you in any other way but as a friend,” Merlin said softly. A genuine smile grew on Edward’s face as he was very thankful for his kind words. Though the souls in the stone often told him that he was not a monster nor a weapon, it was good to hear it from someone else.

Suddenly, a bell rang from outside the tents and everyone grabbed their weapons. It was time. Edward grabbed Gryffindor’s sword and sheathed it in his scabbard. After snagging his shield and helmet, he was pushed out into the sea of soldiers ready for battle. He saw many of them saying their last-minute prayers to their Lords. Some were for love and protection, others for vengeance and spite. Edward didn’t pray, but sometimes he wished he did.

He was shoveled to the front of the crowd and tossed to the front where the Norman Prince was ready to give a speech. The Prince ordered him up there beside him and Edward silently followed. The roar of the crowd grew silent. Not even the whisper of the wind could be heard.

“This dawn will be the day of our salvation!” the Prince announced. “Penance shall be paid and as we claim this city of Antioch, sins shall be no more!” The crowd erupted in cheers.

“Deus Vult!” he heard them chant. The Prince silenced them again and pointed towards where Edward was standing.

“We have here a Holy Lance who has come to bring us to victory! Everyone must hold their guard and stand fast as he opens the gates. At long last we will break through these walls!” The cheers grew louder. Edward felt anxious as he saw the chaos of the crowds. He was called a human weapon, now a holy one. They idolized destruction.

“If we die, we die for the victory of our Lord! If you have any regard for your fellow man, you will die face down!”

“Deus Vult!” Edward briefly wondered what they had meant about dying face down, but Mustang stopped his question.

“You will know,” was all he said. He didn’t ask any further. As the roar of the crowd grew, the Prince nodded to Edward to get moving. Dawn was upon them.

“When you hear the thunder die, you can go,” Edward said to him before he made his way across the field. The swarm of men organized behind him ready for the charge. He saw Merlin gather his fellow wizards with their broomsticks. They were ready. Edward didn’t know if he would ever be.

He ventured across the field in the cover of darkness. As he drew away from the masses, the silence of the night welcomed him. He felt oddly at peace as he looked up at the blackened night sky. He was alone, and for once it was okay. He got about halfway across the field before he stopped to take in one final breath of peaceful night air. In a minute he knew it was going to descend into ruins. He wanted to enjoy what serenity the night had given him before it was ripped away. He took a moment to himself but eventually, he saw the pink edge of sunrise over the eastern mountains. It was time.

Edward clapped his hands, a thunderous noise in the once calm of the night, and slammed them to the ground. Row upon row of giant cannons were formed, stacking on top of each other and aiming right at the city walls. As his father noted, guns and artillery had not been invented yet, which would make this all the more devastating.

“There’s no going back. You’re going to unleash hell,” Hawkeye reminded him quietly.

“I think my choice to turn back was taken years ago,” he muttered bitterly. A swirl of contempt and acceptance rose in the stone and in Edward’s heart. He put his coif and helmet on and braced himself as he clapped his hands. The cannons ignited with thunder and rage that shook the earth. The rounds shattered across the walls of the city. Rock and stone cascaded down to the earth. Silence once again rang through the field as both sides looked on in awe. The dust settled and beyond was a crumbled heap of stone. The wall had fallen, and with it, Hell went pouring in.

……..

He followed behind the Normanic Prince as they wound their way through the city. Edward had spent the last few days cleaning up the infrastructure and rebuilding every wall he had broken down. The city was rebuilt, yet the damage had been done. Days of battle and bloodshed brought the troops to victory. The Normanic flag flew high over the citadel of Antioch and the carnage left within. Edward walked over the piles of corpses with his blade heavy with blood. He stared at the bodies of soldiers, women, and children alike, unmoving, forever twisted in pain. Their faces would be imprinted into his mind forever as they didn’t give him the kindness of dying face down.

Edward was tired. It was an exhaustion that neither food nor sleep could fix. The souls in the stone tried to comfort him, but their voices could not be heard over the jovial chaos around him. The enlightened crusaders ransacked the city in celebration as they looted houses and screamed the name of their Lord over the rooftops. Religious artifacts and temples of the previous rulers were desecrated and built over top of them were crosses such as those worn on their chests. The crusaders chanted the name ‘Holy Lance’ to the heavens as Edward’s presence had brought an end to an 8-month siege. While the Crusaders’ hope had been restored, his own was dwindling fast.

“Fullmetal,” he heard his old commander, but he didn’t let him finish as he knew what he was going to say.

“Now I know,” he said flatly.

“Yes. Now you know.” Edward struggled with the idea of war and battle. He wondered how anyone could do it. Even starting a battle, the fight seemed like a pointless massacre. Yet in the middle of it? Survival was the best motivation to slay another man. Back in Amestris Edward never wanted to kill anyone. Even in his toughest battles he always found another way. Now? He just wanted to survive. He supposed that is what Mustang and Hawkeye did.

The Prince led him into the citadel where the royals and Merlin had all reconvened for their next plan. When Edward walked in, he was not met with cheers like the Crusaders gave him. Instead, he was met with cold eyes filled with want. He was put on sudden alert as their hunger grew. The Normanic Prince waved his hand and guards started to approach him with stocks and chains. Edward backed away as they came at him but froze when he heard the voice of his friend.

“Paracelsus,” he heard Merlin say tautly. He looked up and saw Merlin standing as stiffly as he could with a blade against his ribs. His green eyes held an amount of hurt Edward never wished to see there. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. The guards quickly bound Edward’s arms up.

“Now, who gets him?” The princes argued amongst each other as Edward’s legs were also chained. The weight of the metal sat heavily on his already exhausted body. Once the guards had him restrained, Merlin was released. He ran over to him and gave him a tight embrace.

“Paracelsus,” Merlin whispered under the roar of the fight. “I had overheard them talking about how to use you next. I hadn’t realized…. If I knew the French were forcing you to do that because of me I-“

“It isn’t just the French, and it isn’t just you.” Edward could not look his friend in the eye. He was too filled with shame as he admitted he was being used by so many.

“I can’t let you keep fighting like this!” Merlin raged quietly. “I will talk to Arthur. Maybe he could help.” The wizard moved to leave as his mind was probably already racing through possible ways to get him out of his predicament. Edward caught him by the arm and held him fast. If he went off to tell Arthur, the King would undoubtedly enact his threats to keep Edward in line. Merlin, the wizards, they would all be crushed.

“No,” Edward said firmly. Merlin’s eyes widened as he saw his cold resolution. “I will be fine. This is a bump in the road for me. Don’t let it be for you. Focus on that goal of yours. I'll figure this out.”

“They can’t keep using you like this! You are not a weapon!” Edward smiled.

“I am glad that you didn’t change your opinion of me, even after everything.” Water built up in Merlin’s eyes as he gave Edward another hug. His attention was drawn when he saw that the leaders had reached an agreement. He watched as the Norman Prince handed off Edward’s wand and mask to a French Count. He was changing hands.

One of the Count’s guards took the mask and approached Edward. An overwhelming fear trickled inside of his chest. Even knowing his friend was in imminent danger, he could not help but back away from the mask as it came closer. It was instinctual, raw, and shook him to his core. Merlin argued with the Count to keep the mask off of him. He knew of his fear and pleaded all he could, but they would not listen. Edward saw Merlin itch for his wand and the guards simultaneously raised their swords ready to strike. He couldn’t let his friend get hurt.

“M-merlin,” his voice trembled out of his shaking chest. His friend looked back at him in hopelessness. “I’ll be fine.” The trust Merlin had in him was strong. Slowly, wands and swords were lowered as the mask was secured around him. Edward’s chest heaved as he suppressed a frightened sob. He collapsed to the floor, anguish having sucked out all that was left of him. The leaders watched him with little regard and discussed their plans for the Holy city. Merlin rushed over to Edward’s side but was held back by some guards.

“Paracelsus, it will be alright. I am going to fix everything. Just you wait.”

As Edward was passed onto his next captor, he desperately waited and held onto the promise that he would.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 30

The Fall of a King

One by one towns and villages fell as they plowed their way through the countryside towards the Christian’s holy city of Jerusalem. Sometimes towns would take a day to raid. Sometimes they would only spend a few hours before they were off to their next stop. They met little resistance as the villagers got smart and started to evacuate when they caught word of the Crusaders nearing. Those who didn't flee spoke a word of the ‘Christian Monster’ before they too were silenced. At this point, Edward didn’t think it was war. It was simply bloodshed.

The bodies were stacked and he could tell even Crusaders were getting tired of it. Some of the royals abandoned the cause, having claimed what land they could. Those that remained fueled their forces off the hope of salvation. Edward unwillingly became their beckoning light.

Each step of the way, he put pressure on his captors. To avoid complacency where he could, he kicked and even bit his guards when he knew that Merlin and the other wizards were a safe distance away. However, after every raid and battle, he would find himself looking through the eyes of the mask like that entire day’s contest was a pointless endeavor. The souls in the stone reminded him that they would get through this. He would find a way to keep his friends safe while breaking free. He held onto their words but in the silence of the mask, the nights grew long, and Edward couldn’t see the difference between himself and a gun.

They were halfway between Antioch and Jerusalem when they made an encampment around a nearby city. The fear of Edward’s presence was instilled in the enemy. It carved their way towards Jerusalem in bloodshed, but also to his relief, in alliances. Several of the larger cities did not surrender but sent out tidings for their forces and provided well-needed resources for their journey. They stayed the night in Tripoli as the French leaders made deals with their hosts over what their next conquest should be.

Edward laid on a bed of straw in a run-down barn near the city. He stared up at the ceiling through the eyes of the mask as he tried to keep the faces of corpses out of his mind. Yet, every time he closed his eyes, they were there in flashes of agony and sorrow. He sat up, the chains around him rattling in the silence of the night. For once, the crusaders were not relishing their victories in another war-torn town. For once, they were quiet as they slept peacefully in an allied city.

As Edward had given up on sleep, there was the familiar pop of someone apparating. He looked up expecting Merlin or another one of the wizards in their squadron but instead saw an unfamiliar woman.

“You are, as I presume, Paracelsus?” her silky voice asked him. Through the weight of the mask, Edward nodded his head. “And do you know who I am?” The woman stood there like she was a queen, someone who was respected but not respectful. Her cool and hungry eyes traced over him like he was a jewel on a crown she was building for herself. Her possessiveness and starvation reminded him of Slytherin. Hearing stories of her, he knew this had to be Merlin’s apprentice, Morganna.

Edward found himself quickly standing on his feet at the realization. The prophecy that Merlin had described to him was one of death and ruin, all centered around her.  His friend had left England to avoid his fated death by her hand. If she was here, Merlin would be in danger. He moved to get to the door of the barn, but his chains caught. He looked back at where his restraints were stapled to the ground, around a post for racking up a horse. The guards, being too lazy to stand watch over someone as useless as him, thought that tying him there would allow them to have their time in the new town. Unfortunately, that left him alone. Seeing him stuck there, the witch smiled.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” she said calmly. “I only wanted to talk.” She circled him like a wolf around a sheep and tisked quietly as she watched him tug on his restraints.

“Look at what they have done to you, those muggles. Treated you like an object to be traded and tossed around. Typical of them,” she scoffed. “They lick up any essence of control like hungry dogs. They don’t know what true power is. But you do.” He felt a hand caress the back of his neck. A shiver wracked his spine as he spun around to face the witch. He felt the wall of the barn press into his back as she leaned in close with a venomous smile.

“Doesn’t this just make your blood boil? Muggles, like that bastard King, flaunting our magic and having the audacity to claim it as their own. It was you who made me take up arms. I have heard the stories. He betrayed you and my teacher, Merlin, by using you like commodities! Back in England, I have been showing them firsthand that wizarding kind is nothing that the muggles want to mess with.” Edward’s eyes widened in shock. The muggles were utilizing wizard power like a tool. Edward himself was being passed around like a weapon solely because he held a skill that muggles could not possess. While he wanted them to stop, Morganna wanted to free wizarding kind through the bloodshed of the powerless. She was conducting a genocide of the muggles. Just like he was heading towards Jerusalem, she was on a crusade through England as they spoke. Edward was horrified.

As he stood frozen in the realization of the ruin Merlin had spoken of in his prophecy, Morganna leaned in closer and gently caressed the side of his neck. She tapped the metal of his mask tauntingly. Her crooked smile coiled like a snake.

“You are not a weapon. I can free you,” she hummed. “Just help me get revenge on that King. With you, wizards can bring down those filthy muggles and rule over the weak.” Edward highly doubted she saw him as anything more than what Arthur did. She stared at him lustfully, the thought of carnage behind her eyes. He tried to back away, but he was pressed against the wall of the barn. He, instead, lifted his leg and kicked the witch away from him. She staggered back to the ground with a thud. As she faltered, he furiously tugged on the chains that bound him. He desperately needed to get free. He needed to warn Merlin. But his attempts to free himself were futile. Morganna barked a laugh as she recovered to her feet.

“Slytherin warned me that you were a muggle lover, despite what they did to you,” she spat in disgust. He braced himself as he waited for her to pounce but she kept her distance. “He had convinced the King to send you on this campaign to clear the way for me. Killing off those muggle towns would have been near possible if I had to fight against the…. What do they call you? ‘Holy Lance’?” She laughed at the idea. “But I personally think you will do better helping me.” She lifted her wand.

“Imperio.” The unfamiliar spell was flung at him, and Edward could feel the presence of the magic hit his chest. Nothing happened. The witch tried again but still, nothing. She howled in frustration as one more time, the spell slid off him. Edward looked down at himself and then remembered the mask. The device that held him captive held antimagic runes. They were supposed to seal his power but now protected him.

In her frustration, Edward grabbed hold of a nearby hoof stool and chucked it at her. She ducked out of the way, but the stool clattered loudly against the stone ground. She attempted to cast another spell, but he grabbed the next closest thing he could and threw that at her too. Voices arose from outside the barn as nearby soldiers came to see what was making the noise.

“You bloody bastard!” she screeched. “You will see what those muggles will do. You are going to wish you were my weapon and not that bloody King’s!” As the doors of the barn opened, she flicked her wand. In a pop, she was gone. Edward was left alone with the confused guard and no voice to alert his friend of the war that had unfolded back in his home.

……………..

He was not released from the mask until the chaos of their next siege had already begun. The troops rallied together around the citadel of the next city. They had bombarded it with far fewer soldiers than they had before, opting to use Edward to his fullest extent. Blood flowed through the streets and after hours of fighting, he collapsed in exhaustion against what remained of a fallen palm. Sweat poured down his face. Even with the mild winter, the humidity from the nearby sea was cooking them all like lobsters in a pot. Despite this, Edward relished the feeling of air against the skin of his face.

“Stop scratching your face,” Alphonse scolded him. It was a habit he picked up since his time in the Duke’s dungeon. It only got worse now. The hot stagnant air choked the skin and hung heavy in the lungs. With the mask being off so seldomly, he subconsciously tried to pick at it to get it off his face even when it was not there. The feeling of his own hand against his cheek reminded him that he was free, though it might not feel like it.

There was a pop next to him and Merlin apparated to his side with his broomstick in hand. He and the other wizards had continued their aerial storms on the cities. Though many of the wizards had fallen, their power had saved many more from dying. His old friend groaned as he bent down to sit next to him. Edward chuckled at his pain.

“God, I can hear every bone in you!” he jabbed at Merlin’s misfortune. Though wizards held extended lifespans, Merlin was still old. While Edward avoided the aches and pains of the elderly, he fought them every day.

“These brooms are a nightmare. I will have splinters up my ass for a week!” the wizard whined dramatically making Edward laugh loudly, probably for the first time in months. Merlin admitted that it was a sound he had missed. Edward said the same. They relaxed and enjoyed each other’s presence as the chaos of the Crusaders’ raid finished around them. Through the war, they stayed together in whatever twisted way they could. Now, they both sat there sore, filthy, and beaten, but alive.

After a moment of teasing each other, the smile on Merlin’s face dwindled and Edward knew something was wrong. The old wizard pulled a crumpled and worn piece of parchment from his pocket and looked at it sadly. He handed it over to him and Edward took it. It was a letter from Arthur.

“I am being recalled to England,” Merlin announced. Edward sat up in alert and read the letter over. It was Arthur’s description of the massacres in the north. It was worse than Edward had imagined. Villages fell without a single slash of a sword as spells slayed the weak. It was killing for killing's sake. The letter spelled out everything that Morganna had told him. She was making the muggles pay.

“But you can’t,” Edward said as he looked at his friend. “She’s going to kill you. You know that.”

“You were never one to believe in divinations, Paracelsus. Why are you starting now?”

“Because this one involves you.” Merlin chuckled weakly at his answer.

“That it does.” Merlin didn’t look at Edward as he picked lightly at the blisters he got from his broom. Edward clapped his hands and in a flash, they were healed. Merlin said a small word of gratitude, but it was silenced in the wave of their grief. “I can’t run any longer. My apprentice needs to be stopped.”

Edward would have offered to go with him, but they both knew he couldn’t.

“I thought dying would have stopped me from helping the muggles. It turns out, avoiding it has done worse. I want to make a world where the wizards and muggles can be free together, though I might not live to see it.”

“You’re sounding more like a student of Gryffindor than one of Slytherin when you talk like that,” Edward commented making his friend grin.

“Professor Slytherin and Professor Gryffindor have more in common than they realized,” Merlin said wisely. “Gryffindor would always go on about bravery and fighting for the rights of others. Slytherin would always pursue his ambitions no matter the cost. My ambitions are just for others, I guess.” What he said was true to the core. While Edward could not agree with Slytherin, he knew that Merlin had the ambitious goal to help everyone. He was willing to pursue it no matter what he needed to do. Unfortunately, this time the cost was his life. It made Edward wish that Merlin had studied under Ravenclaw.

They sat together until they saw the usual crowd of royals and crusaders make their way down the streets towards them. They were coming to reclaim their weapon and make plans for the next siege. Edward rose to his feet and offered a hand to his friend. With a gripe and a groan, he rose with him. Before Edward could begin to say his goodbyes, Merlin pulled him into a tight hug.

“I fixed your wand,” he whispered quietly as the Crusaders approached. “I know I am not the only thing keeping you here, but if you can get to it, you can apparate.” Edward’s mouth opened in shock as he heard this. Even if he managed to claim his wand before, the anti-apparition charm on it would have prevented him from making a quick escape. Merlin, despite knowing that he was a hostage to Edward’s compliance, was giving him an opportunity to escape when the time was right. Edward tightened his grip on his friend, thankful for his help.

There was a clatter of chains behind him, and their embrace was cut short as the knights pulled Edward back to bind him once more. Edward watched his friend straighten his robes with sad eyes as the stocks were clamped around his wrists. A comforting smile spread across the wizard’s face.

“I promise we will meet again, Paracelsus.” With a final wave, Merlin apparated leaving Edward in the ruins of the war that was left behind. He stared at the spot where his friend had disappeared from, wishing for him to come back, but he knew when his friend decided, he would go through with it till the very end.

“Edward, it will be alright,” Winry said quietly before she was silenced once again by the hot metal of the mask. He nodded his head sadly. He would be alright. The world would keep spinning. But he had the gnawing feeling that, despite Merlin’s promise, he would not see his friend again.

…….

The walls of Jerusalem were underwhelming to Edward. While the crusader’s around him rejoiced at the sight of their religious city, to him, it was just another wall to come down. With the crusader’s faith restored, he found that their forces were a new terror to behold. They hungrily clawed at the walls of the city for days, opting to go over them instead of through them to protect their holy symbol. Edward constructed many siege towers and fought against the fires that the enemy threw at them. When the crusaders finally broke in, they took the city in a matter of hours.

Despite being in their holy lands, they still raided the town for its precious gems and tools. Houses that once held families were trampled and flushed out. Anything that shone in the sun was taken. He watched passively as soldiers carried arms of jewels and rare cloth to take back home with them. While the chaos of greed still flew around him, that was one thing that he was grateful for. They were going home. The crusade was over with the capture of their final city. He would be free.

As Edward walked through the streets fixing the earth that he had torn, a pillar of smoke rose through the center of the city. It was an oddly familiar sight and yet he felt anxious watching it. The siege was over. Something was wrong. As he looked at the smoke, another pillar joined, then another, and another.  

“What’s going on?” he heard his brother ask as the black ash fell on him and the smoke turned fowl.

Then the screaming began.

Edward ran forward towards where the smoke was rising from. As he approached the center of the city, the crowd of crusaders grew like an ocean wave. They roared and cried thankful praises to their Lord. The sight was unsettling. They packed tightly together, each pushing to see what was in the center square which was the cause of the rejoicing. Edward slipped through the tight gaps of the crowd. Their chants pounded his ears.

“Deus Vult!” they roared. As he broke through the front line of the crusaders, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a blood-curdling scream for what he saw in front of him. Pyre upon pyre was lit, sending high flames up toward the heavens. Caught in them were the wizards he had fought alongside for the past year. The heat of hell’s flame burned his skin as he watched the flames rise higher. Their bodies were frozen in agony. To his dismay and his relief, they were already dead.

“What did you do?!” he screamed. His voice carried far over the chaos of the crowd. The preachers who stood near the pyres eyed him with disdain.

“God’s holy city is for only the Christians at heart. Pagan witches must burn for their sins against the Lord,” a priest answered.

“They fought with you! They helped you!” he cried. Tears welled up in his eyes and cooled the flames’ heat on his cheek. He saw the Count that had been lording over him hand his mask off to a guard nearby. He was deeply uninterested in his plight.

“Because of that,” the count said offhandedly, “their time in purgatory shall be lessened, but they will rot in hell all the same. We have no room in Jerusalem for witches. We are going to cleanse the region now that it is ours. I am sure King Arthur won’t mind if we borrowed you a little longer.”

The guards with their chains and mask came closer. Arthur had held the wizards unknowingly hostage against him for the entire war. He did what they asked. He took city after city because he knew that these wizards would have been ruthlessly killed if he had done any different. He knew the flames himself and had wished any other death upon them except for that. Now, at the end of the war, he watched his comrades burn. The crusaders around him cheered at the cruelty. The priests fueled their faith from the burning pyres. Yet, there Edward was, still left with nothing. He felt himself shatter.

A rage-filled scream tore out of his throat and he clapped his hands. The crowd of knights was silenced as he tore up the cobblestone streets in a pile of spikes. Crusaders were thrown every way and the Count looked on in fear as he realized what beast he had unleashed. With Merlin gone, they now had just eliminated their only leverage against him. He was going to make them pay.

The streets were torn asunder as Edward blasted his way towards the Count. The knights attempted to charge at him with swords and shields, but a wave of stone dragged them into the earth. He spotted the cursed mask being tossed from guard to guard like it was poison. Many started to flee in terror as their Holy Lance had shown them what the head of their spear tasted like. Edward threw down the unlucky guard who had the mask and plucked the cursed object from their unconscious grasp. The hot metal weighed into his skin and made him choke as a bubble of fear grew in him. He faltered at the familiar feeling of the mask in his grip.

“Edward, stay focused!” Hawkeye scolded him. In his hesitation, a Javelin pierced through his gut. Blood filled his mouth, yet rage kept him moving. He ripped the weapon out as the stone sealed up his wound and thrusted it into the closest guard. The people in the stone cheered him on, getting him to fight through the grit and the pain. He spat the blood out of his mouth and moved on.

By that point, many of the crusaders had turned and fled. The Count, who was on the stage, was scrambling to order his men to stand and fight. While their faith in God had let them claim this city, their fear of Edward would not let them keep it. He stormed up the preacher’s stage and threw the count down to the ground. The man was sniveling in his grasp, begging him to spare him.

“Please. Please, have mercy,” the man cried. Edward glared down at him in disgust.

“He’s pitiful,” he heard his father say in astonishment. This was the man who had ferried him from city to city in chains. He hid behind the bodies of Merlin and the other wizards as he dragged Edward through hell. Now, with nothing to shield himself, he couldn’t even pick up his sword. Hohenheim was right. He was pitiful.

As the count continued to weep, Edward reached his hand into the man’s pocket and pulled out his wand. He stood up, to the shock of the count, and took a few steps back.

“You’re, you’re going to spare me?” he gasped only to freeze when he saw the scowl on Edward’s face. With a flick of his wand the count was fumbling over his words as the tongue-tying curse kept his silver tongue knotted up. The words of his God, any for that matter, would never leave his mouth again. Edward turned around and saw the pyres still burning. A deepening sadness grew in him as he watched the charred bodies slowly turn to ash. The mask in his hand felt hot and his skin itched as he remembered the burning of the flames.

“You need to leave before they regroup,” Mustang said. The crusaders were starting to gather themselves as the braver ones moved to the front of the frantic herd. He needed to leave. Taking one last look at the pyre, Edward lifted his wand and for the first time in forever, he vanished.

……….

Edward’s chest burned with red light as his right lung had splinched from his body in his apparition. The distance was too great, but he chanced it all the same. He wheezed in the English air, something he thought he had missed until he inhaled the smoke. He coughed a fit as he looked around him. The green rolling hills were charred in ash and the memory of a fierce flame. He had transported himself to the muggle village of Egg, the town that he had first appeared in just over a hundred years ago. However, the village was no more. Edward covered his mouth with his arm as he stood up and looked around. Moans of muggles cried as they picked over the burnt pieces of their homes. A cart of corpses was slowly being filled with the deceased, destroyed beyond all recognition even by their closest loved ones.

“What happened?” he heard the people in the stone whisper sadly in shock. They had apparated out of a war-torn landscape just to fall headfirst into a new one. Morganna had wreaked havoc over the muggle villages and towns. There was barely anything and anyone left.

A small crowd of muggles, probably the last ones in the entire village, was growing on the corner of the field. Angered cries arose. Edward tied the metal mask around his sword belt before creeping closer to see what had happened. After Jerusalem, he only could fear the worst.

The peasants raised their pitchforks in rage as they cursed the name of a person they had captured. It was a wizard whom they had tied down to a chopping block as everything they could use to burn them was already consumed in flame. Edward moved to lift his wand to save them but faltered as he heard the wizard curse and spit.

“Filthy muggles! The world has no room for you powerless heathens! We are going to cleanse this nation!” Edward remained frozen where he was. The curses of the wizard had rung him. They were the same tune that the Count had said to him not half an hour prior. It was a circle of hate and ruin. Wizards, muggles, he didn’t know who it was now, or who it will be next.

The crowd of peasants turned around and saw Edward there holding his own wand. They pointed their makeshift weapons at him.

“Die, you witch, in the name of the king!” one cried. The crowd charged. Edward whipped his wand and the next second he was standing in an empty herding field in Carmarthen.

“Its…. Awful,” he heard Winry whisper. Edward nodded his head. The entire world had gone to madness as people blindly fought each other and their leaders fought over him. He didn’t know what to do. The muggles wanted to use him to kill the wizards. The wizards wanted to use him to kill the muggles. He had no one to turn to.

“Find Merlin. He can help,” Alphonse said. A small spark of hope lit in him. Maybe Merlin was still alive. Maybe the prophecy hadn’t happened yet. Maybe, just maybe, he could find his friend. They went through thick and thin together. If anyone was willing to help, it would be him. Edward laid his wand flat in his hand.

“Merlin Ambrosius,” he said and prayed the wand to move. He held his breath as it twitched and spun around until it settled on a direction. A giant wave of relief rippled through him as he chuckled. The point me charm worked. Merlin had to be alive. The souls in the stone held onto Edward’s hope as he followed his wand through the fields of Carmarthen. As Edward crested over a hill, the wand spun direction and pointed behind him. He paused.

“Maybe he apparated,” Alphonse suggested. Edward knew that was a possibility. Merlin and Ravenclaw used this spell to find him initially in the Duke’s dungeon. It took them a while to locate him and even then, longer to get the king to agree to intervene. If he had been on the move, he could imagine that it would have taken ages. Edward steeled his resolve as he turned around and followed his wand again. He would find him.

He barely walked a few meters before it spun once more. He stopped again in his confusion. Edward held the wand up to his cheek like a compass and followed the point. Beyond the tip of his wand was a gnarled young sapling. He walked closer to it and froze, tears filling his eyes.

“No. Noo,” he wheezed. As he looked at the tree, he knew that Merlin had gone out and did what he had to do to stop his apprentice. The bark of the young sapling tree was twisted into the form of his friend Merlin. He stood tall, defiant, his wand out and baring towards where one would have assumed his attacker to be. Green leaves sprouted from his wooden limbs. The young oak’s branches were alive with his magic, yet the man entrapped in their veins was dead. The tenacity of his ambition was forever engraved in his stare. Merlin’s prophecy had been fulfilled.

Edward wailed as he collapsed to the ground. His one friend was gone, and the world felt like it had been ripped from him. The stone did not attempt to console him. They, too, were distraught at his loss. Tears streamed down his face in rivers until he had no more to give. Even then, he tried.

The earth continued to move as he sat in front of his friend. He wished for time to stop yet hours passed all the same. As a summer storm rose over the flock and fields of the town, his grieving slowly turned to thunderous anger. No matter what he did, everyone still would die. The world was chasing him with their lust for blood. He had been tossed around from conquest to conquest and yet it was never enough. Blood still fell. Only the last man alive would be the victor. He was the gun that could win them everything. The only way to stop a gun was to cut off the hand that used it.

In his fury, he unsheathed his sword. The souls in the stone stilled as he rose to his feet.

“Fullmetal,” Mustang’s voice warned. The rage was familiar as Mustang had experienced it himself a long time ago. “I know what you want to do, but what is your intent?” Edward lifted his wand to apparate.

“My intent is that I am going to end this.” He flicked his wand and with a pop, he was gone.

…………………

Edward landed the throne room that he had become so familiar with but now it lay in desolation. The normal crowds of gentleman and peasants who filled the halls of the castle to meet with their King were gone. The castle stood in a dark empty silence. Only one soul could be found. He stewed on his throne, the first crown of his nation perched promptly on his head.

“Paracelsus,” Arthur’s voice rattled out at his appearance. “You have won.”

“I did,” Edward breathed. He walked towards the king, each of his steps filled with a molten hatred. His sword held heavy in his hand. “And yet Merlin and all those wizards are still dead.”

“Those wizards you call friends have massacred my people!” Arthur accused. “Be lucky that you are mine or else the damage could have been worst!”

“Lucky?!!” he raged. “No one is lucky! Everyone is dead! Muggles, Wizards, they’re all dead! No matter what side I am on, they’re still out there murdering each other! No one is right!”

“You are the weapon. You are the cause! Whoever has you can rule the world! By God, England shall prevail! Merlin’s sacrifice to stop that witch was necessary. I don’t care how many more wizards, how many more people, or nations must go. You will have England survive!” He spoke the truth. Arthur and Morgana fought for him. They wanted his power to consume the world. While they wanted to be the hand on the trigger, he was still the gun. Anger sparked in Edward’s eyes, and he bared his teeth. If he was a weapon, he would be one that fought back.

“I will not be used again! I will not be the cause of this destruction,” he growled.

“This is war!” Arthur snapped back.

“This is slaughter!”

“You are my Holy Lance. Like the sun, you are my Eastern Sage. You will obey me as I obey God’s will! If slaughter is what God wants, then so it shall be!” Edward stopped in front of the throne, looking up at Arthur. The man had aged horribly in the year that he was gone. His skin was spotted and sagged around his clammy sunken face. His nails were bitten down to the beds and beyond. The king had gone mad. His harsh laugh echoed through the empty chamber of his kingdom.

“This is what your God wants?” he asked Arthur. The greed in the King’s eyes made the cardinal sin look like a slap on the wrist. He wanted the nation, the world. He wanted Edward and would destroy whomever he thought he had to keep him. A maniacal grin spread on Arthur’s face as it seemed he thought he had finally won.

“God wills it,” the King confirmed. Edward tightened his hand on his blade as the monster before him sealed his fate.

“Deus Vult,” Edward returned. With Gryffindor’s blade, he struck true.

………………

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 31

Dueling Club

After Edward had assassinated the king, he snagged the first crown and fled. England, in their recovery from the chaos and destruction, chased him down as far as they could. He ran for years until the Holy Lance had just become a superstitious legend, and the Eastern Sage was talked about like he was dust on the history books. People forgot about him but the paths of wizards and muggles, which was already strained at the time, would forever be separated.

 Edward finished his story to the class about the wars and the general chaos that led up to them. The students did not take notes as they were too enraptured by his tales to even think about a test. They asked him many questions on the motivations of the war. The pure blood students were interested in the muggle wars and the muggle-born students in the wizards’. Both were absorbed by the history of the other. He did not talk about his past in detail and he left his memories from the battlefield in the dark corners of his mind where they belonged. He leveled his story out to a textbook level history class. He explained that Arthur and Morgana were the same person on opposite sides. They both wanted to conquer the other and searched to the ends of the earth to find the power to do so. The thing that he didn’t tell them was that the power they wanted was his.

“Edward, you did not tear these two groups apart. It’s not your fault,” he heard his father scold him. “They used you.” He didn’t respond. Looking out at the sea of wizards before him, Edward knew that his tales were not going to end whatever squabbles they were having amongst each other. He knew that the seed of prejudice was sown deep in the years that he had been on that earth. A history lesson wasn’t going to change that fact. He did hope, however, that he might have given them a new perspective. Maybe, with that perspective, they wouldn’t be as keen to pick up a weapon without thinking who was going to be on the other end of it.

Cuthbert thanked him for his time and told the students that they would be having a quiz on Edward’s stories the following class. None of them objected. Seeing as there were no more questions, Edward gave a nod to his fellow professor, grabbed his bag, and left.

With classes finished for the day, Edward returned to his classroom for some peace and quiet. He felt an exhaustion that sank deep into his bones. He hadn’t talked about the crusades in a very long time. Despite avoiding as much detail as possible, the weight of what he had done sat with him. While all the blood he had spilt in the crusades could be wrapped up as defense in the tides of war, his assassination of King Arthur was the only time he had truly killed someone in cold blood. It was something that he couldn’t wash off. He remembered the other day when the students had asked him if he killed anybody. He knew the answer to be many. He could still see the faces of the damned when he closed his eyes. It was a price of war he was still paying.  

