CHAPTER 1
Hello! This is my first story on and also my first attempt at writing a novel length story! Hopefully that turns out ok! If you wanna check out some other stories/fanfics of mine, my Wattpad account is RabidBookworm! I hope that this fanfic doesn't suck too much!
...
"So… what could be so important that you had to call me back in?" Ed's golden eyes glimmered with a challenge.
Roy sighed, remembering the assignment that had been given.
His dark black eyes scanned a sheets of paperwork, rereading the glossy ink words spread out onto the dull paper.
He tossed the thick files down with a thump, leaning back in his chair. Fullmetal wouldn't like this.
"You're….. Being sent to this far off country called England."
Ed blinked. Once, twice, before he finally managed to process what had come out of his commanding officer's mouth.
"WHAT?!" His mouth fell open in shock as he was sent reeling with the information.
"NO! YOU CAN'T DO THAT! WHAT ABOUT AL?!" Ed's shock contorted into fuery as stomped to his feet, whatever peace he'd felt with the man dissipating.
He'd only resumed a somewhat normal life one year ago with Al, he'd only had one year to act like pure children, to play, and enjoy the world for what it was instead of having to worry about government, homunculi, war, or any other shit like that. He couldn't just go away to a far off country now!
But, slowly, seeing the exasperated look on the other's face he calmed down to think about it for a moment.
If it was only for a short amount of time… then he could get back to Al in a jiffy. That….. Wouldn't be a problem, right?
Letting out a rather aggressive puff of air, he somehow managed to pull off the simple act of sitting down on a couch look menacing.
"Fine. But how long is this…. Trip…" Roy winced. The blonde wouldn't like what he was about to say.
The man reached up to massage his head, hands pulling through silky black hair as he did so, readying himself for the outburst that was sure to come.
"For… uh… a year or possibly even more…" He spoke cautiously, trying to minimize the damage as much as possible.
It only seemed to make it even worse.
"YOU BASTARD! I CAN'T BE AWAY FOR A WHOLE YEAR! AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN MAYBE MORE?! I CAN'T JUST LEAVE AL HE-"
Roy held up his hands, breaking the shorter off.
"And Al will be just fine. He can take care of himself."
The blonde looked murderous, razor sharp golden eyes piercing through his head as his fists clenched tighter and tighter.
"Edward, this is very important." The use of his first name made his eyes narrow significantly. And, quietly, he sat down again, still murderously angry, but listening.
And Roy knew that if he had been any other person, Ed would have simply started yelling in their face. And Roy appreciated that.
The General's eyes hardened, his face completely serious, every muscle tense, conveying the message he needed to get across. This was incredibly important. And he could only trust Fullmetal because he was the only one capable enough that he trusted.
And so Ed swallowed his anger and listened.
"This country is very strong and has the potential threat to kill us. If we make the wrong impression, this could go very badly, Fullmetal." If possible, Ed's eyes narrowed even more. This country was that dangerous?
"How so?" He asked carefully, noting every emotion hiding behind that rock hard mask of his.
To his surprise, he found a variety of emotions; worry, concern, carefulness, and a few other murky ones hiding between the theories and equations that made up the maze of the man's brain.
"They have magic, Fullmetal, magic." Slowly, his brain prodded at the foreign concept.
'Magic?'
He tried to understand, he really did. But he couldn't find anything. No scientific equations, no answers, no nothing, even from all of the research that he'd done from all over the world.
"Magic? Did I hear you right there bastard? Or are you on drugs again?"
The man sighed again for what seemed like the millionth time that day, tired fingers kneading at that spot at the bridge of his nose.
"Yes, Fullmetal, you heard me right. And no, I'm not on any type of drug."
The teen in front of him gaped, his prodigy mind trying to grasp what the other was saying and failing miserably. He was an alchemist after all, he believed in solutions, in math, in science, in the chemistry of the world, in the equivalence hidden in nature, in gravity, in space, in almost everything that could be explained with numbers and equations. But magic? Magic couldn't be explained. It was an alien subject only known to people from the ancient fairy tales and the myths from the legends of the old.