The grief he still felt for his friends and those innocent people was strong and unavoidable even after all these years. He missed his friends. He missed Merlin. The souls in the stone comforted him in his hard felt loss. Winry encouraged him to work on his automail. She hoped to distract him from the harsh memories of his first war. He did what he could to accept their lifting spirits and picked up the wrench next to him.

Edward worked hard into the evening on his arm. With every bolt he tighted, he felt his stories fade farther and farther away. He focused on what was in front of him and did well. He managed to get some of the wires for the fingers connected to the motors. That was one of the hardest parts when down to only a single arm. He carefully twisted the pliers in his grip to finish stapling the wire down. Winry looked on impressed.

“Not bad,” she hummed making him bubble with pride only to have it pop when she added, “I can do better.” The souls in the stone laughed lightly at his expense. He rolled his eyes and attempted to continue his work when there was a knock on his door. Before he could even ask the person to enter, they came barging in anyways, plum robes swaying dramatically in their wake.

“Edward!” Gilderoy cheered, making him groan in annoyance. “Just the man I wanted to see!” Gilderoy walked over to his desk despite not being invited, and Edward did his best to shield his work from him.

“I have missed my assistant these last few weeks, and now I hear that you have been helping in Professor Binn’s class,” the man said in dismay. Dumbledore had originally signed Edward up to be Gilderoy’s assistant, probably hoping that he could stop him from accidentally kill his class with his stupidity. Since Edward came back and the school knew him as Paracelsus, most had forgotten about this arrangement. Most except for Gilderoy.

“What do you want?” Edward growled, stopping the man’s ramblings in their tracks.

“Ah, right to the point, I see,” he smiled. “Well, I am hosting a dueling club this evening. Thought it might be a great opportunity for students to build their confidence! I wanted you to come along as my assistant, maybe learn a few pointers yourself. Being an honorary member of the Dark Arts Defense League I am sure that I could teach a young fellow like you a few moves or two.“

“How many times have I told you that I am older than you?” Edward snapped. “I am Paracelsus! I just got done talking with Binn’s class on war!” Gilderoy, instead of being put off by his outburst, smiled and tisked in disappointment.

“Edward, Edward, Edward,” he sighed. “Even if you are whom you convinced everyone else you are, everyone has their limits. Skills are hard work to master. Even years of living, needs years of experience. Lucky for you, I am sure that my magical expertise will be able to help you get a step up on life!”

“My god, he’s an idiot,” Mustang said in astonishment. Edward stared at the other teacher in bewilderment.

“I don’t think he believes I am me. Did he not see my head get blown off at the quidditch match?” Edward asked the stone. The man was sitting in the faculty box. If recovering from a fatal blow wasn’t a sign that he was Paracelsus, he didn’t know what else could be.

“Maybe he was too distracted by his teeth,” Alphonse commented. “Or maybe he doesn’t care.” He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Gilderoy was desperate to be an asset to the school in whatever skill he could try his hand at. He was trying to one up Edward where he could just to show off. He did so in fighting the Cornish pixies, healing Harry, and now his most recent attempts were to fix his automail. The torment of him trying to ‘help’ was getting on his nerves.

He stood up and grabbed Gilderoy by the robes, dragging him to the open door. The man flustered in his grip as he tried to maintain his pathetic composure.

“If you couldn’t tell, I am kind of down a hand at the moment thanks to you,” Edward argued. “I will not be helping you with this dumb club. Get someone else to help you.”

“As my assistant-“

“I resign as your assistant,” Edward stated flatly. “Talk to Albus about it. Better yet, I can show you the signature on my letter of resignation.” With that, he kicked Gilderoy from his classroom and slammed the door shut behind him. He hoped that the boot print on his ass was legible, or else Edward might need to sign it again. The stone laughed in amusement as his headache with that imbecile only grew.

“Dueling club,” Edward scoffed. Dueling had been big in Hogwarts when he was there. Gryffindor was adamant that his students know how to protect themselves. If they were willing, he taught them swordsmanship of all kinds and even had a competition every now and then to lift their spirits. Halfway through his stay in Hogwarts, Edward was not allowed to compete because he would crush every student that came at him.

“I can’t even imagine Lockhart with a sword,” Alphonse said.

“He’s going to chop a student’s arm off before he teaches them to hold one properly,” Edward jabbed. He paused at the thought before groaning in irritation. “Fuck,” he cursed. If Gilderoy was running the dueling club, he needed to go to make sure the students left with their lives. He highly doubted any other faculty would want to go as they already placed their restraining orders with the man.

“Maybe if you duel him, you can debone him like he did to Potter,” Mustang suggested cruelly. That was something Edward could get behind. Dropping his automail, he quickly headed down to the Great Hall to catch the club before disaster broke. On the way he snagged a rapier from one of the displays on the wall with the promise to return it. Though he wished that he could use his own, he had willingly gifted it back to the house of Gryffindor to Minerva where it belonged.

The Great Hall was cleared of all tables and chairs to make room for a stage in the center. The room was packed with students. Nearly everyone had shown up to the first meeting of the dueling club. Edward knew that the most recent attack had struck fear into everyone. This must have been a way to make the students feel braver in the uncertainty of the situation. Maybe they could even protect themselves.

Gilderoy Lockhart stood on top of the stage smiling down at the student body. He bolstered his dueling reputation with exciting tales from one of his books. The mass of the students was disinterested, yet he continued. Edward spotted Severus watching on in cruel enjoyment and he made his way over to him.

“I assume he dragged you here?” Edward asked.

“In fact, I came willingly,” Severus noted. “He recently disturbed my potions lab and exploded a cauldron of peace draught. I would have strangled him but I was overtaken by the potion. This is a free chance to show him the wrong side of my wand.”

“Wait… wand?!” Edward looked around and saw the distinct lack of weapons of any kind. “What the hell type of dueling club is this?”

“You are at a magic school are you not?” Edward cursed under his breath as he sheathed the sword in the belt under his cloak.

“This is ridiculous. Back in my day, we were learning proper dueling. Swordsmanship takes skill, practice, and balance! You’re telling me kids these days just whip around their wand around when they’re challenged to a proper duel?”

“I highly doubt students are going to be challenged to the death any time soon. And, if I might remind you, not everyone has a sword in their back pocket anymore.”

“Well, they should!” Edward snapped. “What if they drop their wand? What if their wand breaks? They are just twigs after all.” Severus smirked in the humor of his frustration.

“So, you are saying that the great Eastern Sage himself has never been to a proper magic duel?” Severus asked. Edward shook his head. While he had been in many battles with his wand and cast a great many spells at an opponent, he never saw a formal competitive magic duel. “Gilderoy is going to eat that up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Edward barked.

 The room quieted down as Lockhart beckoned Severus up to take part in a demonstration. Edward watched as Severus walked up on the stage like a lion about to pounce on his prey. That man was out to get him. Gilderoy flaunted around to show the students the proper set up of a formal duel. He unknowingly was taunting a rabid dog as he joked about how he was going to take it easy on the potions master. With the nasty look on Severus’s face, Edward knew that the man had just sealed his fate.

He watched as the two teachers took up their wands and bowed to each other. Gilderoy was more flourished in his bow, where Severus barely even jerked his head. They set their paces and held their wands up to go. Gilderoy held his wand like a sword a close guard, where Severus held his high in the first guard. That man was ready to execute. The instant Gilderoy twitched, Severus brought his wand down and cast his disarming spell. The spell slammed the dark arts professor right in the chest and flung him into the back wall of the room. The students gasped in shock, but very few raced over to help their teacher. Edward saw Severus smirk as he put his wand back into the pocket of his robes.

“Great show, Snape!” Gilderoy wheezed as he clamored back up on the stage. “But it was far too easy to see what you were up to. If I wasn’t focused on giving the students a good demonstration, I would have blocked it easily!” Some of the students whispered in amazement to each other as they were fooled by his cocky lie. Edward rolled his eyes. “Besides! The disarming spell takes great effort to aim! If you want to disarm the opponent, you want to make sure to hit their wand!”

“Oops,” Severus feigned an apology. “Must have slipped.” Edward laughed at Severus’s sarcasm, but Gilderoy was none the wiser. Edward saw Severus evilly smirk at him.

“Perhaps, another demonstration?” he suggested. Edward was instantly offended as he knew what Severus was up to. He was feeding him to the sharks. Gilderoy’s expression brightened, and he clapped his hands together.

“Great! How about we have our other assistant show their worth! Professor Elric, come on up!” Edward growled as he passed Severus on his way towards the stage.

“You’ll pay,” he hissed, but Severus only smiled and left the stage free for him. As he rose to the platform he mildly wondered if he could use his sword, but Winry warned him that killing the dark arts professor would get him nowhere. In discontent, he unsheathed his wand instead.

“Now Edward,” Gilderoy said as he approached the middle of the stage, “I know having one hand will have you at a disadvantage. Don’t worry! I will make sure to give you a fair fight!”

“I would hate to be the idiot who uses two hands to cast a spell,” Edward replied, making the delighted smile on Gilderoy drop. They bowed to each other and paced themselves. A low roar of murmurs picked up from the crowd of students. Gilderoy resumed his starting stance and Edward held his wand horizontally out in front of him in the second guard. This surprised Gilderoy.

“Students!” he announced. “See how Professor Elric is holding his wand? Bad posture for setting up a defensive block. Requires an additional needed motion for casting a shield spell. Not to mention poor balance! Always have your wand up and ready to bring down on your opponent.“ Gilderoy started to talk to the students on proper form of the starting stance with little regard to his opponent on the stage.

“Hey! Don’t coach me on stances when you’re standing there with buckled knees! Aren’t we in the middle of a duel?! Come at me then!” Edward yelled at him. Gilderoy, flustered, apologized for the brief pause in his lecture to resume the duel they had barely started. The other professor lined himself up once more and then quickly sent a high spell at him. Edward smoothly ducked beneath the spell as he lunged forward and with barely a twitch of his wand, sent a low flying bombardment charm at his opponent. Gilderoy’s legs were swept out from underneath him and he did a barreling front flip to the floor. The students ogled at the show. Edward tossed his wand carelessly in his cloak.

 “Be lucky I didn’t use the sword!” he barked at the professor before storming off the stage. He saw Severus standing there with a smile and Edward kicked him lightly in the shins.

“Don’t you dare do that again!” he scolded lightly, only making the potion’s master smirk in his own amusement.

Gilderoy recovered best he could from the beating the other two professors gave him then sent the students off to pummel each other. Having not taught them shield spells or even appropriate disarming spells for a clean fight, the kids were casting whatever spell they knew at each other and hoping it hit. They had to stop the fighting several times before they were able to get them practicing appropriately. Some students picked it up with ease. Other students struggled. Edward saw one of his second-year students fail to even chant the shielding charm.

“I can’t do it, Professor,” Neville said sadly. Edward saw that he had several good luck and protection trinkets on him. Despite being in Gryffindor, he could tell that the kid feared the chamber legend. He was probably here to learn how to protect himself and failing miserably at it. Edward patted him gently on the shoulder.

“Let’s try something else,” he offered. Edward took the kid along with several others who struggled to cast a spell. They tossed their wands to the side for the moment to practice swordsmanship. He showed them the basic positions. For their first time picking up a sword they were getting the hang of it. Without the need to think of a spell, the motion of the sword spoke for itself.

“Is this the position you were in?” Neville asked as he held his sword out in front of him. Edward adjusted him slightly but nodded his head.

“Fighting with magic uses the same principles as fighting with a sword. If you master one, you will be on your way to master the other,” he advised.

“From your stories in class, you did a lot of sword fighting then?”

“Unfortunately, more than one should.”

They practiced for another few minutes before their attention was called back to the stage. Gilderoy demanded another demonstration but this time with the students. Edward wondered if this was to actually see what the students learned or if he just wanted to spare his own hide from another beating. To his surprise, Potter and Malfoy were called up to the stage for a formal duel.

Severus coached Malfoy on one side of the stage where Gilderoy took Potter under his wing. He watched as Gilderoy attempted to show him a shield spell by wiggling his wand in a ridiculous fashion. He dropped his wand several times during his small demonstration before scurrying off the stage. Harry looked utterly confused.

The duel started and everyone watched in bated breath. The Slytherin student casted a spell before Harry could even blink. With a bang, a long black snake erupted out of the tip of his wand and fell to the floor. It was a boomslang who was very unhappy about being tossed about. Students around the stage screamed in fright and backed away quickly as the snake started to advance. Edward heard the angry hisses from the upset snake.

“Don’t move, Potter,” Severus said cautiously. “I’ll get rid of it.”

“I can do that!” Gilderoy chanted. The tip of his wand let out a crack like a whip which flung the snake ten feet into the air. It smacked back down to the stage in a rage of hisses. Edward moved forward as he saw the muscles of the snake coil. It bared its fangs and was preparing to strike one of the students in the crowd.

“Hathehh saahthay,” Edward suddenly heard someone hiss. He looked over to see Harry argue with it. The snake in front of him hissed angrily back at him.

“Sseya seethaa!” the snake retorted and disregarded whatever Harry had said. It coiled again and Edward moved. The instant it launched itself from the stage, he struck his hand out and snatched it from thin air. The snake let out an angered hiss, whirled its head around and bit him instead. Edward grimaced in pain as the fangs of the venomous snake sank into his forearm. The crowd around him screamed.

“Hathehh saahthay!” He heard Harry scold the snake once more. Seeming like it was throwing a temper tantrum, the snake removed its fangs from his arm and whined. Edward shook the snake gently.

“Shut up, you.” Defeated, the snake grumpily relaxed. Its body that once constricted tightly around Edward’s arm, fell limp like a wet sock. He heard the snake mutter bitterly to itself.  He rearranged the snake gently in his hand, getting a firm but gentle grip at the base of the head like Slytherin had taught him long ago.

As he was tending to the snake, a fearful wave of whispers spread across the student body. Many of them fled the room after witnessing what had just occurred. He looked up to see them rumor to each other seemingly at Harry’s expense. They whispered Parselmouth like it was curse not to be spoken. Edward didn’t understand it. Harry ran off in shame and embarrassment and the room was left in a type of silent chaos. Edward looked around in confusion. Wasn’t it just a language? What was so wrong with talking to a snake?

…………….

The Dueling club was an utter failure, as Severus expected. They were lucky that Gilderoy hadn’t launched the snake into the crowd of students and that Edward was able to grab it in time. While Severus was not amused with the pathetic way the students were casting spells around, he did know that the club was important to boost morale. Unfortunately, with the snake mishap, he knew he was going to hear about the Chamber and Potter being a Parseltongue for days.

“Severus, wait!” he heard someone call just as he was about to head into the stairwell to the dungeons. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Edward running after him, surprisingly with the snake still in his only hand. Despite its terrifying nature, the snake looked more annoyed than angry as it was held gently in the Sage’s grip. “What was all that about back there?” Edward asked.

“It seems Potter is a Parselmouth,” he stated the obvious while keeping an eye on the snake in his hand.

“So? It’s a language. Who cares?” Edward asked. Severus raised his brow.

“Many take it as a sign of being a dark wizard,” he explained plainly. “It is very hereditary to the house of Slytherin. With the Chamber of Secrets being opened, this is very concerning for Potter.”

“Is this why you guys accused me when I admitted I can hear them?” Severus grimaced as he remembered their attack on him. Edward had apparently told Albus that he heard a snake in the castle. When they found out the chamber had been opened, it was a seemingly obvious link between Edward and the Slytherin heir. Unfortunately, they couldn’t have been more wrong. Severus didn’t want to remember attacking Edward, as they all agreed to move on from that incident, but what surprised him was that he didn’t know much about the nature of Parseltongue, nor the chamber for that matter. The legends of the castle were still a mystery to Edward.

“Yes,” Severus admitted slowly. “It definitely isn’t the best thing to know considering the circumstances.” Edward shrugged slightly as he lifted the snake to look at it. It was held firmly in his grip and glared grumpily at him but made no struggle.

“I don’t know. Potter did a good job at settling this one down,” he noted as he lifted the snake in his hand. Severus took a step back from it. “By the way, before I forget, do you have anti-venom for this?”

“What?” Severus choked. He didn’t understand his question. Edward was acting very calm for having been bitten by an extremely venomous snake.

“This is a boomslang. It has slow-acting venom and is concentrated enough it can actually work on me. I would rather not start bleeding from my internal organs.” Severus should have recognized the snake as a boomslang, as he used it in many potions before. However, he had never seen a live one until then.

“Why would you of all people need anti-venom? Can’t you heal yourself?” He asked and rightfully so. He was one who personally witnessed Edward regrow his own head. That was an image that he would have rather forgotten.

“Just because I can’t die, doesn’t mean I want to. The stone is what heals me. I would rather not use them when I don’t have to,” Edward answered honestly. Severus, knowing now what he meant, nodded his head.

“I do have anti-venom but next time don’t get bit,” he scolded him. He motioned him to follow but as he started to head down the stairwell to the dungeons, he didn’t hear anyone behind him. He paused and looked back. Edward was still standing at the top of the stairs. He hadn’t moved. Severus let out an aggravated sigh.

“I will be back,” he muttered and went down to the dungeons for him. Severus thought it was silly, how the Eastern Sage, immune to every ailment and pain, still couldn’t go down into the basement. He guessed that was just a consequence of experiencing the human infliction for longer than one ever has before.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 32

A Second Death

“I wish I could have seen that,” Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington laughed.

“I wish I hit him harder,” Edward smarted as he told his friend the happenings of the dueling club.

“What did you do with the snake?”

“I gave it to Severus so he could harvest the venom from it for his potion stores. Though he might unfortunately have to skin it since someone raided his stores the other day and stole all of his boomslang skin.” After the dueling club disaster, Edward had gotten the anti-venom from Severus. Instead of bringing it back up to him from the dungeons, he instead brought him a peace draught so that he could go down with him. There he was able to get the antidote and help Severus put the snake away in a small terrarium. With how cautious Severus was around the snake, something made Edward think that he didn’t like them.

“Could also be that it was extremely venomous,” Alphonse noted. That also could have been it.

 Nicholas and he were chatting lightly as they walked through the first floor of the castle. They were enjoying each other’s presence as well as the layer of freshly fallen snow that had fallen over campus the previous night. Many of the students were running amuck and throwing snowballs at each other before they would soon be sent home for the holidays. The last classes of the semester were either cancelled by the teachers or the students were intentionally skipping.

“Don’t you have a class?” Alphonse accused. Edward shrugged. What Albus didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He watched as Peeves pelted Gilderoy with a sludge ball of frozen mud and laughed when he saw that the two Weasley twins were joining in.

Though Edward loved winter as he thought the snow-covered forests and fields were beautiful, he could not stand the cold. His ports were alight with aches and pains which made it very difficult to enjoy himself. It made him wonder why he lived in Siberia for so long.

 As he walked, he suddenly came to a freezing halt as what felt like ice water poured down his right side. He gritted his teeth and grabbed his empty automail port with his left hand. Nick looked down at his sudden ailment and jumped from where he was floating. He offered a quick apology before moving a couple feet over to give him room.

“I am sorry, Edward. I am so very clumsy,” Nick said quickly as he backed up, only managing to float through another student who cried at the sudden shock. While ghosts couldn’t feel nor really interact much with the world of the living, walking through a ghost’s transparent form felt like one was taking a dive into the arctic ocean. Everyone avoided ghosts in the winter but on occasion the ghost could not avoid them.

“It’s fine,” Edward reassured his friend as he massaged his port out. “Nothing I haven’t felt before.”

“I do have to say, it is odd to see you without an arm. In all the time I have known you I don’t think I ever saw you without it,” Nick noted as he saw Edward’s empty sleeve.

“Yeah, well you are going to have to get used to it. It’s taking me ages to fix and another professor is doing his hardest to interfere.”

“Isn’t having an extra hand good?”

“It’s Gilderoy.”

“Ah, that would explain it,” Nick muttered. “Say, I can’t really help, but do you think that I could watch? Your limbs were always so fascinating. I don’t think there was or is anything like it.”  

Edward remembered his friend’s interest in the muggle world. Nicholas was born a pureblood wizard but the way he flaunted around the muggle world and made terrible use of his wand made Edward think that he wanted to be anything but. He found beauty in the mundane and would often interrogate him for hours at a time to understand the wonder of creating something as simple as the newly invented buttonhole. Edward had to admit that he had been using buttons before that time for practicality. It was something so small no one noticed. Other things that had enraptured Nicholas’ interests were clocks which the mechanics were just being invented at the time, and of course his automail. He looked at the automail much like Winry did, with fascination and awe, though he didn’t have the knowledge base to understand it. Edward tried explaining it to him before but again, much of the knowledge needed had not been discovered yet.

“Of course!” Edward exclaimed as he was excited to show his friend what he had been working on. “It won’t be very exciting though since I still have to finish it. Got a few more hours left.”

“Then that’s all the more reason for me to keep you company,” the ghost cheered. They started making plans when Edward paused. He heard a low whisper coming from nowhere.

“Erressto ska.” Edward stopped in his place as Nicholas was contemplating how his automail mixed with his immortality.

“You would think if you could regenerate, your arm would have-“

“Shh!” Edward scolded his friend.

“What is it?” Nick asked as Edward’s sudden change in demeanor surprised him. He leaned over to see what Edward was searching for but only managed to graze through him again, sending buckets of ice water down his back. Edward shivered and cursed silently, motioning for his friend to back up. The voice grew louder, and it hissed in his ear.

 “Erressto ska ske iass shishkeas!” His blood ran cold as he remembered the voice from months ago. He could hear the massive serpent just as clearly as he heard the boomslang the other day. Yet he couldn’t find it.

“Is there something the matter?” Nicholas whispered quietly.

“I heard something.” Edward motioned for Nicholas to stay where he was and poked his head around the corner of the corridor in hopes of catching sight of the thing. Yet there was nothing.

“Maybe I am hearing things,” Edward muttered. The snake incident just the other day had rattled the student body. Maybe it was making him paranoid.

“But you heard it before, didn’t you?” Alphonse noted. Maybe it wasn’t paranoia then but there had to be an explanation. There couldn’t just be a bodiless snake. With how loud it was it had to be big. It couldn’t just hide in thin air.

“Hey, Nick, you don’t happen to know if snakes can turn into ghosts, do you?” Edward asked as he gave the corridor one more look. There was no answer. Instead, he heard a loud thwump and a curse as something fell behind him. He spun around and instantly felt his heart freeze in its tracks.

“Nick?”

……………

“ATTACK! THERE’S BEEN ANOTHER ATTACK! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” Minerva heard Peeves shriek as he ran down the corridor. Crashes sounded throughout the castle as classroom doors were thrown open. She felt a trickle of fear in her chest and ordered her students to stay put. Half of them were still partially transfigured into skunks but she knew that she could sort that out later. An attack… she feared for what she would find.

Minerva got up and opened the door to her own classroom only to find a torrent of terrified students flooding the hallway. Several screams and gasps could be heard as the students trampled about in whatever direction they could go. Minerva struggled to fight her way through the crowd. Over the terrified chatter, he heard a familiar voice.

“Please! Get the nurse! Someone please get the nurse!” She recognized the voice as being Edward’s yet she had never heard him so worried. So scared. She searched through the sea of students for her fellow teacher but for the life of her she couldn’t see him in the chaos. She had enough of it.

BANG!

Minerva had lifted her wand and shot of a loud round that stilled the students in front of her.

“Get back to your classrooms!” she barked at them. What once was fear of the attack, had turned into a fear of her as the students scrambled to get to their classrooms before she unleashed her fury on them. Within a minute, the hallways were empty and what she saw then, shocked her.

The Hufflepuff student, Justin Finch-Fletchley was laying on the floor staring up at the ceiling in a cold frozen shock. He was petrified just like Creevey was. His face was twisted into a look of horror as he stared at nothing. However, it was what was next to him that had truly startled Minerva. The ghost Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, otherwise known to the student body as Nearly Headless Nick, was floating horizontally only half a foot from the ground. His original pearly white ghostly appearance was gone. He had instead turned into a blackened smoke, something Minerva never thought a ghost could be. With his head fallen off and his arms on his chest, He looked like he was an image from his own grave. Despite already being dead, she feared that Nick had now passed again.

“Please, help someone! I can’t… I can’t…,” she heard Edward cry. Minerva knew that Edward was close friends with Nick. She had seen them talking adamantly all the time. However, she only now knew just how fond Edward was of his friend when he was taken away from him. She watched as Edward desperately and hopelessly tried to pick up Nicholas. His hand flutily floated through the black smoke, as he tried to choke back sobs. Edward was in distress.

“Edward, are you hurt?” Minerva asked as she knelt next to him. He was still trying to pick up his friend to no avail. She gently took a hold of his only hand and guided his attention away from his friend for a split second. Despite it being a fool’s mission as Edward had the philosopher’s stone, she looked him over for injuries anyway. The only thing she found was his duress.

“I was right there,” Edward sobbed. “I was right there, and I don’t know what happened.”

“He will be alright, Edward. We will cure him like the others,” Minerva said in what she hoped was a calm voice. She waved over to a couple of the other professors who were still in the hallway. They scurried over and bundled up Justin the best they could to haul off to the hospital ward. Filius conjured up a giant fan to attempt to waft Nick to where he needed to go. Minerva gently grabbed Edward and pulled him out of the way as Filius began guiding the deceased ghost down the hallway. The alchemist moved to follow his friend but Minerva held him back.

“You should lay down,” she instructed him, but he continued to push against her. She had never seen him like this, so desperate to get to his friend. Tears streamed down his face. He was in a world of panic she had never seen before.

“I need to help him. I can’t… I can’t see him die again! Not again. Not again!” she heard him ramble and beg. Again. That word hit her harder than most. While she didn’t know much about the Eastern Sage’s past, she knew enough about his friendship with the ghost that she could string together the pieces. A wave of grief flew through her as she realized, with horror, why her fellow professor was so distraught over someone who was already dead. He was there when Nicholas was given his name’s sake. Now, he was afraid that he head witnessed his friend die a second time.

Minerva conjured a blanket and wrapped it firmly around his shoulders. The action seemed to startle him enough to stop him from chasing down his friend. His single hand subconsciously wrapped tightly around the folds of the blanket. His golden eyes looked up to her. While Minerva knew him to be old, the distress in his eyes reminded her of her students. She felt a firm sense of protection fill her.

“Nicholas is petrified. He will be okay. You, however, need to go lay down,” she reassured him strongly. Edward looked away as his weight shifted like he was contemplating her assurance to him. He was stubborn, which Minerva knew always made it difficult for one to let go. It didn’t matter as she was also headstrong. She gave Edward another stern look.

“Edward,” she repeated. Edward bit his lip but eventually let out a hiccup of a sigh as he wiped his eyes with the corner of the blanket. He was stepping down. She thanked him quietly for his bravery and sent him off to his room with the promise that someone would be up to check on him. She heard him mutter silent words to himself in a foreign tongue and felt comforted in the fact that he was not alone. He had the stone with him. She hoped that his brother could talk to him in her absence. For now, she had some important matters to deal with.

Minerva turned back around to where Harry Potter was standing guiltily in the corner. Peeves was tauntingly blaming him for petrifying Justin and Nick. While she would have been an idiot to believe that a student could have done something as horrendous as this, Potter was too often in the wrong place at the wrong time. With the accusations the students held against him for being a parselmouth and now finding him at the scene of a crime against one of their muggleborn students, it really appeared like Potter was trying to send Minerva to an early grave over stress.

“Potter, follow me,” she ordered strictly.

“Professor, I swear I didn’t-“ the kid tried to beg.

“This is out of my hands, Potter. Dumbledore wants a word with you. He will get to the bottom of it. I assure you.”  

……………..

Edward ducked through the hallways until he was able to lock himself inside his chamber. He felt the grief that he had thought left him come flooding back. He had turned away for one second and now, Nick was dead once more, floating like a ghost in his grave. The curling whisps of black smoke were so foreign to the touch. They shared neither the warmth of life nor the chilling cold of death. His mind couldn’t comprehend it. Nick was gone and he could do nothing about it.

“Stop scratching your face.” Edward forced himself to still his hand, but it did nothing for his worry. He felt hollow as the fear and grief rattled around inside of him. A swirl of comfort ignited from the stone and filled his chest with a warmth it so desperately needed. He felt a sob hitch in his throat as he wrapped his only hand around himself tightly.

“Brother, it is okay to be upset,” Alphonse said softly. “You will get through this. You always do.” He always got through things. For the last thousand years he had been pushing through hardship after hardship, loss after loss. He didn’t imagine that Nick’s death would hang over him like this. He had thought that he had accepted his friend’s death. It turned out running away from the wizarding world for 700 years was not a healthy way to cope with loss.

“He was the reason you moved to Siberia,” his brother noted. “Maybe it’s time for you to accept that he is gone.”

“He’s not gone!” Edward barked back at his brother.

“He might be a ghost, but he is still dead, Edward,” Hohenheim reasoned. “You can’t deny that.” Edward put his lip. He raked his hand through his hair in his frustration. Nick was already dead. Forty-five chops to the neck were nothing someone could come back from. He knew his friend was 700 years long gone and yet it seemed like he had lost him once more.

“I am sure that Nick wouldn’t want you to worry.”

“I am sure that he wouldn’t want to be petrified!” Edward retorted stiffly.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was right there!” he yelled. “I was right there and for the second time, I couldn’t do anything!”

“You couldn’t have done anything the first time either, Edward.” And that was where Edward refused to accept that his father was right. There was something he could do. There was always something that he could do. He was the Eastern Sage. He had the philosopher’s stone. Yet, when his friend was put down on the chopping block and whacked not once but forty-five times, he stood by and did nothing. His friend got killed because he mistakenly grew tusks on a Lady rather than straightened her teeth. It was a simple misfire of a spell that could have been easily fixed. Instead, they killed him for it. Edward still remembered the fear and regret on Sir Porpington’s face as he cried to the executioner to free him.

“Edward,” he heard his father try to reason with him again. “If you had rushed in to save your friend, you would have exposed yourself once more to the world. The muggle had just started forgetting the legends of King Arthur. Do you think they would have let you go?”

“That doesn’t matter! What do I have to be afraid of? I am bloody immortal!” Edward snapped back. “I am immortal yet forever useless. I can’t save one person! Merlin, Nick, you?! I can’t even build myself my own damn arm!” he roared. In his anger, he grabbed his arm off his desk and tossed it. It hit the far wall with a loud clatter. The obnoxious noise silenced his fury and brought him down to the floor. He braced his back against his desk and hugged his knees. He felt like the world was ending.

“Brother,” Alphonse whispered quietly, though it seemed any further words evaded him. Edward knew he was a mess. He wanted nothing more than to just brush off his feelings, but he couldn’t this time. They hurt and he couldn’t stop them from hurting. He was sitting there, a ball of tears, without even all his limbs. He really was pathetic.

“Edward,” he heard Winry say through the silence. Her voice was stiff. “I will finish your arm.”

“No,” Edward sniffled firmly as he tried to reel himself back in. “No. I can… I can do it.”

“I know you can, but that doesn’t mean you have to,” she said. Edward needed to finish his arm. He needed to calm down. He needed to… he needed to… His list of needs went on and on. He knew that he could do all of them, but his head spun, and he couldn’t focus on any of it. Yet, he couldn’t put any of that on Winry.

“I don’t want to force you out into the stone. I can do it. I just… I just need to-“

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure. And who are you thinking you can make me do anything?” he heard Winry’s voice shake slightly at an attempt of humor. Her discomfort in the armor was evident, but her determination was stronger. She desperately wanted to help him through his hurt. The only way she knew how was through automail. “I will finish your automail. Please.”

Edward bit his lip. He knew what the armor did to Winry, but her mind was set. He reluctantly relented as he drew up a delicate suit of armor. He constructed Winry’s armor differently than his brother’s and Mustang’s. It was thinner, more easily to manipulate when using tools or picking up small pieces. Though she didn’t go into the armor often at all, he tried to make it suit her best he could. An arching red array sprung through the air as Edward summoned Winry’s soul into his palm.

“If you start feeling overwhelmed, I am putting you right back in,” he warned her. The soul spark spat in its flame as if she was retorting. He casted it through the circle and in a blazing red light, she was bound.

“Winry?” he asked cautiously as the armor shook to life. Winry stood stiff, seemingly getting used to her surroundings as the armor encased her in an unfeeling void. He reached out to her, but his hand was quickly smacked away as he should have expected.

“Talk to your brother. I will finish your arm,” was all she said before she turned and grabbed his automail from where he threw it. Edward watched as she settled into her work. She was stiff and tight, being very uncomfortable in her surroundings. He knew that she didn’t want to be so curt. She just didn’t like to be touched when she couldn’t feel it. It was too much of a reminder of what they all had lost. What Edward failed to get them back to.

“Brother,” Alphonse scolded him gently.

“I know what you are going to say, that it’s not my fault,” Edward muttered sadly.

“And no matter how many times we say it, it won’t be any less true.” The stone coaxed him to sit on his couch as he watched Winry tinker away with the last few pieces he had constructed for his arm. He talked quietly to his brother about Nick. The longer he talked, the more he felt the crushing weight of grief lift from him. He realized that after Nick’s first death, he hadn’t talked about it until that moment. Not really. Not in the way he should have.

“He’s dead but his ghost is just petrified. You’ll be able to talk to him again soon enough.”

There was a knock on his door and Edward looked up suddenly. He quickly wiped the tears from his face as he stumbled to the door. He opened it to see Minerva standing outside. She was checking up on him, bringing along her own tray of tea. Just like the ghosts in the castle who struggle to find someone to relate to in their old lives, Edward struggled to find someone to talk about his. Nick had been that person. But, now with him gone, Edward still knew that there were at least a good few people to talk to in the world. He wasn’t alone and, like always, he would get through.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 33

Yuletide Greetings

Edward sat in the Hospital Ward and talked quietly to the darkened figure of his friend who sat motionless as he floated six inches from the floor. Apparently, they had tried to lift his ghostly figure into the bed, but he just fell right through. At least he was glad to see that the nurse had the right of mind to not keep him floating underneath a mattress. Despite being petrified, Edward talked to Nick for the possibility that he might hear him and in the shallow and futile hopes that he might awaken. Many of the other students who were friends with Justin and Colin also partook in the little ritual as they talked to their petrified peers. Though Poppy did not like visitors in the ward, she knew that while they waited for the patients’ cure, the visitors themselves could be healed. So, she allowed them in for a couple of minutes each day.

He talked to his friend and kept him caught up on everything that had happened in the past week. He was relieved to tell him that he finally had his arm back. Though he was upset that Nick couldn’t watch it be completed, he was grateful to have two working hands now. Winry had finished it within only a couple of hours, half the time it would have taken him to complete it. The instant she was finished, she asked to be returned to the stone. Edward didn’t fight her and quickly took her back in to be with the rest of the souls. She retreated within the stone for a few days as she recovered from her time in the armor. She was only just resurfacing now and was finally warming up to talking to other souls once more. Edward felt bad for putting her in the armor since she was left so distressed afterward, but she kept reminding him that she wanted to do it. He was very grateful for her help. With his arm back, he didn’t feel quite as useless as before. Maybe he could defend himself or a student this time around.

The second attack on a student left the school in a frightened mess. Many of the students had made last-minute plans to return home for the winter break with the uncertainty that they would return after. The castle was left nearly empty but always on guard. The next attack, they all felt, was imminent though they didn’t know when and they didn’t know on whom. Even with most of the student body gone for winter break, Hogwarts decided to level up their safeguards to keep everyone feeling as safe as possible. Teachers and staff were required to be in the dorm on a rotational basis to keep an eye out for the students. Having the faculty be more present in the students’ lives gave them the illusion of safety that they needed. Though Edward didn’t know if someone like Gilderoy would be a safe person to hide behind when the monster came knocking again. Edward was scheduled for a few rotations limited only to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers. Hufflepuff and Slytherin dormitories were sublevel and he got omitted from their rosters on account of his fear of the cellars.

Edward only finished his one-sided discussion with Nick when Poppy came around to tell him that time was up. He was booted from the Ward with a lemon drop as a courtesy from the nurse. He roamed around the hallways of the castle, sucking on the lemon drop, enjoying the peace of the day. With most of the students gone, it was very reminiscent of his first time there. It was well lived in but quiet, vacant, and –

SNAP BANG!

Edward took back his previous thought as he watched the two Weasley twins furiously fight through a card game of Exploding Snap in the Great Hall as the other teachers and students were putting up various decorations. He looked around and took in the tinsel and the trees that were scattered throughout the castle. He knew that the Feast of Nativity had grown into one of the largest winter celebrations in recent years, but he was still amazed at the transformations a town could make during the season. Dark corners would be lit up in blistering lights and evergreen trees would twinkle brighter than stars. Though Edward didn’t celebrate the Feast of Nativity, he always appreciated the beauty that it brought.

The faculty were busy decorating a variety of 12 evergreen trees that were scattered throughout the Great Hall. Edward highly suspected that Rubeus was responsible for bringing them in and had done so recently as snow still scattered the prickly green branches. Each tree rose to amazing heights and sparkled with the bewitching lights that hung around them. Edward couldn’t help but stare in awe.

“This is enormous,” he heard his brother gasp, and rightfully so. The last Nativity that he saw at Hogwarts held only a single tree and barely enough garland to scatter the tables. It appeared that over the years, the school had collected their decorations for such an elaborate display.

“Trumps my first Nativity,” Edward muttered. He walked over to where he saw Severus and Filius decorating a tree. They worked together to get their section of the hall decorated, much like the other professors were doing around the other trees.

“Edward,” Severus acknowledged his presence as he stood up on a ladder and took the ornament that the charms professor was handing to him with a levitation charm.

“Looks great! I almost forgot it was this time of year again,” he said and offered to start decorating the lower half of the tree. The two professors nodded eagerly as they took all the help they could get.

“It does come the same time every year,” Severus noted dryly. “Just like every year, the students are going to get hopped up on sugar and wait for their presents from Saint Nick.”

“I thought Saint Nicholas did the present thing on December 6^th…. Or am I wrong?” Edward asked in confusion. He tried to remember what day he had seen people prepare for the holidays. He could have sworn the last time he was in Europe they celebrated it earlier. Yet now that he thought of it, he might have just forgotten the calendar day which he did quite often when he was chasing after Flamel. The two wizards looked at him blankly.

“Do you not celebrate Christmas, Edward?” Filius asked. He shook his head and hung another ornament.

“No. To put it lightly, Christianity and I didn’t get off on the right foot I guess you could say. I haven’t celebrated the Feast of Nativity in years but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it. I think it’s nice to celebrate for the season, though the holiday is a bit milder than a few hundred years ago,” Edward said.

“Oh? What was it like if you don’t mind me asking?” Edward shrugged.

“Kind of the same stuff with the presents and candles but… bigger. Instead of each family doing it individually a whole town would come together. It was a sight to see the whole town square lit up,” Edward said. He took a second to look around the Great Hall at all the glistening lights. “To be honest, this is close to it. You really went all out on the decorations! Best I have seen at Hogwarts as of yet.” They did. Edward hadn’t seen the castle that beautiful in years. The entire place was garnished with tinsel and ornaments. There were garlands and wreaths around every railing and staircase. He couldn’t wait to see it during what he presumed would be a holiday feast, despite not knowing the exact day. The charms professor blushed at the compliment making Edward imagine that he was the mastermind behind that year’s décor.

“It is my favorite holiday. Severus won’t admit it, but it is his too. Can’t lay off that eggnog, can you?” Filius teased the potions master who rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“That was one year, Filius! Might I remind you that it was Rubeus who forgot that not everyone has the alcohol tolerance of a draft horse,” Severus defended himself which only made Edward laugh as he couldn’t imagine any of the professors there letting loose over a holiday party.

“What I would pay to see that,” Edward chuckled making Severus only glower even more darkly.

“And you can!” Filius exclaimed none the wiser to Severus’ murderous intent. “All the teachers and staff are invited to the holiday party. It’s Christmas Eve in the lower dungeon! There will be food, music, and of course eggnog-“

“Oh, the dungeons, uhh,” Edward nervously stumbled. “I might be… uh… busy. When’s Christmas Eve again?”

“December 24^th,” he answered.

“Right. Yeah, uh, let me check my calendar on that one and I will… um, get back to you?”

“Don’t worry about it, Edward, we will move the location to accommodate, and you can come if you are free,” Severus sighed. “I would rather not run out of Peace Draught when my potions cabinets are already ravaged as is.” Filius looked confused at their exchange but not all were privy to the knowledge of his fear of the dungeons. Edward, however, felt a huge weight lift off his chest. At least he wasn’t going to be forced to go down there. He would have enjoyed a holiday party, but he didn’t think he could suffer through anything such as he did for Nick’s death day party.

“What, pray tell, winter holiday does the Eastern Sage celebrate if not Christmas?” It seemed this was Severus’ attempt to desperately change the subject from parties regarding his inebriation. Edward was also grateful for the subject change as it looked like Filius wanted to ask questions about the dungeons.

“We celebrate Yule,” Edward replied honestly. “We have since we were little. It was a very common holiday in my country. We would get together and celebrate the Winter Solstice. The town would gather around a bonfire near the cemetery. We would eat, share presents, and tell stories until the fire went out. I still try to celebrate in some capacity but… it’s a bit difficult when there is only one of me,” he admitted. “Now we only do a Yule log.” Thinking about it, Edward stopped what he was doing. The Winter Solstice was only a few days away. With all the running around that he was doing he had nearly forgotten.

Despite being so far away from Amestris and being by himself, he still celebrated Yule in whatever capacity he could. The souls in the stone bloomed with excitement as they started to realize what time of year it was. Edward felt a warmth in his chest that was difficult to ignore. Regardless of their religion, race, or lifestyle, the souls within the stone were eager to celebrate as they always have. Unfortunately, this time Edward was behind on his preparations. He needed to get started if he planned to celebrate on time. He cursed silently at the realization and quickly hung his last ornament.

“I am sorry, but I am going to have to go. I forgot Yule was so close. I got some stuff I need to do for that,” he told them truthfully. The two professors looked at each other in confusion but shrugged as they let Edward runoff. He sprinted out into the Entrance Hall as he mentally started to make a list of the things he needed to do for their Yule celebration.

“Brother, do you need help? Can I help? Pleeeeeeaaaaaassseee?” he heard his brother beg which made him smile.

“I don’t know. I got a new arm. I think I should be able to crank this holiday out by myself this year. Can’t get carpal tunnel with metal wires. I think I can do this year solo,“ Edward slyly taunted his sibling.  

“No, you can’t!”  his brother exclaimed like he was speaking blasphemy. Edward chuckled and clapped his hands. In a minute, his brother was bound into his armor. He got a well-deserved punch to the arm for toying with him but Alphonse’s excitement could not be kept down by a little teasing.

“Where are we going to get a log?” Alphonse asked as he was practically jumping up and down in anticipation.

“I was thinking of seeing what Rubeus had. It might not be oak though- Ahh!” Edward barely finished before his arm was seized by his brother. Alphonse drug him out of the castle and down to the groundskeeper’s hut within seconds. Edward didn’t even think that his feet touched the snow. However, when they arrived at the hut, the lack of ice on his boots was quickly remedied when Fang tackled him to the ground. The roaring laugh of the groundskeeper only lightened already high spirits.

“My bad again, Edward. What can I do for yer?” the man asked as Alphonse eagerly shook his hand in a confusing introduction. It looked like Hagrid was already chopping wood for the many fireplaces in the castle. With the holidays coming around, Edward was sure that the man had a lot of work to do.

“We are looking for a Yule log!” Alphonse said excitedly. Rubeus set down his axe in amusement at the armor’s infectious excitement.

“A yule log?” he asked curiously.

“Like Alphonse said,” Edward added, “Do you have any oak?” Rubeus scratched his beard in thought.

“Yeah, now that yer mentions it. But it’s mostly sessile. Is that alright with yer?”

“Of course!” Alphonse exclaimed as he practically dove into the pile of wood by the man’s house. Together the three of them looted around the pile that Rubeus had hauled in and pulled out a rather large log. It was uncut and still with the bark on it. Many knots twisted into the wood, but it stood firm and beautiful. It was untouched except by a few true swings of an axe. It reminded Edward of the first Yule he could remember. It was all four of them together, Alphonse, Mom, Dad, and him. The log that the town had put together was basically an entire tree. While each family contributed their log to the pile, he had never thought he could see a bonfire grow that tall and bright. While their fire this year would only be made of one true Yule log, to Edward and Alphonse that one looked perfect.

“Just give me a second. I’ll get that chopped down for yer,” Rubeus hummed as he picked up his axe once more.

“Noo!!” Edward and Alphonse yelled together, nearly startling the giant. He looked down at them curiously.

“Yer sure? Gonna need a big fire for a log like that.”

“It’s perfect!” Alphonse cheered as he picked the huge thing up and started to run back to the castle with it. His armor figure handled the giant thing like it was a piece of paper. He instantly forgot his brother in his wake. Edward apologized to Rubeus and thanked him once more before chasing his brother back up the hill. Alphonse didn’t waste any time as he promptly sat down at one of the many empty tables in the Great Hall with his giant log. The other faculty who were still decorating the last of the trees looked rather disturbed to see the dirty piece of wood on the table, but Edward just waved to them apologetically before taking his seat across from his brother. After a wave of his wand, he had two pens and a large stack of paper with them. This was going to be the hard part in preparation for Yule.

Whether or not he had a real celebration, Edward would always make sure to make the Yule log every year. It was something that lifted his spirits as well as all those in the stone. For each one of them, he would write out a wish, a note of memorial, or a good luck quote that they wanted to send through the new year. He would then wrap them up together and burn them with the log as was tradition for the Yule holiday. The souls in the stone got super excited when Yule came around as they let their voices be heard and put into something tangible. Each one of them participated regardless of where they came from or who they were. It was the one time of year they truly spoke up. Though Edward did his best to get all their voices heard, he was limited in his own ability to keep up with the writing. He usually only got a hundred thousand done if he started early enough, which meant many of the souls had to wait for the following year. They were a patient bunch and sure enough, they waited.

Alphonse got started on hollowing out the log for use while Edward wrote the notes on small strips of paper. The carving was all done by hand as alchemizing the log seemed cheap and offended their Ishvalan souls who decided to participate in their tradition. Alphonse was always good at art and made sure all his cuts were done smoothly and with great calculation. Though he was absent from the celebrations for the last 600 years, his hand still held to his previous years of practice. Edward on the other hand was trying for speed as he quickly wrote one by one, the wishes of the millions of souls in the stone. Where normally the stone was a chaotic mess of conversation, during Yule they took their turn and he listened intently.

“What are you doing?” Edward heard someone ask as he got a few pages of parchment into his notes. He looked up to see Filius standing there with a curious expression on his face.

“We are making a Yule log!” Alphonse answered him as Edward continued to write.

“Oh that’s nice!” the charms professor said though paused as he realized he didn’t know what it was. Alphonse kindly explained it to him.

“Well, it sounds like you have a lot to do!” Filius exclaimed. “We just finished up with our Christmas decorations. I could write a few notes for you if that would help.” Edward paused from where he was writing and looked up.

“You want to help?” he asked in confusion. “There’s 50 million people to write for-“

“Which just means more help would be good, yes? While we celebrate Christmas here, I wouldn’t want to ignore someone else’s holiday traditions especially since it impacts… 50 million you say? Well, that’s quite a lot of people who would want a holiday,” Filius chuckled nervously. That was the first time anyone offered to help the people in the stone directly. Though he knew the faculty was still confused as to the matter of the stone itself, it seemed that Filius was doing his best to understand. In doing so, he wanted to help with the log.

“Uh sure, that would be great, but if you get tired don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Edward said as he handed the short charms professor a length of parchment and a pen. Filius took a seat next to his brother and eagerly started to write for them. Edward voiced the wishes of the souls inside of him and Filius transcribed them onto paper. He often heard the wizard mutter ‘oh that’s a good one’ or ‘what a good story!’ or even ‘oh dear, I am sorry for their loss’ as he wrote down what he could. Edward felt the souls inside of him blush in the compliments that the other teacher was giving them.

As they worked, the other faculty started to notice what they were up to and one by one they joined. Soon the table was full of wizards eagerly writing random phrases or remembrances that Edward dictated. Pomona helped his brother with hollowing and then decorating the Yule log while some of the other faculty made the strips of paper to tuck inside. Eventually, they all ran out of parchment and had over seven thousand notes from the couple hours of work they put into it.

Edward thanked them all for their work as he imagined the carpal tunnel all of them probably had from their writing expedition. Yule was still a couple days away but he continued to write notes from the stone where he could. Many of the faculty would catch him hunting through the storerooms for extra parchment or even stealing a yard to two from their own desks when they weren’t looking. They eagerly gave up their paper and offered to help where they could. It only reinforced Edward’s own excitement for the holidays.

The evening of Yule arrived on December 21^st and Edward eagerly grabbed the heavy log and ran down through the castle with it in his arms. The old thing was cleaned up and stuffed with thousands of strips of paper inside its hollowed out form. Holly branches and dried orange peels decorated it as courtesy of the herbology teacher, and in the wood itself were the delicately carved images of snow over a grassy field. He felt his brother’s soul bristle with pride at his handy work. It was a skill that only got better with time.

As he ran through the Entrance Hall, he saw many of the teachers who were gathering a small dinner watch in complete bafflement as he sprinted out of the castle and into the cold snow with the log in tow. He went down to the bottom of the hill where Rubeus had left the small burning pit cleared and open for him as requested. He built a small bonfire and perched the Yule log delicately on top of it. It was by far the smallest yule fire he had seen, and yet he was happy to see it all the same. He felt the souls of the stone light up in him and cheer out excitedly for him to ignite it.

After a couple of matches, the fire caught and ignited the pile of wood and a beautiful blaze. The flames delicately danced and licked the holly branches of their Yule log. The fire grew and burned on, catching the attention of some of the students and faculty. While Edward was the only one who celebrated the holiday there, the other teachers and students swarmed around the blazing fire. They brought with them food, drinks, and chairs so that they can sit and enjoy each other’s company. They told stories to each other and discussed their plans for the holidays over a cup of hot coco. Even in the uncertainty of the year with the mix of chamber and prophecies, everyone decided to forget their fears for a moment and enjoy each other’s presence in the light of the flames.

“Edward,” he heard someone say next to him. He looked over to see Filius standing there. He was bundled up in his hat and mittens, his eyes caught in the entrance of the fire. “I just wanted to tell you that though I might not understand it, it was nice hearing from everyone in the stone, as difficult as it might be. I wanted to wish them a happy Christmas.” Edward’s eyes widened in shock as that was one of the first few times that someone outside of the stone had reached out to communicate to those within. It was a confusing idea, but after writing many notes for the souls, he guessed that the Hogwarts professors had a better idea of the lives of the people who resided in him.

“Thank you,” Edward said with a genuine smile. He felt the stone bristle with gratitude as they heard the holiday greeting. Edward relayed their feelings to the charm’s professor who bristled with delight that his words were heard.

“Considering everyone is telling stories, are there some stories you or one of them want to tell? No pressure of course,” he offered. It appeared that after writing down several hundred of their yearly wishes, he felt connected to them and wanted to learn more. It was very much a Ravenclaw thing to do.

 Edward indulged him in several stories, some of his own and some from the souls in the stone. He talked about how his teacher fought off the bear on the Briggs Mountain, several details even he hadn’t heard until that point. He told him about how one of the Ishvalans survived the desert heat on nothing but cactus juice, which sounded grim but was full of insanity. He even told the story about how he managed to get the Prince of Xing to eat a boot, an all-time low for the new emperor, though Filius was quick to remind him that he also ate it. He relayed the stories as best he could being a world away from Amestris. Yet, in that moment it felt so near. Some of the other teachers gathered around to listen and share.

 The warmth of the fire mitigated any of the cold from winter and in that moment Edward felt truly happy. He remembered his celebrations in Amestris as souls from the stone told stories of their crazy holiday expeditions. And though they were universes away from their home, he didn’t feel homesick as he listened to the stories and tall tales being passed around the bonfire. With a smile, he watched the Yule log burn into the night.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 34

Christmas Potions

The yule log burned into the night, and it was only the following morning that Edward was able to gather the ashes. The ashes of the yule log were always supposed to be full of luck and so he would always gift it to someone who he thought needed a little bit of a hand. This year, Edward made the trip down to the greenhouses to give the bottle of ashes to Pomona. She had been working day in and out trying to get the mandrakes grown for the cure to the school’s petrification problem. She worked so hard on them some days that she had to even cancel a few classes. When Edward gave her the ashes, she was so overwhelmed with joy that she almost started crying.

“These are just what I need. The soil has been off,” she had said and immediately dumped the ashes into the mandrake’s soil. Edward spent the afternoon helping her mix it in as an additional fertilizer and repotting the mandrakes which had grown out of their infant pots. They were a bit feistier than Edward remembered them being, but Pomona said they were just going through puberty and would calm down later.

The days following Yule went by slow as all the students and faculty were in a slog as they waited for their own holiday of Christmas. Edward used the confusing chaos to research a way home. With no lead and no luck, he only found his hopes dwindle with every page turned. He was so desperate for some sort of lead, he even picked up his old student’s published writings. The notes on alchemy were appalling but as he learned from reading Dr. Marcoh’s notes back in Amestris, there is always something deeper.

On the night of the 24^th Edward was pulled out of the library by Pomona who, despite his arguing, dragged him down to the rear hall where the Christmas Eve faculty party was being hosted. She said that they had moved it from the dungeons for him so he might as well enjoy himself. And enjoy himself, he did.

If Edward was anyone else except for the Eastern Sage, he would have woken up Christmas morning with the worse hangover in his life, either that or alcohol poisoning. Unfortunately for him, he was the Eastern Sage and the copious amount of eggnog that he consumed had gone to waste.

“You want a hangover?” Mustang sarcastically asked. No. Edward did not want a hangover, but he did wish that he could enjoy himself with a drink on occasion. At least his tolerance to alcohol won him a bet as he drank Rubeus under the table. He didn’t think the giant would be waking up very happy that morning.

As Edward crawled out of bed, he was met with what no one in their right mind wanted to see when they woke up. His room was full of owls. Each one of them carried a package in their talons and awaited a treat for their services. Edward groaned to himself and got up to bat the birds away. He couldn’t imagine who would be mailing him anything. He didn’t have anyone to send letters to and he didn’t remember ordering anything recently that would warrant a delivery.

“Who sent you?” he grumbled as he picked up the first package. The owl pecked angrily at his hand as he didn’t reward it with a treat. He cursed at it and pointed to the desk where a treat bag for his owl Sock lied. To his relief all the birds in the room caught the hint and flew over to retrieve their payment. Rolling his eyes, he looked back down to the package which had a small letter attached to it. To his surprise it was from Arthur Weasley.

“Weasley? You mean that nice man from the ministry?” Alphonse asked quietly.

“Yeah, I wonder what he wants,” Edward mumbled and opened the letter.

Edward,

              I heard the unfortunate news that Nicolas Flamel has died. I give you my greatest condolences and hope that you are doing alright and are in fair health. Molly and I wanted to wish you a Happy Christmas from Romania. Without your help we wouldn’t have been able to make this trip to see our son, Charlie. We plan to go to Egypt next to visit Bill’s work site. It is very nice to see what our sons are up to. We hope everything is going on well back at Hogwarts. Stop by and visit us anytime!

-The Weasleys

PS. Molly thought you might get a little cold in the winter.

Edward smiled as he read the letter. Arthur had included a picture of the two of them standing next to a rather tall red-headed wizard holding a small dragon in his hands. He had enough information to safely assume that was Charlie. The picture moved and smiled at him excitedly. Edward gently set the letter aside and opened the small package that came with it.

To his shock, inside was a warm hand knitted sweater. He picked it up as a sense of warmth filled the stone. He had only visited the Weasleys that one day, half of which was spent on business in the Muggle Artifacts department. He didn’t think that he would have been memorable enough to send a holiday gift to. He eagerly slid it on. It was loose and bulgy in some parts where the stitching had gotten out of hand. Edward smiled happily as he looked down at the knit monstrosity.

“You need to send them a thank you card. That was nice of them to remember you,” he heard Winry say. Edward agreed. He looked up and to his grateful horror realized that the other owls there must have also been Christmas gifts. He stood completely awestricken that so many people had remembered him over a holiday he didn’t even recognize. He wasn’t used to so much attention.

The stone urged him to open his packages and slowly, one by one, he did. A few of the packages were surprisingly from Irma, the librarian. Edward was not on good terms with her at all and was constantly feuding over his use of the library. Yet she had the thought of sending him an oil painting set and canvas. She had remembered his comment about painting the Mona Lisa and had said that painting might keep him out of the library and out of her hair for at least a little while.

Another package was from Minerva who remembered that he had witnessed his first game of Quidditch that year and had gotten him a beginner’s guide to the sport. Maybe when the next match came around he would be better prepared to watch it. The next match was Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff so fittingly she also included a warm knit scarf of his own house colors.

The final owl held an envelope from the Weasley twins. He cautiously opened it. When it didn’t explode in his face, he looked in to find a note and a single playing card. It was a chocolate frog Famous Witches and Wizards card #310 Paracelsus. Edward rolled his eyes. Yet again, those devils stole his card from their brother. However, as he looked at it he realized that the picture wasn’t one of an old man with a long beard, but one of him.

“Fixed it for you,” was all the note said. Edward stared at the picture of him moving in the card. His face looked stern but within his eyes remained a mischievous glean. Edward didn’t know why he was so taken back by seeing a picture of himself. He looked at himself in the mirror every day when he brushed his teeth. It wasn’t anything different. However, that might have been it. It wasn’t different. He rarely ever had photographs taken of him, at least in this universe. Most wizards’ understanding of what he looked like was based on legends or fiction. Seeing himself reflected so flawlessly on something as simple as a playing card was something he forgot could happen.

“That was my expression when I had my first photograph,” Hohenheim mused as Edward forgot to wipe the shocked expression off his face.

“This isn’t my first photograph,” he grumbled as he tucked the card gently away in his pocket. His father chuckled at his denial.

“Yes, but it was so long before cameras were even invented here and even then it was nearly 100 years since you had yours taken,” Hohenheim noted. “A good picture kind of leaves an impression.” Edward thought about that for a second but eventually shook his head in disregard.

After getting himself ready for the day and donning his new sweater, Edward made his way down to the Great Hall. As he strolled in, he saw that the few students left in the castle were showing off their new Christmas presents. Gadgets and gizmos were everywhere, only adding to the mystical glimmer of the morning. He spotted Harry and Ron both wearing a wool sweater of their own, compliments of Mrs. Weasley.

“If I had to wear a sweater like that, people would think that I lived in a troll’s hankey,” he heard a loud snide comment come from the Slytherin table. Edward looked up to see Draco Malfoy making pointed comments towards Harry and Ron about their sweaters, obviously not seeing that a teacher was standing right there.

“Now don’t be jealous,” Edward teased back. Draco’s face paled as he caught sight of not only a teacher but the Eastern Sage himself wearing the subject of his ridicule. “If you like our sweaters so much, you can make one yourself.” The Slytherin student sank down in his chair as the attention of a faculty member was on him. The other students who were participating in his mocking scattered, leaving Edward to smirking to himself.

“Looks like my mum got to you too, professor,” Ron muttered bleakly. Edward laughed.

“Yes. I will be sure to send her my thanks.”

“Thank’s wouldn’t be the word I would use.”

“You will learn one day that simple things like this make life worth living,” he smiled gently. Each of the Gryffindors looked a little happier with their sweaters after seeing the great Eastern Sage comfortably wearing his. Edward went over to the high table to take his seat with the rest of the faculty. While most of the teachers had traveled for the holidays, the heads of houses along with a few others were a few still left in the castle to watch the students. Just like the students, they too were sharing some of the gifts that they had received that Christmas morning.

“Happy Christmas, Edward,” Pomona cheered brightly. She, like always, was covered in dirt, but now she was wearing a new and clean gardening hat. He suspected that by the end of that morning, it too would be covered in copious amounts of soil and fertilizer.

“Happy Christmas,” he returned and took his seat beside her. “How’s everyone feeling? Don’t think I partied like that since the prohibition ended.”

“Well, some better, some worst, I would say,” Pomona hummed. “It is only once a year us teachers can really let loose a bit. Some tend to go overboard. That is why I always bring some of my pureed herbs for those who might need a pick me up.” Edward looked across the table and saw Hagrid cradling a large bucket of what he suspected was the herbs. He was fairing well after the party but was not the best in that moment. He was surprised that he was up at all. Gilderoy on the other hand, looked as bright as ever despite finishing a bottle of Ogden’s fire whiskey that he had been gifted by a mysterious fan, who Edward high expected was himself. However, amongst all the chipper or aching faces around the breakfast table that morning, there was one notable face that was missing.

“Severus didn’t come down,” Minerva noted. “He’s a bit… under the weather.”

“More like under the table,” Edward commented with a small laugh. “I might have been a bit heavy handed with pouring his drinks. Kind of forget some people are a light weight.”

“Everyone compared to you is a light weight,” Hohenheim retorted dryly which Edward only shrugged off.

“Hope I didn’t ruin his Christmas,” he added honestly.

“He will be fine. Just sent him some good old refreshing herbal tea that should pick him up quick. Despite being sour most of the year, he does appreciate a good party even if it goes a bit too far,” Pomona said.

“I can understand that,” Edward chuckled as he remembered Severus at the Weasley’s celebration. Though he knew that the potion’s professor would never have been at the Weasley’s house if he wasn’t investigating the root of the mysterious donations, he did appear to enjoy himself while he was there. It seemed even a bitter old man could enjoy himself occasionally.

“Unfortunately, that does bring about an issue,” Minerva said after a moment of thought. “Severus was supposed to be on duty tonight in the Slytherin common room. With him out sick, we need another faculty member to watch it.” Edward admitted he completely forgot that would have been an issue. The faculty have been taking turns watching the dormitories in the evenings to put the kids minds at ease. With all of the petrification’s and threats of murder, the students felt more comfortable when they saw teachers around.

Tentatively, Pomona asked, “Would you be able to watch the dormitory tonight? All the other available staff are on holiday.”  

“The... Slytherin dormitory? In the dungeons? I don’t mind watching one of the dorms but… but can’t I look after a different dorm? I usually look after Ravenclaw Tower,” he asked desperately as he already felt the claws of fear settle around his stomach.

“Well… this goes a little more beyond just watching the dorms. It is tradition that the heads of houses to be with their students on Christmas. It’s only for a couple hours until the kids go to bed,” Pomona reassured him, though that did little to ease his worry.

“Are you going to be okay, Edward?” Minerva asked as she knew his fear from his stories. Aside from Minerva and Severus, not many of the faculty knew about his fear and far fewer knew why. He was grateful that Minerva was tightlipped about his tales from his first few years in that world. It wasn’t something he wanted many people to know about. Despite not telling anyone, he was grateful that both Minerva and Severus were considerate and helped where he might need it. However, this time, Edward dared himself a brave face. He had gone down to the dungeon a few times since he got there. Each time it had gotten a little easier, though that didn’t mean it was easy. He knew he could do it even if he really didn’t want to.

“We are proud of you, Edward,” he heard Winry say to him softly. “At the beginning of the year, considering this wasn’t even an option. You’ve come far.” Edward didn’t think that it was far enough.

“Yeah… it’s only for a few hours?” he asked and the two of them nodded their heads.

“And most of the students have gone home for the holidays. There should only be a few and they’re not too much of a bother,” Pomona said encouragingly. “And if there is ever a moment that you need to step out, just send me a message. I am right in the basement and can be down in a jiffy if you need to run an errand or two.” He could tell that she didn’t fully understand his reluctance to go into the dungeons, but he was nonetheless grateful for her offer of help.

After accepting his new assignment, they chatted lightly and he finish his dread filled breakfast. When they were done, they each parted ways to their own respective dormitories. Edward watched Pomona and Minerva encounter several students from their own houses eagerly show them their new gifts and gizmos. The excitement and joy on the students faces made the bubbling anxiety in his stomach lift ever so slightly. It was a holiday, there shouldn’t be anything to be afraid of.

“It will be fine,” Winry reassured him and he believed her.

………….

Edward uncorked one of the vials of peace draught he had brought with him and steeled his nerves as he stared down the stairs to the dungeons. It was going to be a long night, but he came prepared. He stocked up on some reading materials and his research notes then added a couple extra bottles of peace draught to his bag for good measure. He was not going to run out like the last time.

“You should have brought your paints to pass the time. Try to relax,” his brother suggested.

“Yeah, and let everything come out like Munch? I think I’ll just save the paints for when my hands aren’t shaking as much.” Just like he said it, his hands were already shaking at the sight of the dungeons. It was so much so that he nearly spilt the peace draught when he tried to drink it. However, once the vial was emptied, he felt his nerves become numb and his hand stilled to only a slight tremor. While he was grateful for the drug induced ease, it was always an overwhelming effect for him. After a heavy breath and an encouraging word from his brother, Edward descended into the dungeons once more.

Despite spending a hundred years in the castle, he had never been into or near the Slytherin common room until recently. He refused by any means to go into the dungeons during his time there. Salazar would force him into a near drug induced coma just to hold his lessons in potions and Herpetology in the dungeons. Even then, they only ever made it to the second chamber before even the strongest draught would prove useless against his irrational fear. He had to thank Severus for pointing out the dormitory on his last time down when they were wrangling the snake. That, combined with the small hastily written directions Pomona gave him, allowed him to find the dormitory at all considering the door was just a bland unmarked wall.

“Do you know the password?” Alphonse asked and he scoffed.

“It’s some Salazar bigoted bullshit. Don’t understand why his ego still hangs around,” he grumbled as he pulled out the wadded-up note of instructions.

“Maybe its because he founded it?” his brother retorted blandly.

 “Pureblood,” Edward read off the paper.

“Whoa, I thought you were overexaggerating,” Alphonse said in amazement as the stones of the wall behind them began to neatly tuck away. “How does Dumbledore approve that?”

“Like he does everything, with his ears closed and his nose in someone else’s business.”

The Slytherin common room was more elegant than one would expect for it being in the dungeon. Large smooth stone columns rose up to a high ceiling with green velvet tapestries cascading down them. Lavish green lanterns lit up the room by candlelight. However, they shone little in comparison to the magically induced sunlight entered in through the large stained glass windows that peered out into the surrounding lake. Edward’s eyes widened as he saw the shadow of a giant squid pass by one of the windows. Merlin had always told him the lake had a monster in it, but he never believed him. After a thousand years he looked to be proven right.

Edward scouted the dormitory to see what was around, but his nerves never let him stray too far from the door. The souls of the stone tried to encourage him farther through the chambers, but Edward was stubborn and kept to where he knew he was most comfortable. He sat down at a study table by the doorway and pulled out their research notes. Edward had made what he hoped was progress chasing Nicolas’ work though it was not enough to give him a definitive answer on how to get them home.

“Do you think Nicolas figured it out like he said?” Alphonse asked lightly in thought. Edward shrugged.

“It would be the only worthwhile thing he figured out in his life,” he muttered. He worked to keep himself distracted from the dungeons until a small commotion stirred him from his work. He looked up to see a few Slytherin students lounging on the couch in the common room. They were talking loudly about the Chamber of Secrets, a popular conversation in the school now a days.

“I can’t believe people think Potter is the Slytherin heir! Not when he’s all jumped up for that mudblood Granger,” Malfoy mocked. “I wish I knew who it was. I could help them.”

“Do you have some idea who it is?” Goyle, the kid’s friend asked. Edward knew them all from his class, but he never knew Goyle to ask a legitimate question in his life. The kid barely spoke other than to grunt out a yes or no. Not only that, but Edward didn’t know that the kid wore glasses. Malfoy shrugged at Goyle’s question.

“Of course I don’t. My father wouldn’t tell be anything besides the last time the chamber opened a mudblood died. This time, I hope it’s Granger.”