And as he tried to comprehend what the older was saying, he always came back to the same sentence.
But magic doesn't exist.
But then again, he knew his commanding officer better than to think that he would lie to one of his trusted subordinates under almost any circumstances unless a) he is being stopped from saying the truth by a stronger force (but even then he would try to tell them) or b) he has a plan. So his mind kept whirling, going around and around in circles.
Magic doesn't exist. It can't exist.
But… it did. And he had to accept that now. He could very well see the truth behind those serious black eyes.
Magic…. Does exist. Somehow, unexplainably, it does.
He sighed.
"Alright… magic…. That would be very hard to counter since we know next to nothing about it and the abilities it could potentially have."
"Exactly. It seems you understand what's at risk here. So you better take this job seriously, Fullmetal. You can't fool around at this school. As much as I know, there is also a war going down there, so be careful, and when push comes to shove, side with the side that you see fit."
Ed nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He would have to control himself.
Then, he noticed the General's particular choice of wording.
"Wait, bastard, what do you mean, school?" Roy smirked, the seriousness fading just the tiniest bit.
"It seems I still haven't told you what you'll be doing in England haven't I?" Roy's eyes glistened with mirth as Ed stared suspiciously at the man in front of him.
"You see, Ed, you'll be teaching Alchemy to a bunch of moody teens at this magic school called Hogwarts." Roy said, much too cheerily.
Ed buried his face in his hands. He should have known this would have been coming. He was suddenly slammed with the big picture of his situation.
He was going to a magic school named Pig Farts to teach a bunch of brats Alchemy without Al or anybody at all, one wrong move could kill his entire country, and there just so happened to be a war going on there too.
He groaned, cursing in tens of different languages under his breath.
A bunch of heavy books were thrown on the table in front of him, making the poor piece of furniture shake with the weight of them.
A just as heavy smirk on his face, the General just looked at him with a shit-eating grin.
"Well, Fullmetal, you better get onto studying. You'll leave in three days. As a prodigy, I expect you to know the language by heart and be at least through the first and second year books of the magic stuff. Oh, and you better be packed and ready, Ed~ ward~." The man punctuated his name with a horrible song that sounded like the croaks of broken toads.
Ed banged his head on the table as the poor, abused thing trembled again.
...
A week later, far away from Amestris in London, Führer Grumman was walking carefully through the halls of the muggle Prime Minister's headquarters, his sharp eyes scanning the place for any suspicious activity. Quietly, he met the eyes of a dark skinned, bald man sitting at a rather important looking desk. They kept their gazes for a moment, before tearing it away to focus on different things. There was a certain aura coming from the man that screamed at Grumman's instincts. There was a wariness, a tension in his shoulders that made the Führer cautious of the other man.
Quickly, his piercing eyes picked up the name on the tag on the man's desk.
Shacklebolt. As he made his way up the stairs towards the room to which he had been invited, he could feel Shacklebolt's cold gaze on him all the way up the stairs.
The man must be one of those wizards. Grumman filed him away for later use.
He found the door he had been assigned to, quietly knocking and pushing the door open to find the Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic already in deep conversation.
A small fire flickered by the fireplace, creating jagged shadows on the walls.
Scanning the place, Grumman couldn't help but think of Pride, the dangerous homunculus who had attacked from the shadows, and found himself inching towards the dim light in the center of the room.
Focusing back to the task on hand, he raked his eyes up and down upon his fellow politicians. Quickly, he made and entire folders on them filled with files and files of information, all down to the way that they stood and held themselves to estimations of their personalities, any possible weaknesses or strengths, to even the smallest details of their preference of fashion choice.
Rufus Scrimgeour was a complete and utter mystery. He had that careful, calculated look on his face as his ice cold eyes cut through the Führer's masks, eroding away the walls built by years of poker faces and war. But Scrimgeour also had that wild look in his eyes filled with experience and skill but also had that feral glint in them, and if the Führer had been a lesser man, he would have been trembling in his military boots.
Meanwhile the muggle Prime Minister looked anything but everything that made up the Minister of Magic. The man was skinny, and looked like a simple, average man. There was a slight sharp tint in his eyes that showed that he wasn't just your average joe. But other than that, the man looked to be useless if it came to a fight. But as Grumman padded into the Prime Minister's brain, he found a couple of worthy strategies that seemed rather well thought out. For this, he gave the man credit.
Quietly, the Führer sighed, and the three pairs of eyes stopped scrutinizing the other two. As Grumman held out his hand, introducing himself calmly as the Führer of Amestri who may be willing to discuss how to possibly help this wizarding war.
The tension disappeared just the slightest bit, but it still hung thick in the air as all three stiffly discussed any and all plans, eyeing each other distrustfully and gathering more info about the others as the night went on.
As Grumman spent more and more time Scrimgeour and another old man who had come later, Dumbledore, he found it hard to keep his walls in place. Everything about the two men, despite being old and gray screamed dangerous. They were not to be messed with; foes he didn't want to cross.
And when the Führer finally started home in the morning, he was tired out, wrung like a sponge, but when he closed his eyes to rest, twinkling, but dangerous blue eyes cut through him like butter.
...
Meanwhile, in another part of england, there sat a dusty house in a city of white, smoky fog.
Two carefully hooded figures glided through the streets, and the two women's voices cut through the haze like daggers. A whispering black river slid past the two women, splashing against the overgrown, trash filled banks. Shadows reared across the worn land, a disused mill looming over their heads.
A single, scrawny fox hopefully nosed at some old fish and chip bags in the tall, rotten grass.
When the two figures approached, one letting out a yell, the fox quickly slunk away, frightened.
"Wait!"
As the poor fox leaped into the air, trying for a hasty escape, a flash of green light harshly lit up their surroundings, glimmering against the dark river.
The fox dropped to the ground with a small yelp, unmoving and never to move again.
"Just a fox," the same voice spoke disgustedly, toeing the still body of the young fox.
"I thought perhaps an auror - Cissy, wait!" But the figure who the voice was desperately calling for had already glanced at the fox and deftly scrambled up the bank it had fallen from.
"Cissy - Narcissa - listen to me-" The voice managed to catch up to her quarry, and caught her wrist. The other quickly wrenched it away.
"Go back, Bella!"
"You must listen to me!"
"I've listened already. I've made my decision. Leave me alone!" The new voice echoed hauntingly throughout the gloomy place as said owner of the voice angrily continued their way up the bank.
The woman named Narcissa climbed her way to the top, arriving at the railing that separated her from the small row of dilapidated brick houses, dull and blind in the silent darkness.
"He lives here?" asked Bella, her pale face scrunching up in contempt. "Here? In this muggle dunghill? We must be the first of our kind ever to set foot-"
But Narcissa wasn't even listening, opting instead to slip through the small gap in the rusty railings and was already hurrying across the road.
Along the way, she bumped into a rather small stranger in a strange red coat. In her hurry, she ignored the figure and briskly continued on.
"Cissy, wait!" Bella leaped for Narcissa, almost running in her haste to catch up.
As she passed the strange figure, her eyes caught a breathtaking flash of gold and a few words that made her freeze in her tracks. To anyone else, the words would have sounded stupid, silly almost. But she was a wizard. And she understood full well the meaning of those words.
"... aparated to the wrong place….. Stupid…"
She whirled around, her haste forgotten, searching for the bright red cape through the fog.
But where he had been there was nothing but simple, cold air. He had already left, disappearing into the thick mist, no longer anywhere in vicinity.
Her eyes pierced through the fog, trying to find any trace of that foggy red stranger. What had been that flash of gold? What had that wizard been doing here? Could they possibly know….
The echoing steps of Narcissa snapped Bella out of her thoughts and she reluctantly turned away to continue chasing her companion.
Bella's cloaked billowed behind her as she ran forwards towards where Narcissa had disappeared in the alley between two houses to come to a second, identical street.
Some of the lampposts were broken, and dim light stretched harsh patterns of shadow across the foggy street. Both women ran, running through the eerie patches of darkness and light.