“How could you say something like that?” Edward snapped at his student’s brashness. Malfoy and his two friends spun around and looked at them, apparently forgetting that he was there. Edward knew Draco to be a young bigot, playing up his racist comments and arrogance for the cheering of his friends. It was something that had landed Draco in his detention before and undoubtedly would again now. However, he didn’t think that the kid would be blind enough to wish for the death of a fellow classmate.

“Well, Professor Elric, am I wrong?” Malfoy said arrogantly as he refused to back down. As they said, stubbornness was a fool’s best friend. “You knew the founders, right? Slytherin had done something right in making that chamber. Mudbloods make a mockery of magic. It’s better if they’re –“ Edward gritted his teeth in annoyance and slammed his hand down on the table, silencing the kid’s brash comments.

“The only thing that is a mockery here is you,” Edward barked. “You talk about death like it is a joke. You’re a stupid kid who doesn’t even understand the world let alone be able to make judgements on who’s in it!”

“Well my father said that Slytherin-“

“Who gives a shit about what your father said?! What are you going to do? Just quote him for the rest of your life without making a single thought of your own? You’re smarter than that!” he roared. Malfoy looked very taken back. It seemed that no other teacher had spoke to his ignorance like that before.

“Salazar Slythin preached the value of blood and yet knew nothing about the value of human life itself. He showed me personally multiple times that he treats others not as people but as tools to get ahead. The only thing sacred to the man was himself.” Edward lectured when he saw that his student had nothing to retort. His hands started shaking at the mere thought of what Salazar had done to him. Modern day would call it torture. Back then, it was only detention. He wanted to use him as a weapon of purification. To Salazar he was a test subject, a specimen.

“Brother, you are not back there. You are okay. He can’t use you anymore,” he heard his brother softly say to him as he felt his breathing start to hitch. He needed to ground himself. He couldn’t think about that, there. Edward took a deep breath and glared down at his foolish student. While Edward knew first hand the hatred Slytherin had for muggles, this kid knew nothing. He was preaching words he did not understand which brewed hatred for people he did not know.

“The next time you wish death upon someone, you better be prepared to take a life for that statement because someone will take a blade to it.” Malfoy was lost for words. Edward looked him over and dared him to say anything more foolish, but the kid’s mouth closed and for once, his stubbornness subsided. Edward didn’t know if it was because his words had sunk in or if it was because Malfoy decided to wallow in his humiliation, but at least he got his point across.

His friends, however, were too scared to stick around. As his words died, the two other slytherins scrambled out of their seats and were making a beeline for the door. Edward moved to yell at them but froze as he saw a spark of red erupt out of the shorter kid’s dark black hair.

“Professor-“ Malfoy started as Edward briskly got up from his chair. However, he didn’t give Malfoy a chance to dig himself a further hole. He sent the kid a stone-cold glare.

“Nothing I say will change your mind, but know that you are better than this,” he said calmly. Without another glance at his foolish student, he began chasing the other two out of the dormitory.

Though the other two had a head start on him, by the end of the dungeon stairs he could see the tails of their robes fleeing. To his amazement, his fear of the dungeons came in handy as the sweet relief of climbing those stairs only made him run faster.  As Edward got to the landing where he saw the kids disappear, he looked down to see an abandoned pair of shoes by an old closet. The door was being pounded from the inside as someone was locked in. He opened the door to see the two students he had thought were originally in the common room. The chubby and goonish figures of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle looked dazed and confused as they stumbled out of the closet. They each were coated in sugary powder and jam from the holiday’s sweets and looked like they were going to be sick.

“P-Professor, what time is it? I don’t feel so good,” Crabbe groaned.

“Get back to your common room, you two. I will deal with you later,” he snapped before he continued his chase down the hallway.

“What is going on? Aren’t those them?” Alphonse asked as he left the two students confused in the dust.

“They’re using Polyjuice potion,” Edward answered. He caught another flash of red as they dashed around a corner and his focus hardened. “And one of them is a Weasley.”

“But why?”

“Because they like to ignore when a teacher tells them not to do anything stupid.” Edward saw the kids ditch their Slytherin green robes outside of a girls bathroom. He would have been concerned about the gender allocation of the latrine but he knew that the bathroom was abandoned. He kicked the doors open with a loud crash, shattering the hushed whispers on the other side.

“You,” Edward seethed as he saw none other than Harry Potter and Ron Weasley looking up at him in shock. It looked like they had thought they had gotten away with it yet both wore their convictions as a green striped tie around their necks. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“P-Professor-“ Ron stumbled for and excuse.

“We thought that we could find the heir-“ Harry admitted.

“The heir? You think Draco Malfoy is the heir?” he asked in disbelief.

“But Professor, you heard him too. He was raving about cleansing the school,” Ron said.

“Malfoy is young and naïve just like you three. The heir wouldn’t be a student, especially one who lacks the ambition needed to do such a thing,” he argued. “You shouldn’t be chasing the heir or this chamber thing. You are only going to get yourselves killed.”

“We just wanted to help,” Harry weakly tried to defend but Edward wouldn’t have it.

“Where is she? I know Granger is here too.”

“How do you know-“

“Don’t play stupid,” he snapped. “I saw her check Moste Potente Potions out of the library. I specifically told her not to meddle with anything in that book. Not only that, but you two couldn’t have done Polyjuice with your grades in potions. Now where is Granger?” The two other Gryffindors seemed hesitant to answer but there was a small squeak from one of the rear bathroom stalls.

“H-here, professor,” he heard Hermione’s voice shiver out.

“I told you not to meddle with this!” Edward scolded her as he made his way to the back of the bathroom. As he was about to open the door, he froze as he heard sniffling on the other side. The girl must have been crying. Laughter picked up overhead and Edward looked up to see a castle ghost he was unfamiliar with but suspected it was the Moaning Myrtle many of the students complained about.

“It’s terrible,” the girl giggled in amusement. “Just you wait and see.” He looked back at the bathroom stall, dread filling him.

“Granger, come on out,” Edward ordered, his voice softer than before as he knew something was wrong. There was a shuffle on the other side and slowly the door opened.

The air left Edward’s chest as he stared in horror as he saw a horrific amalgamation of a dog and a little girl. The twisted form stared up at him, its tortured smile growing as it moved to mouth that painful word-

“Brother!” Alphonse’s voice yelled from the stone and snapped him from his thoughts. Edward covered his mouth and turned his back on his student. The shock rattled through his core and he leaned heavily on one of the sinks for support. The souls in the stone called out to him, swirling words of comfort grounded him. He forced himself to find the air he had lost and breathed in deeply.

“Professor? Are you okay?” he heard the wet tear-filled voice of his student call out behind him. She sounded worried. Edward had to remind himself that this wasn’t Nina. This was his new student, Granger. It had been so long since Edward had even thought about it. He had been so sure the more recent tortures of living in this universe were greater than those seen in his own. He had thought that the old scars in his memory had faded. It appeared he was wrong. He nodded his head and took a few more breaths to calm himself. After steeling himself once more, he braved himself to turn around.

Instead of a dog chimera, Edward saw his student’s face transformed into a cat. She was covered in dark black fur and watched him cautiously with large yellow eyes. She looked pained, like she was on the verge of tears once more from the humiliation.

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” Edward repeated softly, as much as his voice allowed. Tears welled in the girls eyes and she threw herself into a hug as she started to cry once more. Edward stiffened at the embrace, but started to relax as he did his best to comfort his student. To be honest, he was impressed that a second year student was able to procure a fully functional Polyjuice potion. However, it was risks and missteps like these he didn’t want any of his students taking.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured her as he patted her back softly with his own trembling hand. She sniffled and hiccupped as she tried to regain herself once more. She wiped her eyes and Edward gave her one last pat on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to the hospital ward. This is magic, not alchemy. This can be reversed.”

The other two Gryffindor students helped gather her things as Edward bundled Hermione up to try and cover her in her robes. He was sure she didn’t want anyone else to see her in such a state. The walk to the hospital ward was longer than he remembered as the students by him marched along in dread. While he needed to arrange their punishment for breaking several school rules, he knew now wasn’t the time to keep pushing them. At least one of them had enough penance for the time being.

After he got Granger situated in a bed, he sent the other two students back to their own common room with major point deductions for their idiocy. The frustrations of the day had worn him thin. Where he wanted to be angry with them, now he was just tired. He wanted that day to be over with. He made his way back to the dungeon stairwell, intending to endure the last few hours of his shift in the common room. However, now he found himself unable to move down them. He hadn’t the energy to try. With a sigh of defeat he flicked his wand and his patronus flew up the grand staircase.  A few minutes later, Minerva came rushing down, a concerned look on her face.

“I can’t do it,” he admitted in defeat. She simple smiled sadly in acknowledgement and ushered him back up the stairs with her.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 35

Swords and Diaries

Despite being worried for his student, Edward could not bring himself to check up on Hermione in the hospital ward. It had been weeks since she had accidentally polyjuiced herself into a cat, but he didn’t think he could handle seeing her animalistic transformation a second time. As classes started up, he had graciously allowed her friends some class time to take her their work and to keep her company. By word of her friends, she was making a swift recovery and was very adamant to stay on top of her work.

Now, as the month of January was pulling to a close, Edward found himself trying to pick up his old hobby of painting once more. It was a good distraction from the chaos of the school year. With a cup of tea on the table beside him, he sighed peacefully as he tried to relax in the quietness of the rear hall. He delicately placed the oils on the canvas in front of him. With the focus he was putting into the image he was creating, there was little room for his mind to wander into things he didn’t want to think about.

“How do you blend the paints?” he heard his brother ask beside him. He was attempting his own piece on one of the canvases he got for Christmas. Back in Amestris, Alphonse had always been the better artist. He would practice for hours during the nights he couldn’t sleep and could draw amazing sceneries that Edward could only dream of making. However, without a thousand years of practice and tutorship in paints like Edward had, his art career remained stagnant.

Edward leaned over to his brother’s easel. It was a picture of the Resembool countryside, it was a hilltop he knew very well. Even with the blocky and unblended colors, it was a beautiful sight to see. He couldn’t help but smile at it. Alphonse held out his palette and brush but Edward picked up a different one. He showed him how to blend the oil on a small part of the Resembool sky then let his brother take over. Though his large clunky armor hands nearly engulfed the entire paintbrush, he was familiar enough with his metal body to make the fine delicate movements needed to create art.

They worked together in silence, soaking up the ease of that weekend morning. Edward took a sip of his tea only to find it to be paint water, making his brother laugh. After a little while of peaceful enjoyment, Alphonse spoke up.

“Hey, brother,” Alphonse said, a mischievous smile hidden beneath his voice.

“Hmm,” Edward hummed in acknowledgment, not tearing his eyes off his own work.

“Hey, you got to look at this.” Edward turned to look at what his brother was referring to when he turned his head right into a paintbrush full of paint.

“Al!” he shouted in surprise as he got a brush full of gaudy yellow paint smeared on his face. Alphonse dropped, clutching his stomach like it pained him to laugh any harder.  

“You should have seen your face,” he howled. Roar of laughter picked up in the stone as he heard the amusement of the souls from his misfortune.

“You should see your face after I kick your ass! Get over here!” Edward roared as he threw his own paints to the ground and launched himself at his brother. The armor giddily jumped out of the way, laughing all the while he chased him around the room. Edward threw a kick towards his brother, who effortlessly knocked it out of the way. A giant armored fist flew passed him as Edward ducked out of the way and attempted to return the favor. However, as he threw his own punch, Alphonse grabbed his unguarded hand, spun him around and drove him into the ground with a heavy knee pinning him there.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow,” Edward whined as his brother’s armor weighed heavily on him.

“I win again,” his younger brother teased. “After a thousand years, you would think you would learn.”

“After a thousand years, I thought I would win!” Edward growled back.

“Professor?” a quiet voice came out and shattered their arguments. Edward froze and looked up to see a familiar student, Neville Longbottom, staring at them cautiously. “I could come back if now isn’t a good time.” Alphonse loosened his grip and Edward shoved his brother off of him, scrambling to his feet.

“Uh, no. It’s fine,” he stumbled as he straightened out his cloak.

“You got something on your face,” the kid noted. Edward sent a glare at his brother and whipped out his wand, cleaning the paint off.

“What’s going on?” The kid in front of him looked unsure if it really was okay, but after an encouraging nod from his brother, the kid spoke up.

“I, uh, I don’t think the dueling club is going to have another meeting and I wanted to ask if you could teach me more sword work,” Neville asked. “I started to use some of the techniques in class and… my grandmother was pleased I got my first A in charms.” Edward’s eyebrows raised as he heard that his student took his silly sword lesson to heart. While he was just trying to get the kid to learn something he could handle, it seemed that he really did practice and try to get better.

“Uh, sure. I think my brother here might be a better teacher anyway. You can learn from the best. I still can’t beat him.”

“Give it another thousand years, brother,” Alphonse chided which only earned him a kick to the armored shins. Neville’s spirits brightened at his acceptance of a lesson. Edward drew up a couple of blunt swords for them. While Alphonse was great at hand-to-hand combat, Edward was better with the sword. He had spent years under Gryffindor’s tutelage and even after, years in combat through various wars. He knew that if they had a sword duel, he could finally beat his brother.

“Keep dreaming, Fullmetal,” Mustang scoffed at his wishful thinking. They worked together to give Neville a beginner lesson on fighting. Alphonse worked on his footwork while Edward helped him with the blade. By the end, he allowed the kid to take a few swings at him. Though he had good form, the lack of poise allowed Edward to easily bat his sword out of the way. However, with each swing, he saw the kid’s confidence build one step at a time.

“Thank you, professor,” Neville said as he took a seat at one of the tables to catch his breath. Edward sat down next to him and offered him the cup of water after making sure that it didn’t have any paint in it.

“You are doing great,” Edward reassured him. “Keep practicing. It’ll go a long way.”

“It makes more sense than using my wand. Some days I don’t think I was meant to be a wizard,” Neville admitted honestly.

“Don’t say that,” Alphonse said at the student’s disheartened statement. “It’s just about finding your niche. Edward here sucks at transfigurations and anything to do with flying a broom-“

“Hey!”

“- But is very good at potions and charms.” Edward wanted to slap his brother but it seemed that Neville found some comfort in his own humility. It was amazing that someone as old and experienced as he could still be bad at something.

“I guess you’re right,” Neville smiled. As he took a sip of his water, he caught sight of the paintings that were forgotten about. Distracted, the kid got up to look at them.

 “These are really good,” he commented. “Who are they?” Neville was pointing at his own painting. Where Alphonse had painted a beautiful scenery, Edward had done a portrait. In the picture stood familiar uniforms of blue each belonging to someone from their unit.

“That’s my old unit back home,” he said as he pointed out the different people from Colonel Mustang to Lieutenant Hawkeye. The kid was amazed that he was in the military but not surprised as his war stories from class probably were some indications.

“When do you think you are going to finish it?” he asked curiously. Edward found his smile faltering a little bit as he looked back at his painting. While he had spent a good time painting them, each one of them had a major part of them missing; their faces. He knew what his friends looked like. He knew each one of them by heart, but he hadn’t seen them in ages. The twist of their lips, the wrinkles on their faces, the minor details that made each one of them uniquely them were fading in his memory. As he was painting, he realized he couldn’t trust himself to recreate them, and so he didn’t.

“Edward, we are still here with you. You’ll get home and can see us again,” Winry reassured him. He knew she was right, but when he did eventually get them home, there still would be some souls who did not return with them. He forced down his worries and forced a small smile back on his face as he turned to his student.

“Eventually,” he breathed as sympathy and compassion swirled through his chest from the stone. He let the kid drink his glass of water before ushering off. He watched the kid leave with a bright smile on his face, while his own was disappearing fast. When Neville was gone, Edward sank back onto the bench feeling a great deal heavier than before.

“Brother,” Alphonse said softly.

“I think I better work on my landscapes for now,” he admitted sadly. A rough gloved hand patted him sympathetically on the back and together he and his brother packed away their paints for another day.

……….

Classes just released for the day and Edward sat at his desk to finish up grading some of the kid’s assignments. He was teaching them how to draw circles and had given them a simple assignment to practice. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone forgot what a circle was. Each one of them was distorted and those that looked relatively even had big ink splotches in the middle of the parchment. If he could get them to draw a single array by the end of the year it would be a miracle.

“They’re going to blow themselves up if they try using any of these,” Edward muttered as he flipped further through the pages in hopes of spotting a single good one.

“They could try tracing something,” Alphonse suggested from the stone.

“Yeah, and what are they going to do? Carry around a stencil wherever they go?” he retorted sarcastically. He got up from his desk and went around the room to collect some of the pages that the kids left at the tables. All of the doodles looked to be of the same quality. As he was tapping out the stack of parchment on the desk, he felt an odd presence in the room with him. It felt like someone was there. Edward looked up and around his classroom, but the door was shut and no one was there.

“What is it?” Alphonse asked curiously. Edward gave the room one more tentative glare before trying to continue what he was doing.

“I… I don’t know,” he replied hesitantly. He moved to the next row of tables and the feeling only grew stronger. It felt like some unseen force was pulling him closer. It was a horrifically familiar feeling making him freeze in his tracks despite being unable to place it. He looked around the room once again and spotted a black journal that he didn’t recognize. It looked to be an old beat up notebook that one of the students probably left behind. As he took a step closer, the feeling only grew stronger. It wrapped up in his chest and it felt like he could barely breathe. Then it hit him what the sensation was. It felt like when Father had constructed the philosopher’s stone. It was the pulling of a soul.

“That… that shouldn’t be right,” Edward found himself whispering to the souls in the stone, not daring to take his eyes off the journal.

“You could be having a flashback. You have been having them a lot recently with all this stress,” his brother suggested. His brother was right. He had been having a lot of trouble with the stress of the holidays and school yet again. He had been waking up feeling the mask on him and becoming startled with any exceptionally loud noises. It wasn't unreasonable that he would be having another one. Yet, he didn’t know if this was one of them.

He hesitated but reached out to pick up the journal. However, before he could touch it, the journal was snatched away. Startled, he looked up to see a familiar young red-headed girl from his first-year class. It was a Weasley, Ginny. She looked frantic like she had just run up several steps to recover her lost book.

“Hey,” Edward started to ask her a question but she didn’t wait around for long before she bolted out the door. He chased after her but by the time he got to the door of his classroom, she had disappeared. He looked up and down the hallway but there was no sign of her. He rubbed the back of his neck, disturbed as he felt the weird feeling dissipate with the absence of the journal.

“What do you think that was about?” Alphonse asked curiously as Edward tried to regain himself and picked his stack of parchment back up.

“I don’t know,” he admitted cautiously. The whole thing was weird, but he just couldn’t place it. Maybe he really was just associating his sensory flashbacks. There was no way a raggedy old journal could have made him feel like that. Yet, she had looked so terrified that he had found it.

“It was probably her diary,” Mustang reasoned. “With some of the thoughts going through your head, I would be scared too if anyone found out.”

“Hey!” he snapped only to hear a chuckle of amusement from the rest of the stone. It made sense and Edward found his worries being put at ease as Mustang teased him. They were probably right. It was a silly girl with a silly journal. It wasn’t the end of the world.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 36

A Bad Distraction

Over the next few weeks, the school fell into a tired silence. With the lull in attacks, the students’ initial fear of being petrified had subsided but trepidation had replaced it. Everyone yearned for school life to go back to normal. They all wanted to be at ease, but no one wanted to let their guard down in case they were next. It had created what Edward would define as a gloomy and exhausted atmosphere, one only emphasized by the cold greying clouds of February.

 That morning, Edward wandered tiredly through Great Hall for breakfast. Just like the student body, he felt drained. The nervous chatter of students bounced plainly off his ears, and only continued when he got up to the High Table. Minerva and Pomona were talking quietly to each other about something Edward didn’t have enough energy to follow. He set the books he was carrying down and gathered himself a plate of food to warm his stomach and his soul.

“Good morning, Edward,” Pomona said cheerfully. Edward tried to respond but his words were carried away with a yawn. “Oh, you look very tired. Are you sleeping well enough?”

“If you need more sleep draught, I am sure Severus can make you another batch,” Minerva suggested.

“No, it’s my fault. I lost track of time researching and didn’t get enough sleep,” he sighed tiredly. “Not that it mattered. Still got nothing to show for it.” He had spent nearly every waking moment looking for a way home and it was dead end after dead end. Despite his apprentice’s theories on magic and alchemy, Edward felt like he was getting no closer to uncovering the Truth than he was when he first got to Hogwarts back in 994AD. In fact, some days he spent in the library made it feel like he was getting farther away.

“You know how it is,” Winry said reassuringly. “It takes time. You’ll find the answers eventually.” Edward was grateful for her words and did his best to find some peace in them.

“I am sure you will figure it out in due time,” Pomona said, unknowingly echoing Winry’s unheard words.

“If there’s anything we can do to help just let us know. We might not know anything about alchemy but we still know a thing or two,” Minerva offered.

“I think now I just need a distraction,” he admitted. “I have been staring at these pages all night, they are starting to blend together.”

“Did I hear distraction?” Edward heard the way too chipper voice of Gilderoy cheer. He groaned tiredly and glared up at the man who was flaunting down the High Table towards them in overly obnoxious yellow robes. “That is exactly what I am trying to do! Make a distraction.”

“Your robes are distracting enough,” Edward gritted out only to receive a light slap on the back.

“Good one, Edward!” Gilderoy chuckled nervously after Edward sent him a blood curdling glare. He cleared his throat and continued. “The students seem to be really bummed out recently and it is about time they needed a distraction from all this chamber nonsense. I am trying to figure out a type of celebration to put on that could lift their spirits and boost their morale. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I just cannot figure out a winning idea.” Edward was about to yell at Gildroy to hit the road but froze as he thought about it.

“That’s.... actually not a bad idea,” he muttered in shock as he agreed with the ludicrous man for once. Just like him, the students needed a distraction. They needed something to pick them up.  Both Minerva and Pomona, hearing their coworker’s idea, nodded their heads in agreement. They all needed a distraction.

The three of them started to toss ideas around from complex festivals to simple game nights when Edward felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked over to see Ronald Weasley standing there with an opened letter in his hand.

“Professor,” he said in a nervously apologetic tone. “I have a letter for you. It came with some spellotape my father sent me and I thought it was mine. Sorry I opened it.”

“Uh thanks,” he replied as he took the mangled letter. He was not expecting to have mail. However, he was grateful. He and Arthur had been sending letters back and forth ever since their encounter in Diagon Alley. It was about time for another update. “How’s Granger doing?” he asked the kid as he pulled the letter out to read.

“She’s out of the hospital ward and is doing okay. She wanted to thank you for sending her so much homework,” the kid commented with a lick of disgust at the idea. It made Edward chuckle lightly.

“There’s more where that came from,” he teased making the red head groan.

“Ugh, I bet she would be excited to hear that. Well, sorry again Professor for opening your letter. But... Happy Birthday,” the kid said to quickly excuse himself from the faculty table. The smile on Edward’s face quickly dropped as he heard the kid’s send off. He looked down at the letter in his hand and saw that it was a Birthday greeting from Arthur.

Edward,

Happy 94^th/1017^th Birthday! I apologize if this is intrusion but I remembered your birthday was February 3^rd from the office, though the birthyear is a little confusing. I just wanted to wish you the best for another year to come!

Respectfully,

Arthur Weasley

Edward dropped the letter to the table as he felt the wind rush out of him. In the chaos of the year, he nearly forgot, and he deeply wished he did. Overhearing their conversation, the other faculty began to wish him a Happy Birthday as well.

“Please, don’t,” he said stiffly as Pomona and Minerva discussed setting up a small get together in his favor. They looked shocked at his curtness.

“But...why?” Pomona asked hesitantly. To most a birthday was something fun to celebrate a friend being there and progressing through life’s years. It was quite uncommon for someone to be so ardently against their own birthday. Edward, though, had his reasons.

“The best thing you can do for my birthday is forget it ever happened. It’s just another day,” he said and grabbed his books as he stood up to leave as the students and other faculty were already making their way towards their first classes. Minerva stood up to follow him, but he shook his head.

 “I really do not want to talk about this. Just let it go,” he warned her gently. He slowly started to march off towards his classroom. The books in his hands felt even heavier than when he had come in that morning. Now, in the face of another year, it really did feel like the idea of home was getting further away every day.

......................

Edward slumped through his morning classes. He did his best to keep up with the students but he found himself taking more and more breaks. His lack of sleep mixed with his general disdain for his birthday was making him utterly miserable. Eventually, succumbing to his exhaustion, he just had the students practice drawing circles for the class as he poked and prodded at his own research notes. They all just seemed to blur together, nonsense that was getting them nowhere. It only made him more frustrated.

“I know what you are thinking about but don’t push yourself,” Hohenheim scolded him. “Paint doesn’t dry faster when it’s watched. We understand. We can wait.”

“At least paint dries,” Edward muttered sourly. A swirl of comfort lifted from the stone as the souls tried to reaffirm Hohenheim’s words. He did his best to accept them but he couldn’t help the bitter taste of failure bubble over.

A yawn escaped his mouth and Edward looked up from his desk as he did his best to stifle it. His students were gathered in the corner of the classroom looking at something on someone’s desk. He would have hoped that they were having intricate discussions on one of their circles, but he knew them better than that. He tiredly stood up and walked over to see what the matter was. However, he barely got two steps before he was spun around by two annoying pairs of hands.

“Professor, we heard that it was a special something today,” Fred said with a smirk.

“A special someone’s birthday that is,” George added on.

“Get off me,” Edward growled and unhooked himself from their grasp. “What the hell are you even doing here? You aren’t in my class- any of my classes to be exact!” The two twins shrugged.

“We just wanted to wish you a happy birthday before all the riff raff get all the fun,” George defended.

“How do you know it’s my birthday?”

“We got our sources.”

“Your father?”

“Trade secret,” Fred smirked.

“Yeah? Well, I would appreciate it if you kept this trade secret to yourself. I don’t want-“

“Ah well look at the time, class is beyond over. In fact, your students already skipped town,” George cut off.

“What!?” Edward exclaimed as he spun around to see a stack of complete circles on the front desk but an otherwise empty classroom. His students had left during the Weasley twin’s charade. They were right that by the clock his class was over, but he still had their homework to give them. He cursed as he massaged his brow in frustration. This day couldn’t get any worse, can it?

“Be careful what you ask for, brother.”

“Ha, ha,” Edward mocked sourly before he turned back to the twins. “What did you two want?”

“Oh, nothing, we were just a distraction is all,” one of them answered honestly.

“What?” he seethed.

“Yeah, we snuck out of Arithmancy and just wanted to get to the Great Hall early for some food but Professor Lockhart asked us to annoy you for a bit,” the other added. Edward groaned as he tried to massage his now roaring headache out of his head. The twins might be devils but at least they were honest. Unfortunately, Gilderoy was up to his bullshit again. If he could die, he believed Gilderoy would still be pestering his gravestone.

“Did he pay you to do this, or do you just like to taunt me too?” Edward asked. The twins looked at each other and shrugged.

“Both.” Edward rolled his eyes tiredly and trudged back to his desk just to collapse back into his chair. The twins, unfortunately, followed him.

“Aren’t you going to lunch?” George asked.

“I wasn’t planning on it. Got a lot of work to do,” he replied only after a hefty yawn.

“You look like crap,” Fred commented only to cut himself off when Edward sent him a glare.

“Like I said, I got a lot of work to do,” he retorted again. “What, pray tell, did Lockhart want you to distract me for?”

“We can’t say.”

“We just had to distract you till you got to lunch,” George answered honestly. “And, if I can say, you look like you need it. Food might make you feel better.” Edward looked back at the ceiling with an exhausted sigh. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. He just wanted to finish his grading and then crawl into bed to sleep the day away. It looked like that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

“Is there anyway I could pay you to go away?” he begged in a last ditch effort for some peace but the twins shook their heads.

“Our rates are far too high.”

“I am possibly the richest man in the world and the cause of the British economic Panic of 1825. I think I can afford it,” he challenged.

“We thought you gave all your money away,” George commented and Edward cursed. Of course they heard of that. They went to Egypt with their parents. With another heavy sigh he forced himself to his feet and grabbed his cloak off the back of his chair. The sooner he got lunch the sooner he could get back.

“Maybe keep a better watch on the time when doing late night research,” Winry teasingly scolded him, but he didn’t feel like he could put up with their normal banter. He didn’t trust himself to say anything nice at the moment. Whatever he said next, he was sure to be apologizing for. The stone sensed his sour mood and the usually commentary quieted down.

The twins talked cheerily to each other, but Edward didn’t pay their conversation much heed as they slowly walked through the halls of the castle towards the Great Hall. All the other students were quickly running past them. Their whispers and giggles caught his wandering attention. Edward looked up from his wallows to see students giving him quick glances. An uncomfortable feeling settled around him and he didn’t like it.

“Professor?” Fred asked and Edward was shocked back to his senses.

“What?” he said as he stumbled to center his attention again.

“We asked where you got your cape. It looks cool,” George said. They were obviously trying to carry a conversation. Unfortunately, until then it was fairly one sided. Edward tiredly massaged his face and tried to reel himself back into focus.

“Yeah, uh, it was an old blanket I was given from King Arthur for traveling. It was the only thing I had at the time, so I transmuted it into a cloak,” he answered honestly. When Arthur sent him to Hogwarts, he didn’t equip him with much to fight off the English winters. He had to make do with the simple clothes and pile of blankets that he was given as an afterthought. The wool from the blanket was seasoned and waterproof. With the hundreds of warming spells Merlin had placed on it over the years it was now permanently weather resistant. He had been repairing it all these years because he couldn’t imagine anything better to help him fight off the poor weather.

“King Arthur? Wow, you are old. That could be in a museum,” Fred mused.  

“Don’t remind me,” he deadpanned in response.

“Do you have an entire savings account just to get your birthday candles every year?” George joked lightly. It was a good one, but Edward didn’t value it now.

“I would honestly greatly appreciate it if you didn’t spread word about my birthday. It isn’t something I want to remember.” The twins stopped and glanced at each other nervously outside the doors of the Great Hall.

“Uh, it might be a little late for that,” George muttered. Edward frowned.

“Who did you tell?” His stomach tightened. He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“We didn’t tell anyone. I think the entire school just found out somehow.”

“The entire school?!”

“Yeah. We heard it from Justin who heard it from Cho who heard it from Patty who heard it from-“ Before they could finish, the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open by a bedazzled Gilderoy Lockhart. Music and confetti streamed out through the doors. Edward was instantly assaulted by loud ear-piercing cries.  

“Happy Birthday!” A hundred students cried. Edward froze in his tracks as he looked out at a sea of candles each lit and stuffed into pastries scattered across the tables. A thousand and seventeen flames flickered around the room. Each year passed by with barely a thought in his mind. He was living, getting by. There was no time to sit back and count each year that passed. But these candles were a slap to the face. They individually counted the years he was stuck there, the years he had to endure. Each one was a taunting reminder of his failure to get his friends home. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. The air in his chest got stuck and he felt himself unable to breathe.

“Edward-“ he heard his father try to talk to him but his words we drowned out by an obnoxious cheer next to him.

“Happy Birthday, Edward!” exclaimed Gilderoy who was dressed in glittery confetti robes. “What better way to spend a day than celebrating our own teacher! I do believe that they went overboard with the candles though. A thousand and seventeen! Any more years on these cakes and it would be a fire hazard!“ As the man tried to rest his hand on his shoulder Edward found himself reeling back from his touch. His breaths started to overlap as the shock was becoming too much for him to handle.

“Professor-“ the twins who wore a look of regret on their faces tried to reach out to help him but Edward did the only thing he knew he could at that moment. He ran.

…..

“Edward, slow down.” Edward’s feet slowed to a slow crawl as he found himself in an abandoned corner of the Ravenclaw tower all the way across the castle. The sudden shock and panic swirled around him and he desperately sucked in heavy breaths to help calm his nerves. He felt like he was on fire from all of the burning candles in the hall. There was so many of them. So many years-

“Edward,” he heard his father scold him lightly again. Edward covered his mouth with his hand as he forced himself to breathe through his nose. He needed to ground himself. He took a few deep breaths and counted them in his head, his heart slowing with each one. Now that his heart no longer rang in his ears, he could hear the concerned voices from the soul call out to him through his confusion and his panic.

“Despite knowing how old you are, it can still be a shock,” Hohenheim said softly as he too knew the length some years can have.

“This isn’t about age and you know it,” Edward hissed back. Suddenly, he felt a cool dead air behind him and he cursed his luck. He really thought he would be alone. “What? What?! What do you want, Helena? Do you want to wish me a happy birthday too?” he snapped as he turned around to see the unaltered ghostly form of the founder’s daughter behind him. She was holding a ghostly book as it seemed that Edward had absentmindedly walked into one of her old hiding spots. Unlike the other ghosts at the castle, Helena was a very private person. She enjoyed observing the world through studying it though she spent most of her time in the more secluded parts of the castle. When she was a little girl, he remembered having to hunt her down when her mother needed her. She had several hiding spots, all of which Edward knew, where she would go to get away from the noise of the castle. Sometimes when he found her, he would join her to read, but that was when they were on better terms, when her mother was still alive.

“No, though I am sure it wouldn’t be a happy birthday as you appear to be upset,” she countered curiously.

“Good job figuring that one out,” he huffed as his breathing hitched. He sucked in another sharp breath and forced it out through his gritted teeth. “Why do you care that I am upset? Don’t you have some other person to torture?” Helena smirked slightly at his jab.

“If I remember correctly it, was you who disrupted my reading,” she said smartly. “I was just reading to distract myself from my death day and here you come storming in complaining about your tenth lifetime.” Edward pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation. One of the facts that Edward forgot was that Helena died on his birthday. She was murdered, far too young, on one cold winter in Albania away from her family and with no one but her murderer to care for her. Unlike many ghosts who celebrated their death day as a part of life’s transition, she obviously was not fond of the fact that she was dead. That must have been the reason why she was there haunting him rather than on the other side. Now, while Edward was complaining about his birthday, Helena was upset about her death day.

“I didn’t ask for a birthday. Definitely not a thousand of them,” he seethed back.