Bella finally managed to catch up to her prey, and this time when she caught her arm, she swung Narcissa around to meet her gaze.
"Cissy, you must not do this, you can't trust him-"
"The Dark Lord trusts him, doesn't he?"
"The Dark Lord is… I believe… mistaken," Bella panted, her eyes glimmering under her hood as she looked around suspiciously, as if the "Dark Lord" might be hiding around a corner. "In any case, we were told not to speak of the plan to anyone. This is a betrayal of the Dark Lord's-"
"Let go, Bella!" Narcissa snarled, her face contorting into something close to pure fuery, fueled by adrenaline and fear. From beneath her thick cloak, she flicked out a long, thin piece of wood; her wand, and held it threateningly out in front of her, pointed in Bella's face.
Bella barked out a cruel, chilling laugh, and despite it being the normal indicator of happiness, there was no such emotion in her voice.
"Cissy, your own sister? You wouldn't-"
"There is nothing I wouldn't do to anyone!" Narcissa growled, her voice holding a note of hysteria, and she angrily brought down her wand, brandishing it like it was a knife. A flash of light lit up the dark street for a second, and Bella quickly drew back her hand as if burned.
"Narcissa!" But Narcissa had already hurried ahead. Rubbing her hand gingerly, the pursuer followed again, this time keeping her distance as they travelled deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of identical, run down houses.
Narcissa turned sharply down onto another identical street, the worn out sign at the top labelling it as "Spinner's End", a crumbling mill chimney hovering over the foreboding road. Her boots clunked heavily on cracked cobblestones, her footsteps echoing in the seemingly abandoned place as she passed boarded up house after boarded up house. And finally, she came to a halt in front of the very last house where a dim glow came from the closed curtains of a downstairs room.
She had already knocked on the door, her knuckles rapping sharply on the tattered wood before Bella, cursing under her breath, caught up. For a moment they waited there, the only sound in the darkness their quiet pants as they took in the musky smell of the dirty river.
After a couple of seconds, they heard the creaking of the old door as it opened up just a tiny crack. A sliver of a man could be seen peering at them, soulless black eyes searching for the faces under the hoods as greasy black hair hung around his shallow face.
Narcissa threw back her hood roughly, and her deathly pale skin almost shone under the moonlight, her long blonde hair streaming down her back.
"Narcissa!" Said the man, opening the door just the tiniest bit wider to reveal his full stature. He was also cloaked in a similar black outfit, his eyes peering down his tall nose at them. "What a pleasant surprise!"
"Severus." She spoke in a strained whisper. "May I speak with you? It's urgent."
"But of course."
He opened the door for them, the house just as chilly as the foggy outdoors despite the crackles of fire coming from inside.
Narcissa carefully stepped inside, her still hooded sister moving inside as well without any invitation.
"Snape," she said curtly as she passed him.
"Bellatrix." Snape spoke back, his thin lips curving into a mocking smile before the door closed behind them.
And again, the street was in silence as the fog streamed around the maze of houses as the quiet whispers of the river became the only distraction to the deafening silence.
Not a single soul dared make a peep as tension flowed out of the house like a slippery snake.
The silence was suffocating as time ticked on like a broken clock; so, agonizingly slow, as each second lengthed until it was as if time wasn't moving at all.
But inside the house time was much too fast, it was speeding ahead, racing forwards like the voices' arguments and raised tones.
A muffled scream of despair managed to penetrate the thick walls of the house, leaking onto the street and cutting through the night like bullets.
Muted words followed the scream, like a tumbling river of horror.
"...possible… me… help Draco…."
"... Severus….. Look after….. Him…. No harm?"
"... try…"
There was a sound of something skidding across a rough surface as something, glass most likely, shattered in the house.
More words streamed out like an unstoppable flood of secrets.
"... unbreakable vow.."
"...I will."
"... I will."
"... I will."
A gleaming golden light shone through the cracks in the walls and from the tightly closed window, oppressive and terrifying, nothing like anyone had seen before.
But no one had been there to see it. Nobody but an empty, chilling street and the crumbling ruins of broken houses.