“And I surely didn’t ask to die, but here we are,” she retorted stiffly.

“You don’t get it!” Edward roared in despair. “The only reason why anyone can celebrate my birthday at all is because I am still here! I shouldn’t be here! I should be home back in Amestris with what is left of my friends and family. Instead, I have another year go by and I am nowhere closer to getting to where I should be!’

“Everyone says it just takes time. Yet, I have had a thousand years, now a thousand and one, to find a way back and I have failed!” he exclaimed. “Every bloody birthday, every fucking candle is a reminder of that. How many more will it take till I get home?! I don’t think I can do this for a thousand more. I want this to be my last birthday. I need this to be my last one!”  Helena stared at him, shocked from his sudden outburst. While she was always one for an argument, it seemed she wasn’t suspecting him to actually tell her his woes. He was consumed by so many emotions he couldn’t keep track of them all. Despair, grief, anger, they swirled around him and it felt like he was lost in a sea of confusion.

“Edward, it will be okay. We can wait-“ Winry tried to comfort but Edward wouldn’t have it.

“I don’t know how you aren’t all upset!” he scolded the people in the stone. “You have been stuck there for years all because I failed to get you home! We should all be back home by now but we are all stuck here!” A wave of retaliation came from the stone as the thousands of souls sent reassuring words towards him. The noise made Edward cover his ears in aggravation. He didn’t want to hear it then. Just as Edward was going to argue against their faith, he heard a sad chuckle from Helena. He looked up to see a faint sheen on her ghostly form. Sadness ebbed out through the cracks in her pride. His eyes widened as he saw it. Helena was admitting regret.

“There just is no winning, is there?” she smiled sadly. “I had yelled at you earlier in the year for wanting something you couldn’t have. It seems, Paracelsus, I must apologize as I too am wanting.” There the two of them stood where opposites meet, both wanting what they couldn’t have. One wished for life but was cursed with death. The other wished for life’s end but was cursed with eternity.

Edward lowered his hands from his ears and the reassuring words from the stone soaked into him. While he was upset that it had been so long with no success, there was one reassuring truth. He had time to figure things out. They could wait. Others weren’t so lucky. He looked down at the ground in remorse as Helena did the same as they regretted lamenting what the other wanted.

“What is it like?” Edward eventually found himself asking her. Helena looked up, curious as it seemed no one ever asked her that before.

“To die?” she asked and he nodded his head. She thought for a moment as she never liked to give an incomplete answer. “Cold, mostly. Frightening, lonely. I don’t think one fully understands it until it has happened. By then it is too late to prepare.” Edward nodded his head acceptingly. It wasn’t a detailed answer but it also wasn’t a topic to be put into words.

“And what about living with the stone?” Helena asked in return.

“Pretty much the same,” he smiled weakly. They sat down on the stone bench in the corner of the tower and talked. An ease fell over them, something they hadn’t felt in each other’s presence in a millennium. As they spoke, each came to terms with their current inflictions. Edward had once considered them different, but it seemed that their differences were more similar than one could think.

Hours went by and they both found themselves departing a little more at peace. Edward walked down from the tower, a small smile on his face and quite the different perspective than the one he entered with. A yawn escaped his lips and the exhaustion of the day came over him. The lack of sleep the previous night in his studies along with the torment of that day hung on him.

“We know you want to get home but please rest, Edward. You can find a way home in the morning,” Winry whispered calmly. He accepted her comfort now with the reassurance that he still had time to make things right.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

Chapter 37

The Search for a Scapegoat

“Ger over ‘ere!” Hagrid’s aggravated voice growled as he hobbled his large form after a small threstral colt. Despite being sick, the nimble creature outran all of the half giant’s attempts to capture it. Edward sat on the broken fence and watched his friend try to tackle to poor thing to give it its medicine. The fence was along the edge of the Forbidden Forest and was there more for formality rather than to keep the threstrals in.  

“How did Hogwarts get Threstrals anyways? I thought they were restricted,” Edward asked curiously as he pet one of the mares next to him. He didn’t know if the creature liked his presence or if it was because it was trying to eat the breakfast sausage off his plate, but threstrals were one magical creature who didn’t mind the stone. In fact, most threstrals he interacted with were almost attracted to him, something that Rubeus noted when they swarmed him at the gate.

“Yeah, I guess they are but Dumbledore gotta permit ter allow me ter breed ‘em. Star’ed off with jus’ five of em, but now we gotta nice herd going. Use ‘em ter pull carriages fer the school.”

“How do the students react to that?” Edward remembered the first time he saw a threstral. They definitely were a unique sight that some might associate with a haunting or death. They did grow on him though as underneath their boney and nearly dead figure was a rather loyal and gentle creature. Rubeus shrugged as he tried once more to get a hold of the colt but it slapped him with a large skin tight wing and trotted away. In defeat, the giant rejoined Edward at the fence to reevaluate his approach.

“Why’re yer eatin’ breakfast down ‘ere? Aren’ yer cold?” Hagrid asked as he picked up his own plate to take a bite just to see that it was licked clean. He sent a glare at the threstral next to him, and it simply chirped one of its eerie calls before prancing away. After a short laugh, Edward gave him his own plate.

“Gilderoy decided to celebrate St. Valentine’s day. I really didn’t want to stare at dwarves in diapers handing out valentine cards before I had my morning tea,” he said. After the fiasco that was his birthday, it seemed that Gilderoy still wanted to put something on to cheer up the students. Edward’s party apparently didn’t hold much traction after he left, and so he understood the reasons for a make-up celebration. While he was still fighting off his lingering feelings of doubt, he did have to say he was feeling much better in the presence of the half giant.

“Not expectin a valentine? Don’ got anyone yer fancy?” Rubeus asked curiously.

“I, uh, got someone…,” Edward blushed lightly as he thought about it.

“Yeah? Who is the lucky one? Aren’ yer gonna write ‘er a card?” the man pried.

“She’s more of a gear head and I’m not much of a poet,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t be here without her.”

“That’s a mighty big deal then fer someone who’s immortal.”

“Yeah, she is,” Edward said with a fond smile. Underneath the teasing from his brother and the rest of his unit placing bets under the table, he felt the stone warm up as a particular soul inside of him blushed in embarrassment. The tickling warm sent a small chuckle from his lips as he enjoyed her presence.

“I remember love like that when I was in school. I have ter admi’ though. It’s hard ter find a lady me size, ‘specially one who appreciates creatures more than I do,” Rubeus said. “Maybe then I could get this threstral wrangled.”

“Can’t you just use magic to rope it? There are plenty of spells.” While Edward was not one to take the easy way out with magic, if Hagrid was having such trouble catching the colt, he wondered why he didn’t pull out his wand sooner. The giant frowned slightly, embarrassed by the question.

“I, er, ain’ got magic,” Rubeus admitted. Edward looked up in surprise. While he had never seen Rubeus cast a single spell, he simply thought that the man was more conserved in his use of magic.

“Really?” Edward asked. “Well, in that case I am even more impressed. You hold this entire school together without a wave of a wand. That takes skill, something many wizards don’t have these days.” Rubeus seemed to lighten up that Edward wasn’t pressing into the subject anymore. A small smile returned to his face at the compliment.

“I got a couple o’ tricks up me sleeve. ‘nfortunately, one of ‘em ain’ threstral wrangling.” Edward looked out to where the sick colt was hobbling around. It was a slippery young thing, and he didn’t think chasing it around the paddock was going to help.

“Come on,” Edward deeply sighed as he hopped down from where he was perched on the fence and stretched out. “If we are going to do this without magic, I might as well show you a few tricks.”

Rubeus’ curiosity peaked and the giant watched him carefully as Edward alchemically constructed a few lengths of rope and tied it into a lasso. He gently patted one of the mares next to him which seemed comfortable in his presence, then mounted it. The threstral shifted under his weight, but did not fight him. After situating the rope in his hand, he lightly kicked the sides of the mare, and they bolted across the paddock towards the colt. The young threstral stumbled to get away but Edward brought the mare around to flank it and with one toss, easily roped the colt. Realizing it was caught; the colt reluctantly was tugged back over to the half giant. He handed the rope to Rubeus and slid off the mare.

“How ‘bout that?” Rubeus said in amazement. “Yer ride that threstral like a natural. Yer ever fly one before?”

“Uh, not big on having my feet leave the ground,” Edward admitted. “I have been riding horses though for nearly a millennium so I got a lot of practice.”

“Scared of heights then?” Rubeus asked as he pulled out a syringe of thick paste out of his pocket.

“No. Just never had good time flying. I fell off a broom too many times to try again and I also had a parachuting accident so horrific they made a song about it. I don’t think flying is for me,” Edward admitted. He never willingly got on a plane and only did so out of absolute necessity. He caught himself misidentified as a 101^st trooper in the second world war which led to him being shoved out of an airplane and careening to the ground from 1000ft. They wrote a song about him and Edward couldn’t feel more embarrassed that his death was now just as immortalized just as he was.

With the syringe in hand, Rubeus gently grabbed the colt’s mouth and deposited the contents in the far back of its throat. The small threstral whined at the taste but magically the dark color returned to the colt’s mane as Edward realized it was a healing potion. Rubeus took the lasso off and gave the threstral a light tap on the rear and it scampered off.

“Though yer migh’ not fly em, yer wouldn’ be a bad threstral keeper with that ropin trick o’ yers,” Rubeus said as he handed the length of lasso back to Edward.

 “It’s nothing new. To be honest, I am surprised that no one’s taught you this before since you spend a lot of time with these creatures.” Rubeus shrugged.

“Self-taught fer the most par’. When it comes ter the threstrals, I usually earn their trust or lure ‘em in through food. They love bloody sausage. Only the young ones give me trouble ‘cause they don’ trust me yet.” Edward was amazed at Rubeus’ ability to handle magical creatures without the usual wrangling methods. It was almost like Rubeus imagined all creatures to be friends rather than beasts to be tamed. He reminded him of his friend Newt and he respected that a lot.

As Edward taught the giant how to toss a lasso, an owl perched on the fence with two letters in its beak. Curiously, Edward took the letters and saw that one was addressed to each one of them from the headmaster.

Emergency faculty meeting in the Rear Hall. Come as soon as you are able.

-Albus Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

“What do you think this is about?” Edward asked. While an emergency meeting was understandable given the circumstances of that year, there hadn’t been an attack in a couple months. It seemed the entire school wanted to believe that it was over. This meeting made Edward fear that something had happened again.

“I don’ know but it must be serious if Albus is orderin’ it,” Rubeus noted. The two of them cleaned up their things and closed the fence to the pasture before making their way back up to the castle. Despite it being a school day, it seemed that Albus didn’t mind a few of the teachers missing their morning classes. Students waited outside of locked classrooms wondering where their teachers were going so early in the morning. Edward had to agree with Rubeus, this had to be serious.

A crowd of faculty were entering the Rear Hall. Edward was surprised to see even some of the school’s recluses like Trelawney there. The faculty were coming out of the stonework at the headmaster’s call. Albus stood at the entrance of the hall simultaneously greeting the faculty as he talked to a well fed and well-dressed man that Edward did not recognize. He was large and extremely sweaty as he was obviously anxious about whatever they were meeting about. Albus looked rather annoyed at the man’s nervous chatter, but still held his hospitable false smile.

“Oh, young man!” the fat man chuckled as Edward moved to follow Hagrid into the hall. “I love your enthusiasm, but this is a meeting for faculty. Maybe when you’re older you can be a teacher yourself and-“

“Quit talking before you embarrass yourself,” Edward stated bluntly, unamused by the nervous man’s stammer.  The man looked very taken back but before he could recover, Edward pushed past him and into the hall. He caught Albus out of the corner of his eye try to calm the flabbergasted man down.

“You know that was the minister, right?” Severus asked as he joined the two of them in the back of the crowd of growing teachers. He also looked annoyed to be there. It seemed that no one wanted this emergency meeting.

“That’s the minister?” Edward asked unamused. “He looks like he’s about to pass out from heat stroke in the middle of winter. He’s a nervous wreck!”

“This meeting must be serious,” Severus noted. Edward rolled his eyes.

“Well if it’s serious, he better start acting like a minister and not a blubbering sweaty child.” That earned a laugh from both Severus and Rubeus as it seemed many of the faculty had the same impression of the man. However, Edward noticed that Rubeus seemed stiffer than when they were talking just moments ago. His chuckle was half hearted and a sense of worry fell over the man. Edward frowned as he saw the change in demeanor but before he could ask him, Albus’s voice rang across the hall.

“I apologize for the impromptu meeting, but I thought it best to address you all together,” the headmaster said calmly. “Due to the recent events in the castle, there is demand to find answers. I am sure that all of you agree that the mystery surrounding the chamber needs to be solved. The ministry is here to do as such.” A mummur rose over the crowd of teachers. They hadn’t had an attack in months yet none of them were foolish enough to think the legend was over. Edward agreed with wanting an investigation, but he didn’t understand why they were investigating the faculty. All of them had agreed that none of them possessed the ability nor motivation to conduct such acts.

“They aren’t investigating,” Severus muttered as he seemed to read the confusion on Edward’s face. “They are targeting a scapegoat.”

“I, er, gotta go. Lef’ the kettle on,” Rubeus stumbled suddenly and quickly left before Edward could voice his worry. He went to go follow the giant to see if he was alright, but Severus rested his hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“It is none of your concern,” he said.

“Now, there is nothing to worry about. We are not here to accuse anyone. We are just doing our due diligence,” the Minister tried to reassure but failed miserably. “Don’t be alarmed if you see us around the hallways or in your classrooms. The ministry has a team of crack investigators who are sure to get to the bottom of this. You will barely know we are there.”  

The meeting ended with Dumbledore giving some more reassurances that everything would be alright. However, the faculty left the meeting uneasy. Little did any of them know, despite the promise of being unnoticeable, they would all be woefully aware of the ministry’s presence in the castle.

……

The investigations went on for weeks as the ministry took their time to search every faculty member thoroughly. Edward heard stories spread around the High table during meal times and it only made him more anxious. He heard about the ministry searching through and breaking several of Trelawny’s crystal balls. They were even interrogating Minerva about her late husband to the point that Pomona said she became inconsolable. The investigators were tearing through the school with barely a care as to who was left with the consequences.

“They just need to find something!” Filius cried in aggravation. “They are never going to leave until they find something even if there is nothing to be found.” Everyone feared that they would be the next to be interrogated. Even worse, they feared that they would be the person to be accused. As all the teachers tried to comfort each other through the trials, there was one person that Edward just couldn’t find.

Ever since the announcement of the interrogations, Rubeus has been doing his best to avoid everyone in the castle. Edward had gone down to his hut on several occasions to try and see if he was alright, but the hut was locked up tight. He had caught other teachers try and talk to the giant but they were met with the same shut door. One day when Edward was leaving the Entrance Hall to check on Rubeus again, he was stopped by Albus.

“Rubeus will be alright. He just needs some space. This is hitting a little too close for comfort for him,” Albus reassured him. While Edward did not like Albus, he knew that Rubeus was good friends with him. If the headmaster could not get through to the giant, Edward didn’t think that anyone would. Realizing it was not his place, he stopped and simply hoped that Rubeus would be alright.

A few weeks after the investigations started, Edward stumbled tiredly to his classroom. He had just reassured a frightened crowd of students that they had nothing to worry about after they had all witnessed him tear the investigators a new one in Herbology class. He was just finishing getting some herbal tea mixture from Pomona when the ministry stormed into the class. They tore through all of Pomona’s valuable tea stores and then smashed through half of her pottery, unearthing several plants. Things made a turn for the worse when Edward tried to stop them and only managed to get shoved right into the arms of a Venomous Tentacula. Only once when he was freed from the venomous snare, did he unleash his anger on the ministry members who were quite shocked at the whole endeavor. Apparently, his rage was so loud that students from the castle could hear it. Class was ultimately dismissed, and Edward spent the rest of the period reassuring the students that he was not going to die from the venomous plant and that they were quite safe even in the presence of the brash ministry.

“They are a load of bumbling idiots,” he heard Mustang snide as he walked to his classroom. That, Edward had to agree. They could have easily injured one of the students if they upturned the wrong pot. They had no regard for what they were doing and that was dangerous when they didn’t know what they were messing with. He was just grateful that they hadn’t messed with the mandrakes. Not only could the cry had killed someone, but Pomona was slaving away caring for them all year to make an antidote for the petrified students.

Just as Edward entered his classroom he groaned as he saw the ministry were tearing apart his desk. He guessed that he was their next target. While he knew it would happen sooner or later, he wished the later could have been never.

“Get out,” he ordered the ministry stiffly. They looked up at him with little regard.

“Don’t you worry. We are just doing an investigation of your teacher. We will do our best not to disturb your class,” the one investigator said as he pulled out a drawer and dumped the contents out on the ground.

“I am the teacher you asshat,” he scolded sharply.

“You… You’re Paracelsus? You’re so young!”

“Who are you calling young?! I am a thousand and seventeen years old! I thought your colleagues would have advised you of that after they tossed me into a tentacula!” The investigators flinched at his volume, seemingly to have heard the rumors of his previous interaction with them. “You will stop rooting through my desk until class is over. I will not have you disrupting class or I will give you something else to worry about other than counting how many pens I have!”

“We are just doing our job-“

“Bullshit. The only thing you have done since getting here is terrorize the students and faculty. I swear this is like the Spanish Inquisition all over again!”

“What was that like?”

“No one expected it. Just how you’re not going to expect anything till you find my boot up your ass if you don’t stop meddling with my class!” he roared. The two inspectors paled and instantly dropped the few desk items they were holding. Seeming to get the picture, they backed away and Edward waved his wand and his drawers instantly sorted themselves just as the students were coming in. The students looked warily over at the inspectors as they knew what chaos they could bring. However, Edward was glad to see the students relax a bit when they saw the inspectors minding their own business for once.

After busying himself with the attendance, Edward took an initial glance at the student’s homework that they piled on his desk. They were tasked yet again with drawing and designing transmutation circles. He looked at them, very amused.

“These are really good,” Alphonse said. A small sense of pride bubbled out from the stone. Edward hated to admit it but he felt it too. He was pleasantly surprised at the progress they made. Though they weren’t the most pristine circles, Edward could have admitted that he would easily use them in a pinch.

“These are good,” he mused to the class. “I think we are ready to do the next step.” His students all perked up at his announcement. They had been drawing circles forever now. He knew that they were desperate for a change.

“What is the next step, professor?” Harry asked curiously as Edward grabbed the stack of transmutation circles and a piece of chalk.

“To use them obviously.” Edward walked to the front of the class and motioned them to gather around and push some desks out of the way. The students scrambled out of their seats like they were starved for knowledge. Their curiosity was peaked.

“Now, as I do this, I don’t need to remind you that if you do alchemy it should only ever be in the presence of myself or one of my suits of armor, is that clear? A rebound can make you lose a limb or two on a good day. It would more likely than not take your life. I don’t want to go to your funeral because you mixed up the symbol for air with fire.” All the students replied with ‘yessir’ as they watched him etch out a chalk circle on the ground.

“Is that how you lost your arm, professor?” another student asked.

“Yes. And let me tell you, it’s not an enjoyable experience.”

“But, professor, if you’re immortal, why doesn’t your arm just regenerate too?” Malfoy asked.

“I lost my limbs before I got the stone. Not only that but some mistakes are permanent. Do the wrong thing and even magic can’t fix it. Understand?” There was another round of confirmation. Edward finished his circle and sat back, pointing down at it to draw his students’ attention.

“What type of circle is this?” he asked.

“Morphing the shape of stone,” Neville answered.

“Correct! And that is exactly what your task is to do.” Edward flipped through the stack of homework and pulled out one submission. “Neville, you are going first because you had the best circles by far on the last assignment.” Edward held the parchment up to the class and pointed out a few key things that others had missed in their writing. Some of the students took feverish notes. Others whined about how difficult drawing was. Neville, on the other hand, looked scared.

“Professor, are you sure?”

“Of course. Just let me show you how it’s done,” Edward said. “Now, the circle, as you know, amplifies and focuses the tectonic energy from the earth. To use the circle, you must not only concentrate on what you want to make, but you also must activate the transmutation circle and know how you want that energy to shift the elements you are working with. This all together can be thought of as our three main phases: comprehension, deconstruction and reconstruction. Basically, know what you have, break it up into parts, then reassemble them how you want them to be.”

“That doesn’t sound too difficult,” someone commented.

“It’s not in concept, but practice is a different beast,” he answered. “Now, for the activation. The easiest way to start is to create your object within the circle you have made. You have the ability to make transmutations near the circle to a certain degree, but that takes more skill to add direction to the energy. To activate a center constructed circle, place your hands around the outside to avoid getting caught, then focus and draw the energy through the circle like so.” He placed his and around the transmutation circle and pressed firmly. The circle lit up with blue alchemical energy and the ground shifted into a small little bird statue. The class awed at the simple transmutation, eager smiles on each of their faces.

“See? Not too crazy. Now let’s get you all doing it.” He returned the floor back to its original position and nudged Neville over to the circle. The students nearby visibly all took a few steps back from the reaction as they seemed to expect it to blow up in their faces. Neville tried to activate the circle but after lighting up, the energy fizzled out without anything happening. A look of defeat crossed the kids face. Edward knelt down next to the kid and pointed out a few corrections in his form. After a couple words of encouragement, Neville activated the circle once more. The light filled the ring and after a few drawn out seconds, there was a warped stone bunny figure in the center of the transmutation circle.

“That’s amazing Neville! That’s better than my first try,” Edward said in awe as he picked up the figure and looked at it. While it was far from pretty, the rock was fully formed from head to toe. The transmutation went through its complete cycle. Rather than being proud, Neville looked at his transmutation in complete shock. It seemed that he wasn’t expecting it to work.

“He said he wasn’t good at magic. Maybe this is his thing,” Alphonse noted. Suddenly, all the other students raised their hands and asked to go next.  

The other students’ transmutations were underwhelming. Some couldn’t activate the circle due to lack of focus or will. Others only were able to reconstruct half a figure before their transmutation went out. One student never reached the reconstruction phase and accidentally blasted a hole right through the floor. He apologized to Flitwick who was in the middle of a first year charms class before closing up the floor once more and allowing the kid to try again. Overall, Edward would say that the class was a success though were a long way from using alchemy casually.

Once the bells chimed the top of the hour, he let the kids go and cleaned up the chalk off the floor. The two ministry workers though, didn’t care to wait.

“Paracelsus-“

“For fucks sake call me Edward Elric,” he groaned.

“We really need to be continuing our investigation of your office. There were several things during your class that we have questions on-“

“Like what? You want to take my class too?” he taunted harshly. The ministry workers looked annoyed at his constant battering but they also held respect for him as one of the more famous wizards alive.

“We heard the students talking about the stone. Do you have it?” one of them asked.

“Of course,” he answered honestly. “I don’t go anywhere without it. Can’t really.”

“Can we see it?” the other asked.

“No,” he replied bluntly.

“For our investigation-“

“I think your investigation is done here,” Edward snapped and turned to leave. The ministry workers though quickly followed to block his way to the door.

“Wait! We are still conducting our investigation-“

“Search my classroom all you want. Count the number of parchment if you have to, but I am not going to stand here and have you interrogate me on subjects you know nothing about. I might be a teacher, but that doesn’t mean I am going to teach halfwits about the secrets of immortality. That topic is going with me to the grave for a good reason.”

“But I thought you couldn’t die-“

“If there is a will, there is a way. You better not make that way include you two coming with me,” he seethed.

“We need to complete our investigations or Lucius Malfoy will have our jobs. He is already upset with how the search is going so far. If we or the team searching your chambers don’t find something it’s going to be a nightmare back at the offices,” one of the investigators complained.

“He’s searching what?” Edward shrieked. He shoved the two ministry workers out of the way and stormed out of his classroom and through the castle. As Edward bounded through the halls of the castle, straggling students watched in terror as he passed, knowing of his prior encounters with the ministry first hand.

His chamber door was wide open and random objects were being tossed out of it. He saw a pile of smashed tea cups and even his record player was sitting in a heap out in the corridor. He rounded the doorway just as another tea cup was being tossed out. He snatched it from the air and chucked it back at the culprit who threw it, rage searing every bone in his body.

“What the fuck are all of you doing?!” he roared. Everyone in his room looked up. The ministry workers paused from where they were tearing apart his kitchen drawers and Lucius looked over unphased.  Edward stormed over and ripped his box of vinyl out of one of their hands. Several were already broken on the floor.

 “These records are first edition! They’re worth thousands!” he scolded them.

“Can’t you simply repair them, Paracelsus? You have alchemy-“ Malfoy yawned tiredly like trashing another person’s home was an every other day occurrence. To him, it probably was.

“That doesn’t repair the sound recordings on it! You better be glad you didn’t touch my books or else I would –“

“You would what? We are conducting a legal investigation here. Nothing more.”

“Legal?! There is nothing legal about this! It’s a… pardon the irony… a witch hunt!” he growled.

“And what would you know of those?” Malfoy mused. Edward glared daggers at him.

“Plenty.”

“Don’t worry your little head. We are almost done. It’s honestly sad. I would have expected more taste from someone ancient like you. All of this is… rather old fashioned.”

“Old-fashioned!!” Edward screeched.

“Sir, this drawer is stuck!” an investigator said.

“Then unlock it, you fool,” Lucius scolded. Edward turned to watch the ministry worker try to cast the unlock charm on the drawer but froze as he realized what they were trying to open. The bottom drawer of his desk was sealed shut alchemically and magically for a reason. That reason was the mask. Edward felt the air get trapped in his lungs as he knew that the ministry workers wouldn’t stop till they had it open.

“The mask is registered with the ministry. They can’t confiscate it,” Roy reasoned as the ministry worker tried to yank the drawer open. It didn’t budge. While he knew that Roy was right, he couldn’t help but imagine that Lucius would find a way to take it anyways. Sensing his change in demeanor, a cruel smirk grew over Malfoy’s face.

“I wonder what an immortal alchemist would keep in a locked drawer if he keeps priceless antiques out in the open,” he mused, obviously knowing he hit the jackpot. Lucius was in the ministry when Edward registered the mask. He very well knew it existed and very much wanted it. He probably would give any excuse to confiscate it. “Paracelsus, since that is your desk and you are apparently particular about your things. Why don’t you open it?”

With a deep breath Edward prayed for a miracle. He clapped his hands and unsealed the drawer for them, taking a step away so that they could open it. The ministry rummaged through it but gasped as they found something that surprised everyone but one person in the room.

“It’s empty!” the investigator stated in confusion. Edward stared in horror as the mask was gone. He had kept it locked up so that no one could use it again. While he hated the mask and wanted anything to be rid of it, knowing where it is was safer than letting it go. Now, the very object that could cage him, could very well be in the hands of the person who would use it next. He had prayed for a miracle but this was a nightmare.

Lucius pushed the worker out of the way and looked at it himself, rage boiling over him. He spun around on Edward who tried is best to mask his own shock.

“Why would you lock a drawer that is empty?” he interrogated him. “Where is it?”

“I got angry at my desk and alchemized it,” Edward tried to shrug off a lie. His voice still faltered with the shock of their discovery but he did his hardest to play it cool despite an ever growing fear inside of him. “Forgot to fix it.”

“Where is it?” the man repeated.

“Where’s what?”

“You know what I am talking about,” he hissed.  

“I am afraid that no one knows what you are talking about. Unless you want to interrogate me about my socks, I think your investigation was useless,” he retorted sharply. Lucius looked like he wanted to bite back but there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t expose the investigation as a personal man hunt. Instead, with a soured look of defeat, he motioned for his workers to evacuate his chambers and left not without tipping over another stack of tea cups on his way out.

Edward watched them leave and once the chamber door was closed he instantly dashed around the place searching every nook and cranny for the mask. It had to be there. It couldn’t have disappeared into thin air! His searching became more frantic the more piles of things he over turned.

“The ministry searched the entire place. If they didn’t find anything, its not here,” Roy reasoned.

“But it has to be here! It couldn’t have disappeared! No one knew I had it except-“ Edward froze as he thought about it. The only person who could have known it was there and had access to his chambers was the very person who had tried to use it before. Anger and fear clashed in his stomach and made him feel sick, but he needed to find out.

 Dropping everything, Edward dashed out of his chambers, leaving the mass of broken antiques for another day. It took him only a few minutes to get to the headmaster’s office. He kicked open the doors to see Albus writing at his desk as if it were any other normal day. He looked up calmly as if he expected him.

“Paracelsus, what a surprise,” he said, very much not surprised in the least. “I heard that you were teaching your students transmutations. How-“

“What did you do with it?” Edward hissed. “I know you took it.”

“Calm down. It is safe,” Albus said, not even denying his accusations.

“Why? Why did you take it? I thought we had a deal that you wouldn’t pull any of this bullshit again! You already tried to use it once. Was that not enough for you?!”

“I apologize for not warning you but it was a very last minute decision. I had removed it for its own safety knowing that the ministry would have uncovered it in their search.” For once, Edward knew that Albus was being honest. He wasn’t playing his usual games and that shocked him.  However, he wouldn’t let himself release his guard as Albus had already tried to use the mask on him. With it in his possession, he didn’t doubt that he would try again should the situation arise.

“Where is it?” Edward growled again. Albus simply stood up and motioned for Edward to follow him. He took him to the corner of the office where a tall mirror laid. Edward recognized it from the beginning of the year. It was where Albus had hid the stone.

“This is the Mirror of Erised. Are you familiar with it?” Albus asked. Edward shook his head. “It is a simple thing really. The mirror shows one’s deepest desires when one looks into it. Here. Give it a go.” The man motioned for Edward to stand in front of it and he shuffled him into the spot. Edward took in a sharp gasp as he stared at what was revealed in the mirror.

Standing in the mirror next to him was his family, friends, and team, all in their own bodies smiling back at him. Even souls that he knew were long gone like Hawkeye were there, happy. It felt like a knife stabbed him in his chest and was being slowly twisted. He turned his back on the mirror to alleviate the pain, tears in his eyes.

“Edward,” he heard his father say softly. While he called the man a bastard, he too was in the enchanted image of the mirror, standing proudly beside him with their mother.

“Fuck,” Edward shivered as he took a couple moments to relieve the emotional torment. The mirror spoke only of true desire and it knew Edward’s to a tee. While some parts of his dream he knew would come true, others like Hawkeye and his mother were simply that, a dream. He had worked for a millennia to return them all back home to their bodies but now seeing what should and could have been made it feel all the farther away.

“Why did you show me that?” he breathed, the pain in his voice all the more evident. “I need to know where the mask is. Not… not… that.” Albus looked genuinely surprised as it seemed he never saw anyone have such a negative reaction towards the mirror like that before. No one should be distraught over seeing their desires. Edward, unfortunately, was. Albus took a second to ponder before he snapped his fingers apparently forgetting something.

“I am sorry. Try again, but think about finding the mask this time,” Albus advised him. Edward glared bitterly at the headmaster but did what he was told. He closed his eyes and turned around, thinking only of the mask in mind. When he opened his eyes, the swarm of people were not there. The only thing reflected was himself, holding out the mask to him. Edward was shocked that his reflection was moving on its own, but he saw himself motion for him to take the mask out of his hands. Hesitantly, he reached out and his hand went through the mirror. He felt his fingers touch the hard metal of the mask and he instantly retreated.

“What was that?”

“Along with seeing your most wanted desires, the mirror is also a safe haven for lost items. When placed inside, only people who want to find the object but not use it can get it. Those who want to use it will only see their desire for the object and nothing more,” Albus clarified. “You can come in and take the mask whenever you want but otherwise this is the safest place for it. No one who is not deliberately searching for the mask can find it. And those who are won’t be able to take it unless they are your friend.”

“How do I know you won’t just move it again?” Edward asked suspiciously. There was nothing that the headmaster did that was that easy. There had to be a catch. Albus shrugged tiredly.

“You don’t have to worry about me taking the mask because unfortunately, I am not able to remove it from the mirror after I had placed it inside,” he admitted. Edward’s eyes widened as he realized what the man had said. “You have nothing to fear.”

“Thank you,” he said after a long moment of thought. While he didn’t fully trust the headmaster after everything that he did to him, he could acknowledge this one selfless act. The mask was safer than it had been in centuries and that lifted a great weight off of Edward’s chest, something that hadn’t been lifted since the day he got to that universe. For that, he was truly grateful. Albus smiled kindly.

“You may take it any time you like or leave it here for all eternity. Whichever you desire,” he said. “It is safe here.” For the very first time, Edward found that he trusted the man’s word. He didn’t have to worry about the mask. For now, it was safe and that was what had mattered.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 38

Hagrid’s Secret

Edward’s head jolted off the table and he felt himself choke on thin air as the smoke of his last nightmare dissipated. He coughed and scrambled to regain his breath, the souls in the stone encouraging him to breathe. He wheezed, eyes watery from what felt like a near death experience and looked around. Books were stacked stories high on shelves which meant only one thing. He had fallen asleep in the library again.

Edward leaned back in his chair and massaged his forehead which was slick in a cold sweat. He sucked in a few deep breaths and let them out slowly, pushing the images of flames from his mind.

“You need to stop sleeping in the library,” his father scolded him. “You always forget to take your draught.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Edward muttered as he pulled out his watch. It was nearing lunch though he knew most of the students wouldn’t be in the dining hall. They were all eagerly excited for the next quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Nothing could clear the castle faster than a quidditch match. Edward thought it was about time for something fun to happen in the castle.

The ministry had caused even more of an uproar within the castle as their investigation didn’t end with him. Their careless nature of their investigation resulted in them provoking a hippogriff during a sixth year class and the poor professor getting his leg chomped off at the ankle. After the professor was sent to the hospital for treatment, the ministry made their hasty escape to ‘review their notes’ on the investigation. While they mourned the departure of one of their cheeriest professors, the faculty and the students were all glad to be rid of the ministry and excited to get back to their normal routines.

“Are you going to go to the match?” his brother asked excitedly. Despite the disaster that was his last quidditch match, it seemed the souls were all eager for some entertainment. Edward on the other hand, was still fighting off his nightmare and bitter mood.

“Al,” he groaned, “I got a lot of work to do.”

“Please?” he begged. The other souls chimed in, turning their simple pleas into a roaring protest. Edward yelped and covered his ears in pain.

“Fine, fine, fine! Just shut up!” he whined, massaging his head out. Now he had another headache ontop of the one he had woken up with. As the souls cheered in victory, Edward drowsily gathered up his books and papers. He started to head towards the circulation desk when he was nearly run over by an excited student.

“Hey, slow down!” he barked at Granger who was eagerly heading towards the section on magical creatures.

“Sorry, Professor! I just need to find something!” she exclaimed without stopping and disappeared amongst the books. Edward rolled his eyes in amusement. At least other people still got as excited about books as he did. He dropped his books of choice off at the circulation desk where Irma begrudgingly checked them out for him.

“That table you were using better still be in one piece. I don’t want any more of your alchemy ruining this library,” she grumbled bitterly.

“No alchemy today, but I did spill a well of ink, tear apart a first edition ‘Augery Ornithology’, and left heaping piles of garbage everywhere,” he smiled cheekily at her. She caught onto his sarcasms and rolled her eyes in a huff. He thanked her and took his books to leave.  

“She is always so hard on you,” his brother noted. “Does she know you translated half the books in here?”

“She’s just protecting the library. If someone messed with my books, I would be furious,” Edward defended. While he had to admit that the librarian was always nagging him about something, he did get his fun out of it and never took it to heart. Someone who loved books liked to care for them and unfortunately many of the students and teachers didn’t treat the library like they should.

Edward got a few minutes into his walk before he looked down at his books and cursed. He searched his pockets and growled in aggravation. He left his good fountain pen. Just as he was about to turn around, he heard a low whispering hiss next to him.

“Hshashlu, hshe!” He froze as the voice was back. It had been months since he last heard that haunting chill and yet now it sounded hungrier than ever. It sounded like it was out to kill. A fear filled him as the voice disappeared around the corner back towards the library. Edward immediately chased after it, his books and research notes forgotten in the hallway. The last time he heard that voice, Nick and a student were petrified. He couldn’t imagine letting that happen again.

The voice was too fast for him and Edward found himself slowing as it had yet again escaped him. His heart hammered in his chest and he cursed in frustration. It was gone and once more he had nothing.

“Do you think you could find it?” Alphonse asked as Edward tried to catch his breath. He looked around the corridor but everything was in place. There was no sign of what he expected was a giant monstrous reptile. There was no way that voice was a snake and yet it sounded exactly like the voices from Slytherin’s lessons.

“Maybe it’s a mimic,” Alphonse suggested. Edward was just about to deny that idea when something shiny caught his eye. He looked closer to see something shining from around the corner of the library annex. As he got closer he could see that it was a small glass mirror. He looked around the corner to see who was holding it but staggered back in shock as he saw the culprits.

Hermione Granger along with another Ravenclaw student who he had seen only moments prior were frozen in place, fear permanently engraved on their faces. They both were peering into the mirror that Hermione was holding up around the corner. Yet again, there was no sign of their attacker.

“No, no, no, no,” Edward wheezed as he whipped out his wand and sent his patronus to get help. The occamy flew out of his wand and consumed the entire hallway as it soared towards the hospital ward. He tried to feel some sort of pulse on either of them, but just like the rest they were petrified through and through. Just when the castle thought they were safe, just when they had all eagerly let their guard down, there was another attack.

“Irma, IRMA!” he roared, trying to get the librarian’s attention. The witch poked her head out from the library’s main doors ready to scold him for being loud but a shriek escaped her own lips as she saw the scene. She ran down the annex and gasped loudly in shock as she saw who was frozen.

“Oh my god,” she cried, the horror bringing tears to her eyes. “What happened?! They had just left! Oh my god, oh my god.” Edward firmly grabbed the woman as she began to panic.

“Irma, listen to me, breathe,” he ordered her firmly, knowing full well the terror she must have felt. “What were they doing when they left? Did you hear anything? See anything?”

“No- no! I was just scolding Miss Granger for ripping a library book. She- She was saying about needing to talk to the headmaster and ran out!” she stumbled.

“She ripped a library book?” Edward asked in surprise. He knew Granger loved books and he couldn’t imagine her intentionally ripping one. Irma nodded her head as she covered her mouth, tears streaming down her face.

“It was the ‘Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them’ by Newt Scamander, first edition, call number 591.14S1927! I was so upset because that was one of the more treasured books in the – the library but I.. I couldn’t imagine… I didn’t think… She was the best student in the library…” Irma’s thoughts descended into cries as she sobbed horribly about the loss of her students. Edward tried to consol her and remind her that they weren’t dead, just petrified, but she was hysterical, rightfully so. He sat her down gently at one of the tables in the annex and gave her his handkerchief.

Only a few minutes passed before his patronus returned. The occamy dissipated into stardust as the nurse and headmaster rounded the corner of the library. Poppy yelped in surprise seeing the students there and Albus looked just as distraught. After the parental outrage, the ministry investigations and the rumors, this was about the worse thing that could happen. The headmaster instantly turned to the portrait of a very stout man next to him.

“Spread word to the heads of houses that all students need to return to their common rooms effective immediately,” he ordered strictly. The painted man hopped on an equally stout horse and ran off through the corridors shouting the news.

“Albus, what is going to happen?” Poppy asked quietly as she lowered the petrified students to the ground. With a wave of her wand, they were hovering beside her ready to be transported to the hospital ward. There were now four students, a ghost, and a cat. Edward was afraid that the nurse was running out of beds in the ward. He just hoped that they wouldn’t have to run any trips to the morgue.

Albus looked lost and while he wasn’t one to lose a fight, without any direction to go it was obvious that the headmaster was worried. He looked at his petrified students in dismay, the quiet sobs of Irma ringing through their ears.

“If the monster can’t be caught, I am afraid that it is time to consider closing the school.”

…..

The school was under strict curfew and along with having to guard the dorms at night, the teachers escorted the students to their classes. It felt like the school was under armed guard but the problem was that no one knew what their attacker looked like. While the students worried, the teachers were forced to put on a brave face to stave their panic.

Edward found that in the days following the recent attacks that his classes grew exponentially. Many of the students who had free periods chose to spend their time in his room rather than in their dormitories. He had the feeling that they felt safer in the presence of an immortal alchemist than by themselves. Unfortunately, Edward didn’t know if it would make much a difference as he had failed twice already to save students from petrification.

“There was nothing you could do to stop it,” Hohenheim reasoned with him, smiting down his own belittlement.

“I still don’t even know what this thing is,” Edward muttered distastefully. While he wanted to do everything to find out the cause of these attacks, he was being run ragged guarding the students that he barely had time to sleep let alone conduct his own research. He was constantly dancing on the edge of his energy reserves, pulling souls out of the stone to help the faculty with escorting the students. Alphonse was currently out, taking his second year class down to Minerva for transfigurations.

Just as he thought of that, his first year class came strolling in behind a way too happy Lockhart. Another downside of escort duty was that Edward was having way too many interactions with this man to remain sane.

“I don’t think sanity is even a concept for the man,” Roy commented.  

“Edward! I have your first year class with some tag alongs!” the man cheered. Edward tuned out the man’s jabber as he glanced behind him to see the two Weasley twins along with a decent crowd of other fourth year students. They waved at him tiredly. Edward sighed and clapped his hands, transmuting a few more chairs out of his own desk so that they could all sit. Most of his cabinets were already sacrificed for more seating arrangements. He might just have to move his class down to the Rear hall at this rate.

After kicking Gilderoy out with more energy than he had at the moment, the students all took their seats, the twins sitting next to their younger sister Ginny. She was a student who was taking the news of the petrifications worse than others. Edward had noticed her worry and panic take over and it got in the way of the girl’s focus in class. The twins nudged her encouragingly and teased her to try and lift her mood. Eventually, Edward saw Ginny raise her hand for the first time in weeks.

“What is it?”

“You were here when the founders were, right?” Ginny asked quietly. Edward nodded his head unfortunately knowing where the conversation was going.

“Yes, but I don’t know anything about the legend. I was kind of preoccupied in dealing with King Arthur,” Edward said bluntly. “I would appreciate if people quit asking me about it.”

“I didn’t want to know about the chamber, professor,” she said honestly. “I was just curious about Slytherin. Did you know him well?” Edward sighed as he set down his chalk and looked at the other students in his classroom. They all sat on the edge of their seats, eager to understand anything, anything at all, about the circumstances that had arisen in the castle.

“He was a rightful jackass, that’s what,” he said tiredly. As there were no Slytherins in the room, the students openly chuckled at his bluntness. “He saw people as tools to get ahead and didn’t once feel anything for those he hurt. He tried several times during his lifetime to rid the school of its muggleborn inhabitants, even tried getting me to use my alchemy to do it. That is what led to his and Gryffindor’s falling out.”

“He asked you to rid the school?” Fred asked in shock. “But why?”

“I am an immortal being with a power that no one in that time understood. It was easy for them to see me as a weapon rather than a person. He was desperate to prove himself and did everything he could think of to bar muggle-borns from entering the school. Asking me was the last resort. I of course refused and that led to his removal from the castle,” he said. The students whispered amongst themselves, and Edward rolled his eyes.

“No, I am not the heir. I don’t appreciate you associating me with that man in any way. He hated for hatred’s sake, killed for killings sake, and did not understand the value of life. It doesn’t matter where you come from, what you are, or what you want to be. Your life cannot be replicated, it cannot be conjured, and it cannot be replaced once taken. Therefore, each life is the most priceless thing in the universe. This is true for muggles, wizards, and even alchemists. He failed to understand this and I don’t want to be associated with anyone as cruel as that. I am sure that you don’t either,” he scolded them harshly. The students withered in their seats at his lecture. He understood that they just wanted answers, everyone did, but finding a scapegoat was not the way no matter how easy a target some people could be. Ginny sank further in her chair, the worry on her face even more profound. Edward was afraid that he had only put more fear in her about the chamber rather than relieve it.

The students descended into conversations about the chamber. Many conversations over the past few days were students theorizing who the heir was or even how to stop the petrifications. While he knew their plans to be outrageous and fallible, they were generating rumor mills and drawing lines where they shouldn’t be drawn.  

“If the heir is from Slytherin then wouldn’t removing the Slytherin house from the school stop the chamber?” he heard a student suggest. Again, finding someone to place the blame on. Edward shook his head.

“No. Salazar was the scum of the earth. His house on the other hand is not. Not everyone in Slytherin house followed his footsteps. In my opinion,” he continued, “Merlin would have been a better founder. While Salazar’s only redeeming quality was his passion, his passion hurt others. Merlin had more will and more fire in him than that snake ever could, and he used it to help everyone. It was a rather big goal but… he did his best. Removing Slytherin house would do nothing and in doing so we would be no better than Salazar himself.”

“But there has to be a way to stop this. If not finding the heir, what about the chamber? Does anyone have an idea on where it is?”

“It’s hard to say. The school got rearranged many times since its founding. While most of it is the same when I was here such as the library, hospital ward, and most classrooms, as you could imagine, plumbing really wasn’t a thing back then so the floor plans moved a bit to accommodate with modernization. For example, what was once Slytherin’s head office is now a girl’s bathroom.” That generated a lot of chuckles from the students which in made Edward smile.

“A rather suitable conversion in my opinion,” he tacked on to earn just a few more laughs. “Now, in the chaos of everything, I understand that you might be worried but unfortunately, final exams still exist and I must get my first-year students ready for those,” he said towards the older students who were carrying most of the distracting conversation. They groaned and picked up their own studies as they bunkered down to wait the end of class. While they used his class as a safe haven, Edward still wanted to use it as a classroom.

………………

“Brother, you don’t look so good,” Alphonse noted as he met him down at the Great Hall for dinner. Edward had walked his own afternoon class down while Alphonse had helped Severus escort his potions students. They stood by the doors, counting the kids as they walked in eager for some food. When they were sure they had everyone, they made their own way to the High Table.

 “Maybe you should return me to the stone,” Alphonse suggested as Edward took his seat. Despite knowing he couldn’t eat, the faculty scooted their seats to make room for Alphonse’s large armor.

“I am not going to pass out if that’s what you are saying,” Edward retorted, remembering the last time he bonded too many souls in succession. He was greatly pushing his limit. He knew if he bonded one more without ample rest that he would be waking up in the Hospital Ward. “You are already bonded. You might as well stay out and help me with these students,” he grumbled.

“I feel like you just like pushing your work off on me,” his brother dead panned, making him smirk.

“That I do.” He gathered some food on his plate, his brother scolding him to eat more to keep up his strength. As he finished piling his plate, Edward couldn’t help but notice the solemn expressions on most of the faculty’s faces. Some whispered quietly to each other seemingly to avoid the wandering ears of the students.

“Do you think he did it?” Aurora asked Pomona quietly.

“Of course not! He couldn’t hurt a fly!” the stout woman cried. “To think…”

“Azkaban…How will he survive?” As Edward was lost in their conversation, Minerva sat down next to him. He looked up just to find her similarly glum.

“Minerva, what’s going on?” he asked her softly. The witch glanced at him, a mournful expression on her face. She looked stressed beyond belief. Minerva was usually organized, and put together with her hair in a tight bun and her witch’s hat set delicately on her head at a particularly fashionable angle. She was strict with herself so that she could be doubly strict with her students. However, now Edward was worried as she looked like a wreck. He hair was falling loosely out of her bun and her hat was forgotten. While all of the other teachers were looking worse for wear with the long hours of watching the dorm coupled with grading, teaching, and marching the students from class to class, she looked like she fought off a troll.  

“I am surprised you haven’t heard but… it’s been so chaotic lately, particularly the last day,” she said as she tried to find her words. “With the most recent attack the ministry has come to their decision.”

“Their decision? They didn’t find anything. They can’t have a decision.”

“They didn’t have to,” Minerva said. “They already knew who they were going to blame before even stepping foot on castle grounds. It’s the same as last time. They’re arresting Hagrid-“

“Last time? There was a last time?!” Edward exclaimed quietly.

 “But… Hagrid?! Why him? He’s got nothing to do with it,” Alphonse added on in a hushed voice. Edward hadn’t really talked to Hagrid since the ministry’s investigations. The giant holed himself up in his hut until the ministry was gone and since the last attack, Edward hadn’t had time to go check up on him. He couldn’t believe that the ministry would blame him. He wouldn’t hurt a fly even if that fly stabbed his sister. Minerva sighed tiredly.

“Yes, the chamber is supposed to hold a monster and… well you know Rubeus’ love of exotic things,” she explained. “His creatures got him in trouble in the past and it unfortunately is the perfect fall. They’re going to send him to Azkaban unless we find the real attacker.”

“When… When are they going to take him?” Edward asked her. Minerva didn’t even have to answer as she looked at the clock. Seeing this, Edward abruptly stood up from the table. Minerva and the other faculty members near him were startled by the sudden action. Alphonse moved to get up as well, but Edward snapped at him, ordering him to stay and look after the students. Without another word, he spun on his heel and marched out of the castle.

It was a clear starry night, brisk as the seasons taunted to change. The lights were on in the small hut that sat at the edge of the forbidden forest. Much to Edward’s relief he took that as a sure sign that he wasn’t too late. He stormed up to the door and banged heavily on it. He was about to yell at the man on the other side when the door suddenly opened up and the danger end of a crossbow was stuck out of it. Edward yelped as he jumped to the side to avoid behind impaled.

“I’m tellin’ yer to ger’off me property an… oh… Edward… er,” the giant stumbled as he saw who was on the other side. He looked down at his crossbow and awkwardly tossed it to the side. “I.. uh… was expectin’ someone else,” Rubeus muttered. Edward glared at him angrily.

“I know. That’s why I am here,” he replied cooly. Rubeus twisted his fingers nervously, shame flooding him. The giant was at a loss of words and so Edward offered some for him.

“May I come in?” he asked. Rubeus nodded his head and stepped to the side. He barred the door after Edward entered, seeming intent to not go to Azkaban without a fight. Despite arming his house for a siege, Rubeus still was hospitable and made up a pot of tea for him and offered him a seat. Edward took it politely as he watched the man fumble around his own kitchen. He was clumsy, spilling half the pot of water on the fire and nearly putting it out. Edward told him to bring the pot of cold water over to the table instead and he alchemized the heat into it, much to the giant’s relief. He was nervous, rightfully so.

“Edward, I –“ Rubeus stumbled as they settled into their cups of tea.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Edward cut him off.

“But I gotta tell yer. Just so someone knows. Rumors are spreadin’,” he whined.

“I know you didn’t do it.”

“They’re gonna arrest me fer sure. They got no reason not ter. I already got out before,” Rubeus said, ignoring Edward’s words. “Albus stopped me from goin’. That’s how I lost me magic. They took that instead of sendin’ me to Azkaban.” He stumbled, his words fumbling over themselves as he grew more anxious. Edward rested his hand on the giant’s own, trying to clam him. Rubeus took the motion gratefully.

“I don’ suppose yer heard of the last time the chamber was opened,” Rubeus sniffled, doing his best to hold back his panic. Edward shook his head. The giant sighed. “There were no petrifcation. None of it. A girl died and that was it. I was caring fer a critter at the time. They tried ter kill ‘im. When I stopped ‘em, they took my magic instead. Now I ain’t got no creatures to scare off. Now they’re commin’ fer me.”  Edward patted the man comfortingly.

“I know you didn’t do it,” Edward said once again.

“I wish the ministry knew that,” Rubeus muttered glumly.

“I am going to make this right. I am going to tell them it was me,” Edward said firmly. Rubeus’s eyes widened in shock as he heard what Edward was telling him.

“No. Yer can’t do that. Not fer me. I won’t have yer do that!” Rubeus responded angrily.

“If they were looking for a scapegoat, they should have picked me,” Edward argued. “I am immortal. I have the stone. I was already accused once for this by the faculty. It would be too easy for them to say it was me again. I am the obvious choice.”

“But yer didn’t do it!”

“Neither did you!” Edward snapped as he stood up from his chair.  “I don’t want to see you go to Azkaban! I have experienced torture like that. I can handle it.”

“That doesn’ mean yer should!” Rubeus barked as he, too, rose from the table. His large belly knocked over the teacups as he towered over him. Edward glared at him as he was ready for a fight, but Rubeus was not backing down. “Now, yer listen ‘ere! Those kids are still in danger. Who’s gonna protect ‘em? Me? Yer got a better chance at findin’ that thing. I can’t … I can’t see another student die!”

Edward frowned as he heard Rubeus’s anger wilt into a plead. He couldn’t let the students get hurt and he thought Edward was the school’s best chance at finding the monster. Edward didn’t believe him. He had already been so close to two petrifications and yet had no lead on where to go. He couldn’t help the students. Not in the way that he wanted him to. Edward opened his mouth to reason with him, but the giant stood firm.

“I ain’t goin’ without a fight, but if one of us goes, let it be me,” Rubeus said quietly after they had let their frustration dissipate.

A knock at the door had the both of them tensing. Rubeus moved for his crossbow but Edward waved him down as they heard familiar voices on the other side.

“Hagrid, open up!” Edward unbarred the door and opened it, glaring at the two students on the other side.

“You should be in curfew!” he scolded them, but let them in anyways as he knew that Rubeus was very partial towards them. The students looked around the hut at the broken teacups and the crossbow on the table. Their obvious worry for their friend only grew. Seeing the mess, Rubeus, instead of tea, started to plate some fruitcake for them. Edward clapped his hands and fixed the mess for him, much to the man’s gratitude.

“Hagrid, did you hear about Hermione?” Ron asked, obviously having not heard about the more pressing matter that was weighing on the giant’s shoulders.

“Uh, yeah, I heard, all righ’.” Rubeus’ voice cracked. Right as he was about to set the fruitcake on the table, there was yet again another knock on the door. Edward rarely heard the giant curse and yet there he went as the plate of fruitcake crashed to the floor. The students exchanged looks and in a second they threw a blanket over themselves and disappeared. Edward didn’t have time to be surprised as Hagrid grabbed his crossbow once more just as the door was opened.

Albus stood on the other side along with the Minister of Magic. The headmaster had lost all the usual hidden amusement he held and was looking deadly serious. The Minister on the other hand was rather sweaty and nervous.

“Good evening, Hagrid,” Albus greeted, eyeing the crossbow. The man’s presence was enough to send Rubeus down into his nearest sitting chair, as he had gone pale with fear. While the giant wanted to put up a fight, it seemed the fear of Azkaban wasn’t in him until that moment.

“I never… You know I wouldn’t, Professor,” he begged Albus as they entered the small hut. Albus set a gentle hand on his shoulder, reassuring him that he understood.

“Albus, Hagrid’s got a record and the Ministry’s got to act,” Cornelius said. Edward stepped forward to interrupt the argument but he saw Rubeus shake his head in despair. He didn’t want him to go for him. Yet, that didn’t mean that Edward would let him go without an argument.

“Just because the Ministry needs to put up face, doesn’t mean that you can send someone to Azkaban for it,” Edward argued firmly. “Taking Hagrid away isn’t going to help.”

“Look at it from my point of view, young man-“

“Cornelius, I know we have had this conversation before,” Albus said firmly with a fire that he only reserved for those that deserved it. “This is Paracelsus and I will see it that you treat my faculty with the respect they deserve.” The minister only grew more nervous and started fidgeting with his hat as he realized his mistake.

“Oh uh… my apologies, old, sir,” he stumbled making Edward roll his eyes in disgust. “I am under a lot of pressure you see. I got to do something. If it turns out it wasn’t Hagrid, he’ll be let out with a full apology.”

“That is a shitty perspective! A full apology, Minister, does not fix what you are about to put an innocent man through,” Edward snapped. Albus glared at him for his language but he stayed true to his word.

 Cornelius was just about to fumble another defense when there was another knock on the door. There was getting to be too many people for a matter such as this. Edward flung the door open and after seeing who was on the other side, instantly slammed the door shut. The Minister looked at him with shock as he was surprised by his brashness. The shock turned to horror as the uninvited guest let himself in and presented himself as Lucius Malfoy. Cornelius nearly had a heart attack.

“Get outta my house!” Rubeus roared as he saw the tower of slime in front of him. Lucius looked around in genuine surprise as he caught sight of the teacups and forgotten fruitcake.

“Oh my, you call this a house?” Lucius asked in disgust.

“What do you want?” Edward growled defensively.

“I need the headmaster, not his guard dog,” he said condescendingly. Edward felt a volcano of anger erupt in his chest but it was silenced by Albus clearing his throat in warning.

“I am here, but we have pressing matters at hand. What is it that you need that cannot wait?” Albus said sternly. Lucius grinned cockily as he pulled out a letter.

“Well, I am here to tell you that you are now suspended. All school governors have signed, including myself.” Albus took the letter to read over.

“Suspension? That is the last thing the ministry needs now!” Cornelius cried. “If Dumbledore can’t stop this… who can? He needs to be here!”

“Maybe have the immortal alchemist try his hand at beast slaying,” Lucius taunted.

“Yeh can’ take Dumbledore! The kids won’ stand a chance!” Hagrid cried. While Edward hated the headmaster, he couldn’t help but agree. Albus knew the workings of the castle better than anyone. He held order, he held loyalty, and he held the trust of the student body. Even if Albus couldn’t find the monster, he embodied the belief that someone could. Take that away and the school would lose everything.

“If the governors all want me gone, I will leave,” Albus said. While it sounded like a submission, Edward saw the fire in the man’s eyes making it a threat. “You will find that as long as there are people here loyal to me, I will never truly have left. Help will always be given to at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” Lucius bowed mockingly.

“Truly admirable, but… if you will,” he sniped as he opened the door to usher the headmaster out. Albus gave farewell to each one of them before leaving the hut. Lucius turned to follow but before he made his way to the stairs, Edward casually stuck his foot out. Lucius tripped over it and managed to miss every step out of the hut, landing on the rough ground outside. Albus looked at him sternly, but a slight nod of his head showed the glimmer of approval. Before Lucius could recover, Edward closed the door behind him, muffling the man’s angered cries.  

Unlike Lucius who could verbally force the headmaster to leave the castle, Cornelius was finding his own trouble with Rubeus. He anxiously fiddled with his cap and coughed nervously to get the giant’s attention. Rubeus, knowing what was next, took a deep breath and stood up from his seat. The Minister motioned for him to go ahead of him, but he was rightfully ignored.

“Edward,” Rubeus said, putting his large dustbin lid sized hand on his shoulder. “If yer or anyone wanted to find out some… stuff… Just follow the spiders. That’s all yer gotta do.” The Minister muttered something about Edward being Paracelsus but Rubeus ignored him and marched out of the hut. The minister scurried to follow him, barely summoning a goodbye before the door closed on him. Edward watched the door as he listened to the voices fade from outside the cabin. He felt slobber from Fang hit his shoulder as the large dog rested his wet muzzle on his shoulder where his owner’s hand once was.

“Professor, what are we going to do?” he heard Harry ask as they reappeared out of thin air.

“With Dumbledore gone… they might as well close the school,” Ron added. Edward patted Fang reassuringly as the dog started to whine. He sighed tiredly and shrugged.

“We just have to find the culprit. It’s the only thing we can do.” The two students looked at each other just as lost as he was.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 39

The Monster

“You look like shit,” Severus said bluntly at the breakfast table as Edward was nearly falling over in his morning grits. He was exhausted and his bitter mood only made him more so.

“I told him to not bring me out this morning but he doesn’t listen,” Alphonse sighed. “It’s gotten to the point that me and the other souls started taking shifts.”

“I think I’m next,” Hohenheim said begrudgingly. A few other souls whined in complaint.

“M’fine,” Edward mumbled a lie. He felt like he was being run ragged as he continued to watch over the students and guard the dorms. He was near his breaking point using the stone but he continued as the school needed all the help it could get. He was already calculating when he could take the next soul out without sending himself to the hospital ward.

Just as predicted, the castle was in utter chaos since Albus left. The bit of order that remained was because Minerva’s hard work as deputy headmistress. She took control like a captain of a ship but it was unfortunate for her that the ship she got was already sinking. Fear ran rampant and all the students could do was get together and pray. Edward saw friend groups grow tighter in the uncertainty. Students were no longer taking sides or placing blame. They were just worried about who the next target would be. All the faculty could do was bail water.

“I know you are taking Hagrid’s departure personally, but you shouldn’t be pushing yourself so much,” Winry scolded him from the stone. “I don’t want to see you in the hospital ward again for being stupid.”

“Hey, I am not stupid!” Edward bit back. His outburst earning a raised eyebrow from Severus.

“You should really listen to Winry,” Alphonse advised. Though he couldn’t hear their conversation, he knew them too well to expect anything different. “Hagrid wouldn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, I am worrying!” he argued. “It should have been me they took, not him! I am no where nearer to finding the cause of this and the longer I take, the longer he’s in Azkaban!”

“They were never going to take you,” Severus replied calmly, despite Edward’s distress. “They had already known they were going to place the blame on Hagrid before they even conducted that stupid investigation. They were just hoping on stirring up something and keeping face.” That answer only made Edward more angry and yet the ever growing mountain of failure in front of him made him drop his head in frustration. He felt like he was running a race he could not win.

“It’s not right,” he mumbled and Severus just nodded his head in agreement.

“Pomona is trying to gather together bail money, should they post it,” he mentioned.

“Are they going to post it?” Alphonse asked hopefully.

“Most likely not.” They sat there poking at their breakfast in silence like most of the faculty. While most people enjoyed the morning breakfast conversations, there really wasn’t much to enjoy anymore.

“Why does everyone look so glum? Come on! There is nothing to be worried about! We should be celebrating!” an annoying voice pierced the Great Hall. The entire faculty table looked up to see Gilderoy in his obnoxious purple robes smiling at them.

“Celebrating what exactly?” Edward growled, the man’s audacity sparking a nerve in him. It was very obvious that everyone was upset about one of their friends getting targeted. Even a blind man could tell. Yet, Gilderoy wasn’t blind. He was stupid, which only made Edward more peeved.

“Well victory of course! The danger is over. The culprit is caught!” Lockhart cheered. “The ministry did a wonderful job at their investigation. They knew right away that he was guilty and-“ Something snapped in him. Edward didn’t know if it was his frustration or his exhaustion but he didn’t let the man finish as he took the entire serving bowl of grits and in one swift motion smashed it over the man’s head. The rest of the faculty watched in shock at his sudden reaction. Gilderdoy was too stunned to even try and recover his arrogant smile. Without a word Edward took a scrap of paper from his pocket and jotted down a note, slamming it down on the table infront of Pomona.

“If you need more, let me know,” he growled. Pomona looked down at the note and nearly fainted as he turned to leave.

“He has that much money… for bail?!” He heard Filius cry before he stormed out of the Great Hall.

“Edward, you need to calm down. You are working yourself up,” Winry scolded him again as he marched through the castle. He didn’t know where he was going but he knew he had to move. The fury that was rising in him was about to bubble over and he didn’t think he could let anyone else get caught in it.

“I don’t have time to calm down. Rubeus is in Azkaban. This creature is going to kill someone, and I still don’t know how to get us home! It’s not fair.” Edward cried.

“When was life ever fair?” Hohenheim said harshly. “You have lived long enough to have learned this by now.”

“I know it! But I just need something to give soon or else that thing is going to be me!” he snapped back. “I can’t help. I can’t do anything to stop this. I have the stone, magic, and all this power and yet I am no better off than a muggle. I need to fix this.”

“You’re giving yourself too much credit,” Mustang said. “The world cannot be fixed by one man. Even with us that is all you are. While I admire your determination, you are a fool to think you can fix everything by yourself.” Edward pulled to a stop outside the second floor bathroom where the writing from Halloween was still stained on the wall. The staff tried everything to get it off but it was magic proofed. It had seemed so long ago, that first attack. It had all began with that damn cat. Edward heard the clanking of his brother’s armor as he caught up to him, but he didn’t turn to greet him.

“It’s hard to think that Professor Slytherin started all of this,” Alphonse said quietly.

“It seems I’m not the only one who history hasn’t left behind,” Edward joked lightly though no one could smile at it at that moment.

….

Edward sat in the abandoned classroom on the seventh floor corridor drawing another transmutation circle. Since his first day in the castle, Edward had gone there in secret to use his alchemy. It was originally to restore his automail which took years to complete. Merlin used to join him in there to keep him company, but that was years ago. He had since graduated and moved on but Edward was still stuck there. Now, the room was used for odd maintenance and research purposes. He found it odd that no one ever used that classroom since it was perfectly stocked with everything that he needed. Paper, quills, ink, and even a quiet place for him to read on his own. It was the perfect place to be for someone who was so easily overwhelmed with the magical world. While he sometimes got lost trying to find the room, it was always there, fully stocked when he needed it the most.

Currently, Edward was trying to fix up a dented plate on his automail. They had tried to teach him to fly on a broom and that led him face planting into ground, using his hard metal leg as his only cushion. The flying instructor said that he never saw a boulder try to fly but he had the skill sets to probably match one.

“You fly brooms like you drive cars,” Mustang commented from the stone.

“Hey! I don’t remember you offering any driving lessons!” Edward retorted sharply. He unscrewed his leg plate and set it on the desk. After looking at it a bit, he clapped his hands and alchemical blue energy picked up. In an instant the plate remolded itself and Edward picked it up to inspect it.

“This is it,” he heard a sudden voice breathe out. Edward’s eyes widened in shock as he spun around to the doorway to see Professor Slytherin standing there. Fear filled him as he realized that he was caught using his alchemy. Ravenclaw had warned him all those years ago to keep it secret from those at Hogwarts. He did his best but he needed alchemy and so he always made some justification for using it. However, now seeing the hungry look in the Professor’s eyes, he wished he had listened.

“This is it. This is the answer!” Salazar cheered again as he rushed further into the room. Edward stood up from the desk he was sitting at but the Professor grabbed tightly onto the rough red wool of his cloak. While he had been on the wrong side of Slytherin’s anger before, earning himself torture filled detentions to correct his behavior, this was different. The man wasn’t angry, he was filled with a feverish hunger of the likes Edward had never seen.

“I was just wandering, thinking and praying for an answer, and here you are! You are it! You are going to save Hogwarts. I see it now!” Salazar exclaimed. “The potential. The power. Paracelsus, you need to use this. Rise above the rest!”

“Professor, I don’t know what you mean,” Edward said hesitantly, trying his hardest to get the man to let go of him.

“You are the answer to this muggle problem. I have tried every way to wipe those magicless miscreants from the school. Now this is it! You can cleanse the school once and for all!” he said. The crazed look made it look like he thought he found salvation.

“Cleanse the school? No-“ He started but was shut up by a slap on the face. Edward knew better than to speak back to Slytherin but what he was asking for now was not potions or snake lessons. It was genocide. He roughly grabbed a hold of him and shoved the man off him, backing up a few paces towards the door.

“I am not going to do that!” Edward warned him as the man recovered and came greedily after him.

“You are immortal. Now with the power of creation itself?! You can set it all straight. No more muggles, no more kings! Just magic as pure and free as it should be!”

 “Alchemy is not a weapon!” Edward snapped but the man launched once more at him. His boney hands grabbed onto Edward’s shoulders and they staggered out into the corridor. The door to his small sanctuary disappearing behind them.

“Don’t deny it. This is what you were brought here for! Remember what those muggles have done to you. They tortured you and trapped you because you were different. They should be the ones to burn!”

“Salazar!” A voice roared beside them. Edward glanced over to see the older form of Godric Gryffindor in the corridor, a pure rage spread over his face. “I have heard enough of you. You will unhand my student.”

“Your student? By your hat he is Ravenclaw’s student. Not for much longer. You didn’t see it Godric! His raw power! He needs to be the true force of nature he was meant to be!” Salazar laughed like an insane man who found salvation. Edward reeled back out of his grip, terror filling him. Just as Salazar was going to grab him once more, a ruby encrusted sword came down between them.

“Godric, what are you going to do? Impale me with that stick of yours?” Salazar teased.

“If I have to, I must,” Godric breathed making Salazar’s eyes widen with shock. While Professor Slytherin and Gryffindor had been the best of friends, since Edward got to the castle that slowly had went away. The pure fury in Professor Gryffindor’s face made him know that there was a line that was crossed. That line was Edward.

…………

While Slytherin was long dead, his impression on Hogwarts lasted far longer than it should have. Now, to think that something tangible from that man’s reputation made it through was horrific to say the least. Edward didn’t know anything about this secret chamber but he did know the bloodlust of the old Founder. He didn’t doubt that had Slytherin not found a new monster to cleanse the school that he would have found a way to put him in that chamber instead. After seeing what he did in the crusades, Edward didn’t want to think of the damage Slytherin’s second best solution would cause. He had to find it.

“Nothing we say is going to get you to rest, is it?” Winry said sadly, a reminiscent smile in her voice. “You never change do you?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” he answered fondly as he remembered all those years back Amestris when he and his brother were searching for the stone. They barely took a break and time and time again they worked themselves to the bone, crawling back to Resembool with broken bones and spirits. It drove Winry crazy. Yet, she was always there for them all the same.

“Just promise me this time you will take it easy. You are running yourself thin and I can’t stand seeing you tear yourself apart anymore,” she pleaded quietly. “Focus on one thing. Make this it.”  Edward nodded in agreement. While he was anxious as getting home and helping out his friends, he could do that. For her, he could slow down.

“There has to be something, some sort of answer I am missing,” he mumbled. He tried to think of all of the different petrifications, but they held no pattern. Four students, a ghost and a cat. All of them were different ages, houses, and bloodlines. There didn’t seem to be anything that connected them.

“Let’s run through what we know about the incidents. There has to be something,” Edward said to his brother.

“Brother, what about the first one?”

“It’s a fucking cat, Al. Next.”

“The second one happened a few weeks after, during the quidditch match,” Alphonse continued bitterly as he desperately wanted to find answers in the fluffy pet.

“He was petrified while taking a picture,” Edward noted.

“Oh! Hermione was holding a mirror. Maybe some items are cursed!” his brother suggested thoughtfully.

“No, Sir Porpington and that Hufflepuff student weren’t holding anything. And if you’re so worried about the cat being important, it wasn’t holding anything either,” Edward dismissed until something dawned on him. “But… Granger is one of those nosy Gryffindors.”

“Nosy is a bit rude,” Alphonse scolded but agreed all the same. While they were good kids, they were quite annoying when they kept sticking their noses in where they don’t belong.

“Now you know how I felt looking after you two,” Mustang commented dryly. Edward rolled his eyes.

“Irma said that she ripped a page out of a library book. If it’s anything like the Polyjuice disaster, they’re probably still on their own hunt for the heir,” Edward continued to think aloud. “I need that book.”

“You don’t have classes till the afternoon. I can help escort the students and you can focus on -“ Alphonse got cut off and his armor began to shake. His soul fire eyes flickered weakly.

“You don’t have much time left,” Edward sighed. “I should pull you in.”

“No! I can do it. Don’t pull anyone else out. You’re using too much energy into binding us. Let me do this. I want to help,” Alphonse begged him as Edward raised his hand to summon his soul back.

“Alphonse, I won’t pull anyone else out, at least for a few more hours. I am not going to push myself too far. I promised Winry,” he said.

“Are you sure?” Edward nodded his head. Alphonse relaxed, succumbing to the pull of Edward’s tethered spirit and soon the red fire of his soul was dancing around Edward’s fingertips. He smiled gently down at the soul in his hand. Just like Winry accused him of never changing, he was glad that he could say the same thing about his brother. Even then, he was looking out for him. While many in the past had already seen or used Edward’s alchemy as a weapon, he was just glad that the souls of the stone were never weaponized in such a manner as he was. Seeing this brother’s soul flicker around in the palm of his hand, he longed more than anything to get them home, to return them to humans rather than fuel for the fire.

“One thing at a time,” he heard Winry say as he touched his chest and returned Alphonse to the stone. Yes, one thing at a time and that started with finding Slytherin’s second weapon.

…………..

While Edward didn’t have any classes till the afternoon, he was busy escorting students to their other classes. Without the help of the armor bound souls, he was really putting his legwork in. He felt like he was running a few miles up and down the grand staircase. While he did have to escort a few classes to the dungeons, Severus or other teachers always met him at the top of the dungeon stairs.

“You can request a break you know,” Severus said as he dropped off his most recent class of students.

“What? And have everyone else pick up the slack? You all have bigger class loads than I do.”

“You make teaching sound hard.”

“If you had Flamel as a student you would know my opinion of teaching,” Edward muttered. As the last student passed into the dungeon, Severus handed him a small vial. It was a girding potion.

“If you are going to keep running yourself into the ground, you might as well have the endurance to do it,” he said.

“Thank you,” Edward said honestly as the man turned back towards the dungeons.

“Thank me by taking a break. It’s exhausting seeing you so damn tired.”

While the girding potion was not an energy drink, it let what little energy Edward did have last longer. The smelly potion was rather distasteful but worth it in the end to give him the endurance to climb up and down the stairs several more times. After teaching his few classes, he finally found a window of time for him to collapse in the library for a well-needed break.

“Only an alchemy freak would call research a break,” Winry huffed, making him chuckle. Edward ran over to the circulation desk where Irma was stamping some returned books. The instant she set them down on the return cart they fluttered away like birds to their appropriate nests on the shelves.

“Haven’t seen you here in a while,” she said cooly, though the usual irritation was gone. Edward assumed the most recent attack within the library annex had gotten the better of her. He noted that the annex doors were now left open despite Irma’s usual complaints that it made the library interior too noisy.

“I need to check out that book that Granger had torn,” Edward said. Irma raised her eyebrow but took out a small pad of parchment and began jotting a few notes down.

“It’s back in circulation despite still being down a page. I don’t even know where to get a replacement now. All more recent editions cut down on the information in them. It’s hard to find an original copy,” she sighed. She ripped the paper off and handed it to him. Edward realized it was the call number for the book. She must have had them all memorized by now. “Don’t you dare think of ruining it further,” she threatened with a heat that challenged the sun.

“No ma’am,” he replied quickly before scurrying off towards the Natural science section. He scanned the books and eventually came upon a rather worn down book. He knew it was a good one as he knew he author yet he guessed by the wear that others thought similarly. He pulled the book down and found the closest table to inspect it.

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander was one of the first guides to magical zoology published. Most researchers before then had thought of their craft as too casual for publication as most wizards who were interested in magical creatures simply thought of their study as a mere hobby. Creatures were Newt’s life and he thought it best to spread the word so that people could learn to interact with them properly, or… not at all in some cases. Fantastic Beasts cataloged 85 creatures in its first publication, many of which Edward helped Newt find on his own attempt to recover the philosopher’s stone. Organized by originating continent and danger level, it was easy to sort through to find what creature you were looking at. If that beast was trying to bite your head off, flip to the back. If it was trying to steal your pocket watch, it was in the front.

Edward set the book down on the table and flipped through it page by page trying to find the damage that Irma had complained about. The more pages he turned, the more he grew anxious about finding what Granger thought was concerning enough to rip a library book. He turned until he reached the quintuple X section and he cursed as he saw the ribbed edge of a torn page.

“Fuck,” he cursed. Whatever Granger was looking at, it was powerful enough to be listed in the untamable killer section. These beasts cannot be reasoned with and most people don’t live long enough to get the chance to try. He turned through the section. Dragons, Chimeras, Quintapeds, Edward had been on the bad end of many of them and the only reason why he was still breathing was because he was immortal. The issue was that for the life of him, he could not even begin to guess what the torn creature was.

“Brother you read every book in this place. Can’t you remember?” Alphonse asked desperately, hoping to jog his memory.

“I didn’t read this one!”

“You were friends with the author. You were there when he published it. I told you that you should read it!” Winry scolded him.

“Well maybe if you stopped nagging me I would have found the desire to read it!” Edward retorted. While had been on several expeditions with Newt and knew of his writings, he did not actually get around to reading all of it. Newt’s genius behind magical creatures was something that fascinated Edward but unfortunately he was preoccupied with finding his brother and the rest of the philosopher’s stone. Magical beasts and creatures weren’t something that could get him home and so he never picked up many books on the subject.

 Edward groaned as he closed the book and sat back in his chair. The only way to know what was on that page was to find it or to get another copy of the book. Unfortunately, this was a first edition copy. Edward didn’t know how many more of them were around.

“The care of magical creatures teacher might know. They should know that book from the inside out,” Hohenheim suggested but Edward shook his head in dismay.

“Kettleburn was just sent to the hospital after losing another foot,” Edward reminded him of the unfortunate departure of their creatures teacher. In attempting to fix the problems at Hogwarts, the ministry’s investigations just made more problems than solutions. Not only did their interference with a hippogriff class mortally wound a professor, but now it took away the easiest answer as to finding what was on that page.

“Is your friend still alive? You could write him a letter,” Hohenheim advised. Edward thought about it. He would have been 96 which was old but by wizard standards not incredibly so. He was probably still working around the ministry with his conservation projects.

“A letter is going to take too long. It will be days to get a response even if he is still alive and wanting to respond,” Edward said downheartingly. “There has to be another way-,” he started but then jumped from his seat as he felt something scuttle across his foot. He ducked his head under the table to see the largest spider he had seen scurry off towards the windows of the library. A trail of smaller spiders followed it.

“Weird,” his brother commented as they watched the arachnids march. Edward remembered seeing the spiders back in the beginning of the year. However, the sheer number of spiders and their vast exodus was concerningly unnatural.

“Didn’t Hagrid say something about spiders?” Alphonse asked and Edward nodded his head. Rubeus had told him to follow the spiders if he wanted to find out more. It seemed that the giant knew more than what he had initially told. At the very least, he knew why the spiders in the castle were all worried.

Making up his mind, Edward checked the book out with Irma and wrote a letter to his old friend. After writing a few pages to catch his friend up to speed on his life as well as his serious inquiry, he posted the letter with his owl Sock. He told the bird to fly fast and bribed it with the promise of a few more treats upon its return.

The night was starting to wear on him and he found himself yawning tiredly as he sent his owl off into the unknown. The potion that Severus had given him was dwindling and the stone scolded him to take the potion master’s suggestion seriously to get some rest. While his bed was calling to him, he instead gathered up his cloak and a lantern to recover the lost trail of spiders. He would rest tonight and call off teaching tomorrow. He knew that the other professors would understand. But now, he needed to find answers.

Edward recovered the trail of spiders along the outer wall of the castle. A mix of large and small arachnids all raced freely down the stone walls and across the grass. The orderly line continued despite being outside in the open. Edward traced it across the castle lawn until he reached the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. He didn’t know all of what was in the forest. He just knew that it was forbidden for a reason. His fingers itched to bring another soul out of the stone but they all yelled at him in unison.

“You will pass out if you do this again. Don’t make me pick you up off the floor again,” he heard Mustang threaten. Edward relented, knowing they were right, and braced himself for whatever the woods would hold. A mile or so into the dark forest, he would find that it held two students who should rightfully be in bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Edward whispered harshly, not wanting anything unseemly overhear them. The two Gryffindors spun around like deer in the headlights.

“Professor, we were just uh-“

“Following the spiders?!” Edward answered for Potter who looked down at the ground in shame.

“Professor, I don’t want anything to do with these spiders, but we need to help Hagrid,” Ron defended.

“Rubeus was telling that to me. He wouldn’t tell two kids to… fuck… he would, wouldn’t he?” Edward muttered as he thought about it. Hagrid probably didn’t think whatever was at the end of the trail would hurt them. However, the forest and its other inhabitants would. Edward would have to lecture Hagrid when he got back about what was and wasn’t safe to have kids do. “Regardless, it is too dangerous. You should head back.”

“But Professor, we lost the trail,” Harry commented. Edward looked down at the ground and realized that they were right. The small trail of spiders was gone meaning that Edward didn’t know the way forward and with how deep they were into the forest, the students didn’t know the way back. He sighed tiredly and switched his lantern to his automail hand, ushering them to follow him.

They walked a short distance to try and find the trail once more before Edward heard a sudden scream behind him. He spun around to see Ron frozen in absolute terror as a giant spider picked up Harry in its pinchers. Edward dropped his lantern to clap his hands but his automail was suddenly snatched up by another pair of fangs. Before they could blink, the spiders were carrying them off, deeper into the forest’s interior.

“What the hell are these things?” Alphonse cried from within the stone as Edward continued to struggle against the spider’s hold.

“Are fucking kidding me, Hagrid!!” Edward cursed. “Acromantulas?!!” While he knew his friend loved every creature, some were not meant to be loved. Acromantulas were one of those creatures. They were giant spiders with the taste for human flesh. They could not be reasoned with which was why they were in the quintuple X section of Fantastic Beasts.

“You ran into these before?!” his brother asked in shock. Unfortunately, Edward had not had a personal encounter but he was given a warning after his encounter with a quintaped that Acromantulas were similarly carnivorous but had their intelligence still intact making them all the more dangerous.

“Hagrid?” one of the spiders whispered curiously, shocking the students next to him. “These men know Hagrid,” it said to the others.

“We are friends of Hagrid’s!” Harry clarified, having finally regained his courage to speak. A clicking picked up in the forest as these spiders broke through a clearing. Inside the clearing was a giant spider’s nest with web bound trees and dried up husks of centaurs that they had previously feasted on. The spiders dragged them to the center of the hollow and dropped them unceremoniously to the forest floor. Edward staggered to his feet and brought Harry and Ron behind him defensively. A wise man would have been a fool to try and run then as spiders of all shapes and sizes watched their prey from their perches. All he could do was hope that there was an opening that they could escape out of.

“Aragog! Aragog! We brought men!” the spiders said towards the nest. From the middle of the hollow emerged a spider the size of an elephant. The arcromantula moved slowly, blind milky eyes inhibiting its movement. The spider felt the change in the air with its pedipalps, its eight eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“You brought two men and a monster! What are you?” Aragog asked.

“Have you looked in the mirror? I am not a monster!” Edward bit back stiffly. “I am an immortal alchemist!”

“You have a darkness in you. Tormented souls… it’s… unnatural,” Aragog hesitated.

“They are friends of Hagrid’s, they say,” a spider noted.

“Hagrid’s?” Aragog paused. “Hagrid has never sent guests before.”

“He’s in trouble!” said Harry. Edward gave him a rough jab with his elbow to quiet down. The less attention that the students brought on themselves the better. Ron was either smart or too scared to move. Edward couldn’t tear his eyes off Aragog or the other spiders to look.

“They took him to Azkaban. They think he’s released something on the students!”  Harry continued despite Edward’s sharp warning. The spiders raged from their webs, angered at the news.

“That can’t be. I was the monster they arrested him for. They thought it was me!” Aragog roared. “How could they take him again when I have been safely living here with my children?!”

“You aren’t the monster?”

“How can you ask me that when you have a monster standing next to you? We aren’t monsters just creatures of a different being,” Aragog scolded him. “I nor my children have never attacked a human for the sake of our friend Hagrid who raised and protected us. I am not from the Chamber of Secrets. The creature who is we do not speak of. It killed that student in a bathroom while I was locked in the cupboard.”

“But what is it?”

“We do not speak of it!”

“Is it a snake?” Edward asked only to cause the spiders to roar in the thought. The spiders pressed closer and Edward found himself bringing his students closer to him.

“It’s a serpent, ancient and deadly. We do not speak of it nor call it by name! Spiders like me can only flee when we sense it,” Aragog answered. “Just as you should have done in the presence of my children.” Seeing the spiders continue to close in, Edward began backing his students up towards the entrance of the spider’s web. The angry and hungry pinchers of the smaller spiders snapped and clicked.

“While I will not bring harm to Hagrid, it is difficult to tell my sons and daughters no when there is an immortal buffet of fresh meat that willingly walked into our web. Your sacrifice will feed us for generations,” Argagog said and followed it up with an almost polite, “good-bye Alakemist.”

“Fuck!” Edward screeched as he turned around and shoved the students towards the exit. While he knew that these deadly monsters were not kind enough to let them go alive, he didn’t realize that they were planning on using him as their only food source. Unfortunately, death was a mercy he was not privy to.

 The two Gryffindors ran forward, screaming as spiders cascaded down from the treetops to tackle them. Edward threw Ron out of the way as a spider went to clamp down on him. A venomous fang pierced his chest and Edward gasped in shock. Blood spurted out of his mouth and he clapped his hands to pierce the spider’s throat with his automail blade. He fell several feet to the ground and bounced back to his feet as the hole in his chest sealed.

Suddenly, the dark forest was set ablaze with light as a car busted through the web covered tree line and crashed through a wall of spiders. The horn was blaring and doors flew open. Edward didn’t hesitate and threw the students into the possessed car. It started to drive away just as Edward stuffed his last student in the back. It sped up the slope and out of the hollow, leaving him chasing it in the dust.

“What the hell, what the hell! Just my fucking luck!” Edward cursed as he dodged another spider and scrambled after where the taillights of the car disappeared. He sent a roar of earthen spikes towards the spider nest but aside from a couple of the spiders who were skewered, the rest effortlessly climbed over the spikes. They were hungry and he was basically their solution to world hunger.

He clapped his hands and attempted a dual reaction. From one hand another wave of spikes rippled out, the other a dark suit of armor. Edward ran past the armor and casted an angered soul into it as he was running. The roar of the stone filled him as they scolded him for his stupidity.

“Fullmetal, don’t bring me into this!” Mustang cried from the armor. The instant he shook alive the spiders overtook him and the armor was lost to the darkness of the forest. The world started to spin around him as he spent what little energy he had left to cast the soul, but Edward continued to stagger forward. Suddenly, there was a snap and the darkness of the forest was consumed in a burning bright light. An explosion ripped through the forest, unearthing trees, and scattering the spiders back to the safety of their hollow and sending Edward to the ground. The black armor emerged from the smoke, alive but very pissed off.

“You idiot!” Mustang berrated him. “How about next time I launch you into a tsunami of spiders?”  Without question, Mustang scooped Edward up where he laid, knowing full well that he lacked the energy to move on his own. Edward didn’t even fight the man as he was carried with less care than a piece of luggage.

“Where are those students?” Edward mumbled as he dazily looked behind them. The forest spun and the smoke of the smoldering trees got the best of him. He felt like he was going to throw up.

“I am dropping you off at the infirmary and having Poppy chain you to the damn bed! I will find those students,” Mustang scolded him. As Mustang marched them towards the castle, the last thing Edward remembered was seeing the defeated silhouette of web’s inhabitants staring back at them.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 40

Taken

Edward stared up at the ceiling of the Hospital wing bored out of his mind. Like Mustang had promised, Poppy had forced him to rest after his most recent overexertion. She was not too happy to see the state he was in after experiencing what should have been a fatal encounter with the acromantulas. He had been there for a few days already and the nurse was only just letting up on the reins.

“The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason Mr. Elric!” she scolded him for the thousandth time after he was denied on being released. “I don’t even want to imagine where all that blood came from. You undoubtedly. First it was getting your head blown off. Now this. I am wondering if locking you up in Saint Mungo’s would suit you better!”

She was dressed in her usually scrub robes but she wore an old war helmet, and her wand was peeking out of the corner of her robes. Since the most recent attacks, she had been barricading the hospital wing in fear that the monster would come to finish off her petrified patients. It also meant that Edward didn’t have many visitors in his stay. The only people that he could talk to aside from the nurse were in no state to talk back. That didn’t stop him from catching Nick up on all that they were doing.

The nurse poured another potion for him to take. These were different than the ones that she usually gives him. He knew it was mostly because of the fact that his usual potions take mandrake, something that they were desperately running out of.

“When will the mandrakes be done?” Edward asked as he looked across the hospital ward at the frozen statues. Poppy shrugged tiredly.

“Pomona says any day now, but they will do no good if we can’t stop the monster.” A knock on the hospital ward door distracted the nurse. She tightened down her helmet and lifted her wand to go see who was at the door. While anyone would have been a fool to think that the monster would knock before entering, Edward understood her need for control over those trying times. He respected her courage and dedication to her patients. It made even an immortal alchemist feel safe.

Edward listened to the mumbles of voices as he sipped on his potion. His recovery from using the souls was slower than the last but the punishment of getting confined to the hospital ward at least saved him from the nagging of the stone.

“We told you to rest. Instead, you went to fight off a herd of acromantulas,” Hohenheim scolded him.

“You meant I fought off the acromantulas. Fullmetal just used me as cannon fodder,” Roy complained bitterly. Edward chuckled at his commanding officer’s lament. Even after a thousand years he still enjoyed being the bane of that man’s existence.

Suddenly a letter was being shoved into his face and Edward looked up to see Harry and Ron standing across from his hospital bed with Sock resting impatiently on their shoulders. It seemed that though Poppy ran a tight ship begrudgingly allowed some guests into the hospital ward. While Edward was not surprised to see them alive as Mustang had checked up on them after dropping him off in the hospital ward, he was not happy to see them there.

“Your owl came back, and Professor McGonagal sent us up to deliver it,” Harry said. Edward took the letter gratefully and then immediately smacked the two with it.

“You damn bobolynes!” he scolded them quietly. “Running around in the woods at night. It is like you want to get yourselves killed!”

“Bobolynes?” Ron asked in confusion which just made Edward smack him again with the letter.

“Idiots!” he clarified as Sock landed on his head, getting out of range of his weaponized correspondence. “I already told you before with that whole potion incident. This is none of your concern!”

“But Hagrid’s our friend and Hermione was attacked-“ Harry tried to defend but only got smacked once more as well.

“And you are children!” Edward yelled at them. “When will you learn to trust that adults are there to help you?”

“Sounds familiar to a scolding we once got,” he heard Alphonse reminisce. For better or for worse, these three Gryffindors were just like he was when he was younger.

“Professor, thank you… for saving us that is,” Ron said honestly, making Edward stop his rant. The kid looked pale after remembering what had happened in the forest a few nights ago. Along with being face to face with his worse fear, Ron had almost been bitten by one of the giant spiders had Edward not shoved him out of the way. He could still remember the large fang piercing his chest. Anyone but him would have died and it seemed the redhead was still coming to terms with that. Edward pinched his brow in aggravation.

“Are you two alright?” he settled for after finding himself unable to put his anger into any more useful words. The two kids nodded their heads sheepishly. In all of his frustration, Edward was at least relieved that they all got out in one piece. He couldn’t even begin to fathom why Hagrid thought it was a good idea to send children into the heart of an acromantula web.

“Good. Now, never let me catch you doing something stupid like this again,” he threatened. The two kids nodded their heads furiously as they sensed that it was not an empty threat. They took their house point deductions with grace and with a final scolding Edward sent them off to see their friend. They scurried off to Granger’s bedside, ashamed and upset that their attempts to help were in vain. Edward knew that feeling well. While they had risked everything going into the forest, they were nowhere closer to finding out what the monster was nor where it was lurking.

Sock pecked him on the head angrily and Edward cursed as the dang owl brought him back to the letter he was holding. It was rather heavy letter being made of several piece of parchment. The scratchy signature Edward recognized instantly from old field notes he used to write in the field.

“Edward, it’s from Newt! He responded!” Alphonse exclaimed. Edward knew his excitement as he realized his friend had sent a response with urgency. Sock had flown all the way to Dorset and back within the span of just a few days to get him that letter. Knowing that he promised the small owl a few treats, he took the thing off his head.

“You know where the bag is on my desk, have the whole thing and rest. You did good,” he said to the thing. His honesty was met with another harsh peck on his hand as the owl flew out of the opened window of the hospital ward. Alphonse commented something about being nicer to the blasted bird but what else could he do? He was already giving the dang thing his entire paycheck in treats. He let his brother talk eagerly about proper owl care as he opened the letter and began to read.

Mr. Edward Elric,

 I am glad to hear that you managed to find your brother, though it took a lot longer than I bet you were hoping. My misadventures probably didn’t do you any favors, especially after you fell into the canyon. I am glad to hear that you are all in one piece and doing well. Not many creatures can claim that.

Your letter was a surprise and of great concern. I understand the difficulty of getting a first edition copy of my book because I made sure that it was difficult to come by. I bought most copies myself to get them off the shelf but I must have missed the one in my very own school library. The page which was undoubtedly torn out was about Basilisks. There is no other creature that I know of that can match the phenomena you had written in your letter. It’s a manmade monstrosity which is why I omitted it from any future editions of the book. Too many people decided to try and breed them themselves.

I enclosed the original transcript from the book below, but I must warn you that if you suspect the castle is infested by a basilisk, there are only two remedies: the cry of a rooster, or to run. You know me as a friend who cares for all creatures. That must make this message all the more concerning. Basilisks are not to be trifled with and whomever is unleashing this beast doubly so. Evacuate the school immediately. I will be advising the ministry on your behalf about this  

God speed and give your owl an extra treat for me.

Respectfully, Your Friend,

Newt Scamander

Edward sat back in shock as he finished his friend’s letter. A Basilisk. It was a basilisk. Edward riffled through the letter and scanned the transcribed page of the book. Spiders flee from it, a deadly stare, lived for hundreds of years. Yes. It was a basilisk, and they were in more trouble than they thought.

He scrambled out of bed, stuffing the letter into his pocket and bee lining it towards the doors. Minerva would be either in the headmaster’s office or her own. He needed to warn her immediately to evacuate the school.

“Mr. Elric, you can’t leave. You’re still-“ Poppy tried to stop him as he moved to leave the ward. He sent her one determined glare and the woman instantly bit her lip, backing down.

He tore through the corridors of the castle towards the stairs still debating on whether to head up to the headmaster’s office or down to Minerva’s. Students scattered as they saw him and he ordered everyone he passed to get back to their dormitories quickly. This wasn’t the time to be caught out now that he knew there was a basilisk on the loose.  

“But if it kills with its stare, how come everyone is petrified?” Alphonse asked him as he skirted around a corner, nearly falling into the open door of the armory. He grabbed a sword off one of the suits that Peeves was actively dismantling. Though he didn’t know if it would be useful, he knew it was better than not having one at all.

“Maybe… no one looked at it,” he huffed as he continued to run. “There was water on the floor and then the mirror… Could have been the reflection diluting its lethality.”

“But what about that Hufflepuff student?”

“Sir Porpington must have been in the way,” he said as he turned down a back corridor opting to check Minerva’s office first. He would tell her, they would evacuate the school, and an extermination team will come in. Everything would be fine. Just as he was running down the second-floor hallway, a haunting whisper pulled him to a stop.

“Hsst Shashe, eressto ska eustae.” The chill of the voice sent a ripple up his spine.

“Not now,” Edward breathed. The voice followed him as he ran. Now that he knew what was on the other side, he felt a fear fill him. The stone grew unsettled. With the whispered worries filling his ears from the stone, all he could do was run faster. He needed to get to McGonagall.

He turned around the corner and screeched to a halt. Outside of the girl’s bathroom stood the young Ginny Weasley. Edward knew her from his first-year class. While she was quiet and nervous most of the time, what he saw of her now greatly disturbed him. Her hands were coated in gaudy red paint as she carved a message onto the walls. Her skin was pale, and her eyes blankly transfixed on the work in front of her. She didn’t react as he approached. She was fully entranced.

“Ginny…. Ginny!” Edward cried as he grabbed the girl by the shoulders. She blinked blearily as Edward shook her and she woke up from whatever daze she was under. He scanned her for any injuries but aside from looking like she was on the verge of death, she was fine.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he looked over his shoulder. The whispers of the Basilisk still filled the hallways and made him even more paranoid as they stood there. The girl’s eyes started to well up and she began crying. She threw her arms around him and hugged him, desperate to soothe the fear that was in her. Edward could feel her shaking in his arms. She was terrified.

“Professor… Professor, I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” she stumbled.

“Hey, it’s alright. Come on. You need to go to the hospital ward. It’s not safe-“

“No! Professor, it’s coming. It’s coming. It’s after you.”

“Me?” Edward asked in shock and the girl just cried harder.

“I-I tried to warn them but… but my brothers wouldn’t listen. I… I can’t remember. I can’t remember but… The chamber… it wants you.”

“The chamber? But…,” Edward gasped as he read what Ginny was writing on the wall.

‘The heir will be immortalized forever.’ His chest tightened as he held onto her. This girl was writing a death message on the walls. She was the heir. She was the one opening the chamber. A roar of complaints picked up in the stone as the thought was completely inconceivable. Edward closed his eyes as he grew confused in the flurry of the stone’s fear. How could it be her? She was a gentle, young, nervous first year. She was not capable of doing this, could she?

“Weasley, are you... did you open the chamber?” he asked quietly, needing to know the truth.

“I.. I’m sorry… sorry,” Edward heard her cry. “I don’t remember…. I thought I was dreaming…. A nightmare… then I wake up and its true. It’s coming. I know it is. It’s coming.” She started to panic.

“Come on. It’s okay. I am going to sort this out, but you need to get to the hospital ward and-“ Edward started to consol but suddenly she screamed. He turned around just to come face to face with a giant serpent. Yellow eyes pierced into him. His chest tightened and the air got caught in his lungs. He felt like he was going to suffocate in fear.

“Edward, look away, it’s killing you!” Edward closed his eyes and tore his gaze off the deadly stare of the Basilisk just as it started to charge through the corridor. The air returned to his lungs as the image of yellow faded from his eyes. He heard the sliding of scales against the stone floor charging closer and closer.

“Professor!” Ginny cried. He tightened his grip on the sword and moved to get his student behind him but before he could defend them, he was shoved hard out of the way. He smacked into the hard wall just as the long body of the snake sped by. There was a scream and Edward looked up to see the snake ensnare his student. It spun around and bolted down the corridor, carrying its prey in its coils.

“Ginny!” Edward roared as he stood up. He slashed out at the monster, but the tail whipped out and slammed him back into the wall once more. His head smacked against the stone and stars filled his vision. He collapsed to the ground dazed, the stone roared in his ears and when he blinked the stars away the corridor was empty.

“No, No,” he wheezed and staggered to his feet. The basilisk was gone and so was his student. He staggered down the hallway, reeling in his spinning head as he tried to find some sign of the monster. The beast was huge. 50ft at least and yet in the narrow hallway of the castle, it was gone. He cursed and cursed as he ran, opening every door he could, begging to find his student. She was so scared. He couldn’t let that monster take her.

“Where the hell did it go?!” he roared, the fear of losing another student settled like a knife in his chest. He was right there. He should have seen where they went. They shouldn’t have been able to go far. And yet, there was nothing. They were gone.

……….

“All students get to your dormitories immediately. Teachers to the staff room. Now!” Harry and Ron heard Edward’s voice magically amplify through the castle. He sounded angry, desperate, and that in an immortal man wasn’t a good sign. Despite their promise to Edward to stop meddling they had just figured out what the monster was in the chamber of secrets. They had found Hermione’s note jumbled in her hand. It was a basilisk, and it travelled through the plumbing. Taking their professor’s advice, they had immediately run to the staff room to find Professor McGonagall as it was almost break and they knew she liked to spend some time in there.

The staffroom was empty when they got there but they knew after the announcement that it wouldn’t be for long. Harry looked to his friend.

“It can’t be another attack, can it?”

“We should go back to the dormitory then. Professor Elric sounded off. We can’t let him catch us out again. Not after the forest,” Ron said, still feeling awful for Elric taking the fall for him with that spider. Harry understood his reluctance to bend the rules again, but they knew important information that the teachers needed to know. Spotting a wardrobe in the corner of the staff room, Harry nodded to it.

“Let’s hide in there. We can see what this is about. If they don’t know about the chamber we can tell them. If not, we won’t get caught out of the dormitories,” he offered the middle option. Ron, knowing that it was important, agreed and they hid themselves amongst the old robes in the wardrobe. Within only a few minutes, they heard the doors of the staffroom bang open and worried voices of teachers filled the room.

“Edward, what is it?” Harry heard the worried voice of Professor McGonagall ask.

“Minerva, it took a student-“ they heard Professor Elric wheeze out of breath.

“It-It what?!” Professor Flitwick gasped in shock. Harry could see him through the crack in the wardrobe sink the short distance to the floor, weak kneed in fear. Edward on the other hand looked completely in disarray, far from what he had looked like when he left the hospital ward earlier. He had red paint smeared on his face and robes. It was a similar scene as to when they stumbled upon him in the corridor after Halloween. This time though, he looked distraught and rightfully so. Harry stole a glance at Ron who was equally as worried.   

“It’s a basilisk. That’s the monster. I saw it with my own eyes. It’s what’s been attacking Hogwarts and it took a student-“

“It took a student? Who is it?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Ginny Weasley.” Harry felt Ron collapse silently next to him to the floor of the wardrobe. He was stunned in shock. Murmurs picked up amongst the faculty as Edward explained to them what had happened.

“I was on my way to find you Minerva but… I tried to stop it but… I don’t know where they went. They’re gone.” Professor McGonagall was a Gryffindor true and true. Harry never knew a scarier woman and yet he saw in her for the first time trepidation.

“I want all the House Heads to go to the dormitories and have the students pack their things. We will send them all home in the morning,” she ordered the faculty grimly. “This is the end of Hogwarts-“

Her words were cut off as the staffroom door was thrown open again. It reverberated as it bashed into the wall with little worry as to whom was behind it. Harry had secretly hoped it was Dumbledore returning to save the school but unfortunately it was Lockhart.

“So sorry to be late. I was just tidying up in the bathroom. What did I miss? I am sure I can have this all sorted in a jiffy,” the Professor said, all smiles to him. The frightened air that filled the room, to Harry’s surprise turned sour as he entered. A snarl grew on Professor Elric’s face as it looked like he was going to pounce on the man. Ron seemed to be in agreeance with him as Harry had to hold him back from busting out of the wardrobe.

“Thank god you are here,” Snape said, holding Elric back by the neck of his cape. The rest of the faculty looked at the potion’s professor in surprise. Harry did too as he never heard the man be grateful in his life. “You are the very man we need.” Lockhart smiled and tugged thoughtfully at the cuff of his robe.

“Of course I am. What is this little problem you got the school worked up about. I am sure it is something that I can handle.”

“A girl has been snatched by the monster and taken to the Chamber of Secrets. You said you knew where the entrance was at dinner last night.”

“I…I did? I don’t remember-“

“Yes you did!” Professor Sprout chipped in to jog his memory. Lockhart’s smug smile wilted as the other faculty added their recurrence of their past conversations.

“Well, if you remember it like that-“

“Then we are in agreeance. Gilderoy, we will leave it to you. Tonight you can tackle the monster all by yourself,” McGonagall said. “You can save the school.” Harry thought that Lockhart was about to faint with how pale he became. The man looked around desperately for help but no one aided him. He backed up, his bold entrance now replaced with a rather feeble and flundered retreat.

“Of course…. What… whatever you say. I’ll-I’ll be in my office getting ready then,” Lockhart said, his bravado wavering in his voice. He quickly scurried out of the room with the tails of his robes tucked between his legs. The instant he was gone, the other faculty let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Severus,” McGonagall said gratefully. “Now that we don’t have to worry about having him under out boots, we can make this evacuation as quick as possible. Heads of houses go to the dormitories. All other faculty, search every crevice of the castle. We need to make sure that no student is left behind.” With their orders, the other faculty members drew in what courage they could and left one by one. As the last few teachers were filing out, Elric approached McGonagall.

“Minerva, we need to send someone to find that girl. She pushed me out of the way of that beast. She said it was after me and saved me from being taken. We can’t just leave her,” he said, concern filling his voice.

“It was after you?” she asked in shock and Elric nodded his head. McGonagall’s face tightened in thought. “May I talk to you in the headmaster’s office, Edward?” she said after a moment. “I need to tell you something.” No sooner did the two of them leave the staffroom than Harry and Ron tumble out of the wardrobe.

“My sister, Harry. It’s got my bloody sister,” Ron trembled. “I mean… she’s a pureblood. It.. shouldn’t have taken her. She should have been safe.”

“Professor Elric said that she pushed him out of the way. She might not have been the target,” he reassured him though he didn’t know how much that fact help. Ginny was still gone. While Professor Elric was certain that she was still alive when she was taken, Harry didn’t know how long she would survive. The basilisk could eat her or the very least look at her and it would all be over. He didn’t know how reassuring that was at all.

“We need to see Lockhart. Tell him what we know. He’s going to try and save her,” Ron said firmly. Despite wanting to obey the rules and return to the common room before the staff meeting, it seemed that that didn’t matter anymore now that his sister was in danger. While the faculty appeared to at least know it was a Basilisk, Harry and Ron knew at the very least where the Chamber might be. Hermione had thought of everything before she had become petrified. They could help by leading Lockhart in the right direction then let the teachers take it from there. Not willing to sit in the common room and do nothing, Harry agreed.

They carefully snuck through the hallways, dodging the faculty members who were searching the crevices of the castle for missing students. Lockhart’s office was on the second floor right down the hall from the girl’s bathroom. They slipped quietly up the staircase. The dark red message on the corridor wall sent shivers up their spine. The paint was still fresh. It wasn’t long since the attack and yet they felt all the more like they were running out of time.

When they got to the office, someone was definitely inside as they heard loud thumps and worried mutters through the door. Harry reached out and knocked, the noise going silent.

“Oh.. uh.. Potter… You’re supposed to be in your dormitory,” Lockhart said after he opened the door to see them on the other side.

“Professor, we got information for you that we think will help-“

“Are you packing?” Ron cut him off. Harry looked at where his friend was furiously pointing into the man’s office. It was true. The room had been completely torn apart from its lavished decorations and two large trunks stood open, haphazardly stuffed with whatever the professor could find.

“Er, well, yes,” Lockhart stumbled to excuse himself. “I had an urgent call… from the ministry! Yes. I need to go.”

“But… my sister! You’re supposed to help her!”

“No one regrets more than I the loss of your sister but I have an unavoidable appointment that I-“

“She’s not dead!” Ron roared. “You’re running away! You’re supposed to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and now you’re running away!”

“Professor, why are you doing this? After all the stuff in your books-“

“They can be misleading,” Lockhart defended.

“You wrote them!” Ron started to roll up his sleeves, ready to fight a man nearly twice their age. Lockhart took an intimidated step back before Harry could hold his friend back by the hem of his robe.

“They were just exaggerations. Story tellings of other great wizards who didn’t have the face for the press. I simply borrowed their stories to make them more believable. You wouldn’t think a scrooge of a witch could have fought off a werewolf. Me on the other hand? Now that’s a hero!” Lockhart chuckled nervously.

“You’re a fraud!” Harry exclaimed in awe as he suddenly connected the dots. Lockhart shrugged his shoulders knowing he was caught.

“Harry, forget what Professor Elric said. This teacher isn’t going to help us. We should just save Ginny ourselves,” Ron scoffed.

“What a great idea. You know that Professor Elric is Paracelsus? It’s hard to argue with that ancient wisdom of his-“

“He’s not ancient!” they scolded Lockhart together. Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the buffoon of a man and his friend did the same. What little courage the professor had went out the window as he was under the guard of two wands.

“Come on, boys,” Lockhart nervously stammered as he put his hands up in surrender. “It isn’t like I could save her. I don’t even know where the chamber is. There is nothing I can really do here.”

“You are in luck, Professor,” Harry said cooly. “We think we do know where it is. Let’s go.”

……………………

“Stop scratching your face,” Winry scolded him and Edward grabbed the edge of his red cloak instead, forcing his hands to wring it instead of his face. He felt the dried red paint on him where the girl had accidentally smeared it. It was fresh but slowly drying. Time was running out.

“Edward, what you are saying is concerning. Are you certain that Weasley said it wanted you?” Minerva asked. Edward nodded his head. “Did she say what for?”

“Professor Slytherin had wanted to use my alchemy and my immortality before to cleanse the school. I am sure, if he truly had made this chamber, that he still intends for me to do it,” he answered honestly.

“But… how would they-“

“Minerva, it wouldn’t be the first time I would be someone else’s weapon. I have killed armies in the crusades under the hand of King Arthur,” he admitted to her. A look of shock fell over her and Edward looked away in shame. He didn’t want to tell her that. While he told stories of the crusades in the history of magic class, he could never bring himself to tell the true casualties of war that were a result of his hand. Even more, it hurt to admit it to a friend.

“Slytherin sold me back to the King the first time,” he continued despite his friend’s horror. “He might be dead but his Heir still exists. Weasley was the one who opened the chamber, but I don’t think she is the heir. Whomever is, intends to clean the school. They need to be stopped.”

“In that case, I need you to evacuate with the students. I can’t have them try again,” Minerva ordered him stiffly.

“Weasley is still down there. She’s still alive. I need to go down and save her-“

“Edward, I can’t have you go down there knowing that you’re the target. If what you said is true, I can’t let you be used like a weapon again! I won’t! You need to protect yourself and the castle and leave with the students,” she cut him off sternly.

“Protect myself? I am immortal! Who’s going to protect her? Lockhart?!” Edward exclaimed, distraught. “She was so scared, Minerva. I can’t just leave her to die!” Minerva bit her lip, but there didn’t seem to be another way around it. Either Edward risked falling into the hands of the heir all over again just to save one girl, or they saved the castle and let her die. Edward remembered the terror in his student’s eyes as she hugged him. The girl was terrified and he failed to protect her. However, there didn’t seem to be a right choice in the matter.

“Edward, I know you always try to save everyone. It’s something you haven’t grown out of, but sometimes this is just how it is,” his father tried to reason with him. Edward didn’t want to hear it. It couldn’t be true. Not now. As he looked around for some sort of answer, he spotted a faint glimmer out of the corner of his eye. It was the Mirror of Erised.

“There is something I have to tell you, Edward,” Minerva sighed tiredly as she seemed to catch onto what he was thinking. She walked over to the mirror and right before him, she slipped her hand through the glass and withdrew the mask. Edward felt the air leave his lungs as his eyes widened in shock. Minerva knew the mask was there. Seeing the cool twisted metal, Edward couldn’t help but take a staggering step back from her.  

“Before Albus had left, he told me it was here and how to get it. I didn’t understand why he would tell me, but I guess now I do,” she said worriedly. “He wanted me to be able to have it incase… incase it was ever needed.” She moved back over to him but Edward kept his distance. He didn’t understand why she would need it. What was she going to do? Try to trap him in order to force him to leave? Subdue him before he becomes a weapon? He shook his head. No. That wasn’t like her. She was his friend. She couldn’t have pulled the mask out if she was going to use it. That wasn’t how the mirror worked. Yet, it wouldn’t have been the first time that Albus lied to him.

“Minerva,” he whispered cautiously, the muscles in his body stiff. Minerva shook her head in despair but instead of trying to trap him in it, she simply set it down on the headmaster’s desk.

“Go, save that girl, Edward,” she ordered him softly. “If… If anything goes wrong… you don’t have to worry about being used. You will be okay.” Edward found his jaw dropping as Minerva had told him that she would be there for him. She would have the mask not to control him but to subdue him in the event that he should be controlled. He wouldn’t have to worry about hurting anyone.

Throughout the school year, many times Minerva had to make the choice to see him as either a person or a weapon. Every single time she chose right. Edward found him closing the few steps between them and hugging the young witch. Minerva gasped in surprise but slowly returned the gesture warmly. He was ashamed to have ever doubted her for there was nothing he was more grateful for than to have a friend like her.

“I think that was enough of that,” Minerva sniffled stiffly, as she straightened out her hat. She seemed moved just as much as she was. “You can’t wait here all day. If you can’t help that girl, no one can.” Edward nodded his head, taking her order and left. He ran down the steps of the headmaster’s tower and through the corridors of the castle. Time was of the essence and he knew that there was a student counting on him to help her.

“Brother, do you know where the Chamber is? Even though we know the monster is a basilisk, how do you know where to find her?”  Alphonse asked anxiously.

“I am not sure but… If this chamber is as precious to Slytherin as I think, he wouldn’t want it to leave his sight,” he said.

“His office? But the castle changed. It’s no longer here.”

“Not quite,” he said as he pulled to a stop outside the second-floor bathroom.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter and the Eastern Sage

CHAPTER 41

The Chamber of Secrets

The second floor girls bathroom was only a ghost of what it used to be as Slytherin’s office. Mirrors replaced bookshelves, the professor’s herpetarium of the world’s deadliest snakes was replaced by toilet stalls, and in the place of his large ornate desk stood tower sinks. While the overall green gothic aesthetic remained, the entire place was in disrepair.

“I wonder what happened,” he heard his brother question just for the others in the stone to remind him that someone had died there. Edward scanned the walls and floors hoping to find anything that resembled a trap door or lever, or something. There had to be a way for a giant basilisk to vanish into thin air.

“Think like Slytherin. Where would he put the entrance to his own private asylum?” Roy asked. Edward wanted anything but to think like that slime of a man, but he turned around and thought, imagining the layout of the old office. While he spent most of his time in Ravenclaw’s office, Slytherin did not leave him alone after he found out he was immortal. The man kept pulling him for herpetology lessons or punishments when he didn’t have the strength nor potions to force him down into the dungeon. He could probably recreate the man’s office just from his memory.

“He wouldn’t have put it behind his snakes. Moving them would have been too much of a pain,” Edward muttered as he moved away from the far wall.

“The bookshelves?” his brother suggested. Edward looked at the opposite side where the giant panel mirror hung. Salazar had piles of textbooks on the dark arts, but while he liked to read, he wasn’t anything like Ravenclaw.

“I don’t know. I don’t think his focus would be there. Besides, the charm’s classroom is beyond that wall. There isn’t much mobility there,” he replied. As he gave up on that idea, suddenly the door to the bathroom swung open and three people Edward really didn’t want to see came stumbling in.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you to stop meddling!” Edward scolded the two Gryffindors.

“We tried to follow your advice, but Lockhart here wanted to run away instead of help us!” Ron retorted as he shoved Gilderoy forward. The man looked pathetic. He was wandless and didn’t know what to do with himself without his magical crutch.

“I said get an adult. Not an idiot disguised as one!” Edward growled, pinching his brow in frustration.

“Hey, I will have you know-“

“Can it, nimrod!” he snapped. “You two should be in your dormitories. It isn’t safe for you here.” He was not ready to deal with Gilderoy’s stupidity then nor was he ready to fight a basilisk and babysit three children. He had to find the entrance to the chamber. He couldn’t waste time with this mess.

 “Professor, that’s why we are here. We think we know where the chamber is!” Harry defended, desperate to be heard. “The basilisk is going through the pipes.”

“This is a bathroom, Potter! Everything is pipes!” Edward exclaimed. “I don’t think you can fit a 50ft snake down the toilet.”

“Well, what about the sink?” Ron suggested dumbly. Edward opened his mouth to snap at the dumb suggestion but froze as he glanced over at the ring of tower sinks. While only an idiot would think that a 50ft basilisk could fit down the sink drain, the pipes probably joined and went somewhere. The sinks were the largest structure in the room. Not only that but that was where Slytherin’s desk had sat. Salazar’s ego wouldn’t have let him put the entrance anywhere else. He could sit there, on his throne, and carefully watch over the entrance without moving from his desk.

Edward stumbled over to the sinks and examined them closely, the students gathered around him. It looked like a normal sink but he turned the spigots yet no water came out.

“They aren’t hooked up,” his brother gasped.

“That means the pipes are empty,” he muttered.

“Those things never worked,” a bitter voice said behind him. Edward turned around to see Myrtle Warren. He didn’t talk too much to her as she secluded herself to the bathroom’s toilet. His surprise must have been obvious as she sighed dramatically. “Finally remembered the dead girl in the toilet,” she muttered.

“Myrtle, you were the girl who died here the first time the chamber was opened right?” Harry asked.

“Ooooh, it was dreadful, Harry,” the ghost said as a silver blush fell over her. It seemed she was flattered to be asked that as though no one was ever curious as to how she died. “I was crying because Hornby teased me about my glasses when I heard someone come in and say something weird in a different language. It was a boy. I thought he came to tease me further so I go and tell him to bugger off and then…. Well… I died.”

“How?” Ron asked. Myrtle shrugged.

“All I remember was a pair of big yellow eyes, over by that sink. Then, I was dead,” she answered. Edward looked down at the sink that she pointed at and engraved in the side of the tap was the delicate form of a tiny snake. If that wasn’t a sign he didn’t know what was.

“Thank you, Myrtle,” he said honestly, making her smile for probably the first time in years.

“Anything for Harry,” she said before giving the kid a wink and flying off.

“Come on Harry. Say something in snake,” Ron encouraged. “If the snake can open it, it has to be in Parseltongue.” Harry looked skeptical, but no sooner than he opened his mouth did a hissing noise escape him. To Edward’s shock, the floors started to move and the sinks in front of them parted away, tucking into the stonework. What had once held the wash station, now was a deep dark hole in the ground. Edward inched forward to see the bottom but the inky blackness dug deep into his chest. He found his lungs tightening as he imagined the chute down leading him right into the dark dungeons below.

“Now’s not the time to be scared. It’s not the same,” Roy scolded him as he took a couple of steps back to regain his breath. The cold claustrophobic feeling of shackles loosened as the others took their turn to examine the entrance. How he wished that he had taken some spare potions with him.

“So, who’s going first?” Lockhart chuckled nervously, obviously hoping it wasn’t going to be him. Without warning, Ron gave the man a sharp kick from where he was kneeling near the entrance and Gilderoy lost his balance, tumbling headfirst into the void. His fear filled screams dwindled until they disappeared in the distance.

“Come on,” Harry said as he moved to jump in after him. Edward bolted and blocked their way to the chamber entrance.

“You are not going anywhere,” he hissed as he tried to steady his breathing. “I didn’t even want Gilderoy here but now I am stuck with him. You two on the other hand are going to march back to your dormitories.”

“But Professor, I need to save my sister!” Ron argued.

“I will save your sister. You will just get underfoot, and I cannot let you get hurt as well.”

“Harry’s a Parselmouth though,” Ron defended. “What if you run into another locked door? You’re gonna need him to open it.”

“I have alchemy to unlock doors!” Edward smarted back. The two kids looked down fallen as Edward refused to give into their arguments. He knew that they only wanted to help but they did more than enough, far more than they should have. He couldn’t risk them getting hurt. Seeing their defeat, Edward moved to turn them towards the door but as soon as he took a step, Harry bolted forward and dove down chute after Lockhart. Edward turned to grab him but he was quickly consumed by the blackened void.

 He cursed and tried to go after him, but his feet wouldn’t move. Why couldn’t he move? Another student was down in the chamber. He needed to save them and yet even after months of building up his courage, he could barely stand to be inface of the dungeons.

“Come on, come on!”  he urged himself but it did little to move him. Like always he needed time, but that was something he just didn’t have then. A hand rested on his shoulder and Edward nearly jumped out of his skin. Ron looked to him with concern.

“Professor, are you alright?” he asked, worried.

“Yes! I am fine! I’m fine!” he bit back in irritation. “I will stop that monster and save your sister. You don’t have to worry.”

“I know you will, Professor,” Ron said honestly before giving Edward a sharp unexpected shove. A curse escaped his lips as he lost his balance and tumbled down into the chamber opening. He scrambled to grab onto some sort of hand hold as he slid down the chute but the slimy walls were relentless. Down, down, and further down he went, far below the castle until suddenly the tunnel opened and he was spat out into a stone chamber. He hit the ground with a smack. He groaned and cursed the red-headed student until he opened his eyes where he instantly froze.

Metal bars guarded the dark and damp stone walls around him. Edward felt his breath hitch in his throat as he stared at the dungeon around him.

“Brother, it’s not the same.”

“Edward, you need to breathe,” Roy ordered.

“Professor, are you okay?” Harry’s voice said. Edward blinked and looked over to where the young wizard was watching him with concern. He closed his eyes and nervously nodded his head, taking in several focused deep breaths to soothe his fear. He was underground. Breathe. He needed to save that girl. Breathe. People were with him. Breathe. He was not in the dungeons. With the encouragement of the people in the stone, he got up from the ground and held his shaking hands tightly to himself to calm them.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he tried to brush off shakily, embarrassed by his own phobia. He hadn’t realized that this would be a barrier for him.

“You came far but its still something to overcome,” Hohenheim said. Edward silently begged them to continue to talk to him as the chatter held his focus away from the memories. He took another few focused breaths as he heard the screams of his other student arriving.

Ron tumbled down the pipe as well and fell down with less grace than he did. The kid’s spellotape wand and his left shoe flying in opposite directions as he landed. Edward grabbed the kid by the robes, lifting him to his feet.

“You two need to leave,” Edward ordered them.

“But professor, we just got there. Besides how are we supposed to get back up by ourselves?” Ron complained but Edward simply clapped his hands and transmuted climbing rungs into the side of the chute. “Oh,” was all Ron had to say about that.

“Professor Elric-“

“No buts!” he snapped as he recovered the kid’s left shoe and tossed it back at him. “You shouldn’t be here! I understand you want to help but-“

“The adventure ends here, boys!” Gilderoy suddenly shouted. Edward looked over to see him wave Ron’s lost wand around. He looked crazed, desperate, having been dragged too far by these dang kids. While he knew that Gilderoy was an idiot, that incompetency could only go so far before it became dangerous.

“Thank you for my exit, I now will be taking my leave,” Gilderoy smiled his winning smile cheaply as he jerked the wand, motioning them to get away from the entrance. Edward pulled the two students out of the way behind him as Gilderoy held them at wand point.

“I am going to go back up and tell them I was too late to save the girl, that the two students here lost their mind after seeing her mangled bodies.”

“And what about Professor Elric?” Ron asked. “Your stupid spell won’t work on him.” The kid didn’t know that but Edward didn’t want to test his theory to find out. The professor smirked, not seeming to care whether or not his plan worked just as long as he could make his story.

“Well, the snake ate him obviously. He was not a match for the beast and I had to reseal the chamber to prevent its escape,” Gilderoy taunted. Edward glared at the man as his hand itched to his wand hidden in his robe. He needed to get them out of there. Gilderoy lifted the tape coated wand in the air with a manic gleam in his eyes.

“Say good-bye to your memories, boys!” As he brought the wand clumsily down Edward whipped his own wand out and casted a revulsion jinx causing Lockhart to drop his wand halfway through the spell. The wand exploded and tore through the tunnels, everyone dove out of the way, Edward tackling Harry to the ground. The stonework of the tunnel cracked as the ceiling collapsed, filling the tunnel with rubble and stone.

“Potter, are you okay?” Edward croaked as he coughed through the dust of the collapse. The kid coughed and threw him a thumbs up as he tried to recover himself. He looked back behind him and only saw a pile of rubble where his other student once was.

“Weasley! Are you alive over there? Weasley!” he shouted. There was a short pause and a slight fear picked up in him as he thought that his other student might not have been as lucky as they were.  

“Yeah,” he heard Ron shout. “I think I broke my leg!”

“Hold on, I am going to transmute the rubble away,” he called out. Edward stumbled over to the pile of rock that separated them and assessed the walls. As he took a closer look at them now, he saw just how deteriorated the tunnels were. They were ancient and not maintained, probably having existed since the beginning of the castle. Using alchemy might be difficult if he didn’t want to cause another collapse. Taking note of the weak points, Edward clapped his hands and shifted the stone to reinforce the weakened areas. The reaction was slow to avoid sudden rock shifts but eventually the tunnel was cleared again.

On the other side, Edward saw the unconscious body of Gilderoy discarded by the entrance while Ron was sitting up, alert, but his leg trapped under a large rock. He casted a levitation spell and moved the rock off of him and then proceeded to assess his student for injuries. Ron winced as Edward rolled up his pant leg to get a better look at his broken leg. Unlike Lockhart’s botched attempt to heal Harry’s arm, the bones in Ron’s leg easily shifted back to their original places with a healing charm.

“Professor, are you alright?” Ron gritted through the pain, he looked worried for him.

“I am immortal. I am fine,” he reminded him.

“Your hands are shaking,” he noted. Edward looked down at where his hands were propping up the kid’s leg to examine his work. Despite his best efforts, they were still shaking from being down in the dungeons. He took another deep breath and shook them out, trying his best to get them to calm down.

“This is why I didn’t want you to come,” he bit as he helped Ron to his feet. “Not everything can be healed with magic or alchemy. You can die down here. Don’t you get that?”

“We do, Professor, but my sister is in danger. I can’t leave her by herself.”

“We can help. I can open doors, Ron can-“

“Weasley doesn’t even have a usable wand!” Edward snapped at Harry. “I am done wasting time arguing about this.” Harry stood firm, resistant to Edward’s orders and need for him to go back to the castle. The child was infuriating. He would alchemize the kid to the wall if he wasn’t scared it would collapse on him.

“Fullmetal, there isn’t enough time to keep arguing. You need to go. Take them with you or tie them up. That girl isn’t going to last much longer if she is still alive.” The Colonel was right. He couldn’t keep wasting time. He needed to move.

“Fine, fine,” he growled as he massaged the headache out of his head. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was going to be worse than Hagrid at childcare. “Weasley, you are in no state to help here. You are going to go back to McGonagall’s office and explain what is going on. Send someone to help with Lockhart. You can help in that way.” The redhead seemingly accepted defeat, knowing that he was in no state to fight. Harry opened his mouth to argue again but Edward snapped his finger at him.

“You are coming with me, but you need to listen to everything I say. No complaints, no nothing. If I tell you to run, you will run. There is no time for heroics when we are trying to survive.” Harry nodded his head eagerly.

“Very well,” Edward breathed heavily. While he wasn’t too enthused to be taking a child into a literal snake den, they needed to press on. Not only that but maybe Harry was onto something about using Parseltongue instead of alchemy. At least if the tunnels continued to be in this state of disrepair, he needed to be careful with his alchemy. He would have to make due and pray to whatever god was in this universe that they would all make it out alive.

Ron wished them luck and they parted ways, Ron up the tunnel towards the castle, Edward and Harry down the tunnel towards their doom. Edward walked carefully, keeping his student behind him and his wand out. Though he was rusty with magic it seemed like he would have to rely on it a bit more now. The deeper they got, the darker and colder it became. Edward felt his mind drawing towards the cold winter nights in the dungeon before the souls of the stone scolded him. With shaky hands, he pressed on.

It felt about a mile they walked until the tunnel approached a doorway. This wasn’t some sewer entrance but a rather elaborate door, covered in copper snakes. Now, Edward was sure that they were heading in the right direction. He glanced at the walls and noted them to be in even worse shape than the one by the entrance.

“Potter, you are going to have to open this one,” he said calmly to Harry who looked utterly lost.

“What should I say?” the kid asked. It was obvious that Parseltongue was new to him as he didn’t seem to have much experience talking to snakes.

“Snakes are usually quite formal when going into other’s territory. Ask politely to be let in.”

“Professor, most people don’t like Parseltongue… why do you know so much about it?” Harry asked quietly.

“Slytherin wanted to teach me Parseltongue… I never had the knack for it but that didn’t stop him from trying. To me it is just a language. There is nothing bad about that.” The kid looked surprised and despite being nervous he was brave enough to try his best. A shy hiss came out of his student’s mouth and the door, like the sinks, began to give way. The coiled serpents on the door parted and the heavy lock opened.

“Good job,” he said much to the kid’s surprise.

With bated breath they opened the door.

The chamber was magnificent. Even in the dim light, the towering stone pillars were carved with coiling serpents, each rising to a ceiling of which the precipice was lost in the darkness. Edward stared in awe. This chamber was fit for a king, a king that Slytherin probably believed himself to be. Yet, this masterpiece had been hidden beneath Edward’s feet for over the hundred years he had been at the castle.

 As they entered the large open room, Harry held tighter behind him. Despite being a brave Gryffindor, the kid was rightfully nervous of where the basilisk might be. Though made out of stone, all of the snakes appeared to be moving, an illusion carved into the artwork. Edward gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they slowly moved deeper into the darkened room. As they reached the last of the pillars, Edward could see a giant statue of Slytherin himself against the back wall of the chamber. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he saw it, knowing the man couldn’t help but stroke his own ego even in a room as marvelous as this. While years had taken its toll on the statue, the cold gaze of his old professor still held true.

“Ginny!” he heard Harry whisper sharply and suddenly his student was off running, forgetting any of the fear he might have felt before. Edward looked towards where Harry had dropped to the ground and saw a mat of flaming red hair poking out of a mass of black robes on the ground. She looked unconscious, almost dead. Harry was trying to shake her awake as Edward approached. Her head lolled hopelessly.

“Professor, she isn’t dead, right? Please say she isn’t dead,” the kid begged. Edward motioned for him to move out of the way and he knelt down beside the unconscious girl. She was small, so horribly small, and white as marble. He pressed his fingers under her jaw and against freezing cold skin he felt the faintest flutter. A breath of relief escaped him. She was alive. Barely. As he took a closer assessment of her to make sure she wasn’t visibly injured anywhere, his eyes caught site of something bulky sticking out of her robes. He pulled her outer robe open and froze as he saw the beaten black notebook that he found in his classroom a few months prior. The odd feeling that he remembered the notebook bringing him was no longer there as he curiously pulled it out of her pocket. Harry gasped upon seeing it.

“Tom’s diary-“

“Tom’s?- You know this?” Edward asked and the kid nodded his head. Though the haunting feeling that he had felt around the journal was gone, it seemed that their first assumption that it was Ginny’s journal was incorrect. While he wanted to press him further with questions, he knew it could wait. Ginny, however, could not.

 He handed the journal to Harry and returned to his other student. He tapped her face gently, hoping to wake her up. She didn’t react.

“She won’t wake,” Edward heard a strange voice suddenly say. His head whipped up to see a young man dressed in green Hogwart’s robes watching them. He looked just a couple years older than Harry but while he looked like a normal student, his figure was blurred around the edges like a cloud of mist surrounded him. Edward felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise as that haunting feeling of the journal returned. However, instead of being from the book, it now was directed towards him. It was the pulling, clawing feeling of a lost soul. It made the air in his chest still and he tightened his grip around his wand.

“Tom?” Harry breathed, surprisingly in relief.

“You know him?” Edward asked in shock. His student nodded his head. “What did you do to her?” he accused the new person, much to Harry’s shock. It seemed Harry knew him as a friend, but Edward felt like there was something more to this specter of a person. Tom grinned.

“Well, right to the point now, isn’t it? You see, she spilled her heart to me in that diary. For months I had to listen to her worries and woes, how other kids teased her, how she would never be good enough for the famous Harry Potter to ever like her. And then… a little nudge here, a little sympathy there, she fell under my spell. She did whatever I told her such as opening the Chamber of Secrets. I was her only friend after all,” he said.

“So you’re the heir,” Harry accused and the kid shrugged, guilty as charged. “Well you failed. No one has died this time.”

“Killing mudbloods doesn’t interest me anymore. I have a new target. You.” Tom raised his wand and Harry desperately searched his pockets for his own. Seeing it, Edward knew he wouldn’t find it as the wand that Tom was holding was his. Edward cursed his student for his stupidity as he had dropped his only weapon in the depths of the enemy’s lair. He rose to his feet and brandished his wand, pulling Harry behind him. This young man was the mastermind behind the Chamber and now he had his prey, defenseless, in the palm of his hand. Tom seemed to know it too.

“How is it that Harry Potter, a pathetic little child could defeat one of the greatest wizards of all time? How could you escape and yet he be left defenseless? I have been waiting this entire time, feeding and growing on that girl’s darkest secrets. Her life is what is bringing me mine. Soon… I will have enough power to find the answers I seek,”  he said. “The life of an eleven year old girl wasn’t my first choice of course. I am interested in a bit more ambitious target.” Tom’s eyes flickered over to Edward, as he toyed with a wand in his hand. Edward tensed as he realized what he had wanted. He didn’t want Ginny’s life. He wanted his.

“Potter,” Edward said slowly as he kept his wand trained on the other person, “grab Weasley and take her back to the Hospital Ward.” Tom’s smile widened.

“Oh, I can’t let you do that,” he replied calmly.

“Don’t pay attention to him. Grab Ginny and go,” he ordered again, bracing himself firmly between the other boy and his students as he saw Tom’s pacing turn animalistic. Harry looked confused but just as Edward was going to order him again, Tom’s wand flicked and a spell shot out towards them. Edward quickly brought his wand up and blocked it.

“Harry, go. NOW!” he roared as another spell came their way. Harry quickly grabbed the young girl and began dragging her away. Tom sent a spell towards him and Edward lunged into its path and blocked it once more, immediately sending a bombardment charm in return. They danced, casting spells, Edward keeping himself between Tom and his student. The more they exchanged spells, the more manic Tom became. A wide crooked smile grew on the young man’s face as Edward threw another spell at him. He skipped out of the way. Edward growled in frustration as he dueled. That kid was way too skilled with a wand, particularly with one that wasn’t his.

“Who are you?” he barked. He ducked under another spell and shot a disarming charm.

“Didn’t you hear the boy?” Tom retorted snidely.

“That doesn’t mean he was right.”

“Well, only partially,” he smugly nodded. Edward took a chance and glanced behind him. Harry was still struggling with Ginny’s unconscious body he was almost there but just needed a little more time. Edward wished him to hurry.

He whipped his head back suddenly as Tom chanted out a spell. He saw the green bolt of light too late to block it as the killing curse smacked him right in the chest.

“Edward! Stay focused!” his father scolded him. The air left his lungs, and he felt like he was choking when suddenly the feeling of dying left him. He growled in aggravation as he sent a spell immediately back. Tom dodged it and a maniacal laugh rang through the chamber.

“And they believe Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard. To you, he doesn’t even compare!” Tom shouted, elated.

“I am not a witch! I am an ALCHEMIST!” Edward roared as he clapped his hands and sent a wave of spiked stone towards the boy. The waves of rock hit him and Tom was thrown back. He hit the ground without a sound but laid unmoving.

The silence in the chamber was deafening.

“Don’t get heated and throw your alchemy everywhere. Remember the room could collapse!” his father scolded again, the nagging in his ear felt like nails.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed. He brushed his hair out of his face with a shaking hand and glanced back at his student. Harry was frozen at the entrance of the chamber staring in shock. He motioned for him to stay where he was.

He cautiously inched towards the unconscious young man. The fuzzy figure of Tom was completely unmoving, sprawled on the ground with the wand discarded by him. The closer Edward got to him the stronger that strange pulling feeling became. It was almost unbearable. Carefully, he knelt to recover his student’s wand, but suddenly Tom snapped up.

Edward yelped as Tom grabbed hold of his outstretched forehand. He tried to pull back but the man had a death grip on him.

“I believe I have won.” The boy’s twisted smile started to fade as his body began to disappear into mist. The pulling sensation that Edward had felt now pulsed through his entire body and he gasped desperately for air. Red alchemic energy tore through him and he screamed. Another soul felt like it was hammering its way into his body. The feeling was too familiar, too much like first day. His body tore itself apart, the introduction of a new soul bursting him at the seams. He could hear the stone scream, Edward’s own being lost in the chaos. As his body fought itself, something clawed in his chest and there was snap. The strength he had holding him in place gave way and he collapsed.

…….

Harry watched in horror as he saw his Professor writhe on the ground in agony. Tom had disappeared and all that was left was his teacher screaming in pain. Why did he have to drop his wand? Why did he have to trust Riddle’s lies? Now his friend was dying and his teacher who had fought for him sounded like he was being torn apart.

The screaming stopped and Harry looked up to see his professor collapse to the ground in exhaustion. He set Ginny down and quickly ran over to him, praying that he was alright. He didn’t know what he would do if both Ginny and Elric were hurt. He couldn’t carry them both. He could barely carry Ginny. And what about the basilisk? What about Tom? Harry didn’t know what to do. He needed his teacher.

“Professor, are you alright?” Harry asked nervously, as he watched his teacher get off the ground from where he was struggling in pain not moments ago. Professor Elric massaged his jaw tiredly, his motion slow and deliberate. The shake in his hand was gone.

“You should have left when he told you to,” he chuckled, his voice having lost its usual gruff irritation. It sent a shiver down Harry’s spine and he couldn’t help but take a step back. His teacher wasn’t acting like himself.

“But… Professor-“

“Oh, your professor isn’t here anymore. Haven’t you guessed, Harry?” Elric said calmly through the snake of his smile. “I am the Heir of Slytherin. I am Lord Voldemort.”