Nowhere is Safe: Edward Elric and the Order of the Phoenix
by GrievingAngel
A/N: Now that the story will be in wizarding territory, I'll be reading Order of the Phoenix obsessively. Don't worry, though, the Fullmetal aspects will stay loud and clear. I've got some solid ideas for future adaptations of both stories as the plot progresses. After all, this is a fanfiction; if I delivered the same exact story, that would be: (1) plagiarizing, (2) predictable, and (3) pointless. Nevertheless, I will do my best to keep the characters accurate and the situations believable.
Thank you for the reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story.
Chapter 3
An Unhappy Reunion
He was being stretched, squished, and twisted in different directions at once. This was definitely unnatural, and yet… it reminded him of something. Suddenly, it hit him: it was almost like being deconstructed and reconstructed, almost like the time Edward had entered the Portal of Truth.
And then, it was over. All three travelers stood on the pavement of a dark city street. Ed could almost have mistaken it for any old street in Central, but he knew better.
"Whoa," Alphonse gasped, speaking for only the second time that day. Ed wondered what Al had experienced, not having a body, but he must have at least seen what had happened, unlike Ed. Eventually, the young alchemist realized that he was shaking all over.
"Walk it off if you need to," Moody suggested, releasing his arms from the brothers and looking up into the sky. "Most people vomit after their first time Apparating."
"Can't imagine why," Ed laughed sarcastically, feeling rather nauseous. To distract his thoughts, he looked around at the houses. They were all of the same design: plain bricks, a few windows, a front gate; to be honest, it was sickeningly repetitive. All the lights were off, save for a lonely streetlamp, so Ed figured that they had arrived sometime between the late night and early morning.
"What now?" he asked after a few minutes of unnatural silence.
"A word of advice, boy," Moody replied, "use your mouth less and your eyes more. The key to success is constant vigilance. Got that?"
"Uh…"
Suddenly, a brilliant flame appeared above their heads. On instinct, Ed thought of Colonel Mustang's Flame Alchemy, but soon realized he was mistaken. It was a bird, an enormous, fiery-red bird. It hovered in front of Moody, extending one of its legs toward him. From its talons Moody pulled a folded piece of paper.
"Much obliged, Fawkes," he muttered to the bird. "Give my regards to Dumbledore."
The magnificent creature seemed to understand, and, in another burst of flame, it was gone.
"What was that?" Al gawked.
"A phoenix," Moody answered simply, unfolding the paper and scanning it once with both eyes. He then offered it to the brothers (Ed guessed that his magical eye could see through the Disillusionment Charm he'd put on them; otherwise, locating them on that dark street would be difficult at best).
"Read this and memorize it," he barked. Ed took the paper and held it so that Al could read as well. Written on the parchment was a short message in thin, slanting handwriting.
To the Elric Brothers,
Welcome to England, and the Wizarding World as a whole. For your own safety, please proceed immediately to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, located in London at number twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Sincerely,
Albus Percival Wolfrich Brian Dumbledore
"Finished?" Moody asked, his tone becoming increasingly irritated, as if standing on this dark street for too long made him nervous. When the brothers nodded, Moody snatched the paper back and set it aflame with his wand-tip.
"Best not to leave any evidence," he explained. "Now, look around and think about what you've just read."
Ed complied, noting to himself that this had to be a new record for "consecutively following orders from one person." Ed's eyes skimmed the surrounding buildings until he found a house with the number eleven, but next to it was a house with the number thirteen. Ed stared hard at the gap in-between the two, as if expecting the missing house to appear there. To his surprise, it actually did. Number twelve sprang up like an inflated balloon, pushing its neighbors out of the way. Since the inhabitants were surely sound asleep, Ed doubted that they would notice anything, especially if they were… what had Moody called them? Muggles, that was it.
Once number twelve had finished materializing, Moody waved his wand over the handle of the front door. Ed could hear the clicks of many deadbolts retracting. When the old wizard turned the knob and opened the door, he motioned for the brothers to follow him. As soon as they had all crossed the threshold, Moody shut and re-locked the door behind them. They now stood in a narrow hallway, illuminated only by a thin stream of light coming from a cracked-open door at the other end.
"That's odd," Moody thought aloud, "even at this hour, I'd have thought more of us would be around."
"Well, maybe that Dumbledore guy didn't tell them we were coming," Ed hypothesized.
"Could be," the old wizard grumbled, turning to the brothers and lifting the Disillusionment Charm. "Wait here for a moment," he instructed as he hobbled toward the room at the far end of the passage.
And, just like that, Ed and Al were alone in the darkness, not saying a word to each other. Ed could feel the tension of his mutual silent treatment with Al weighing on him like a ball-and-chain. He remembered Hughes's words: All you should have to do is set him straight… you can do it. Edward opened his mouth to speak, but new noises from the room Moody had entered stopped him before he even began: the scraping of chair legs, the scuffling of feet, and the muttering of several deep voices.
The door swung open, and a tall man stood silhouetted by the light behind him.
"Wait for the rest of us, Hohenheim," another man called as he poked his head out of the doorway, "We want to get a look at your sons, too."
Hohenheim? No, it couldn't be. Even as Ed tried to fathom this possibility, someone turned on the gas lamps along the hallway, allowing everyone to see each other. And there he was, exactly as Ed remembered him. A long pent-up anger began rising up inside of the young alchemist. What was he doing here?
"Dad?" Al asked, breaking the moment of silence. Hohenheim blinked at the suit of armor, confusion mixing with surprise in his features.
"If you three are going to talk, you should take it out of the main hall," Moody warned, pointing at a door that led off from the passage.
"Alastor's right," the man who had spoken before agreed, running a hand through his long black hair. "The last thing we need is my mother's portrait raving at this hour."
Hohenheim nodded, heading right for the door Moody had indicated, as if he was eager to get away from Ed's intense gaze. Ed didn't really blame him for that; he had always prided himself on having a particularly nasty death-stare. When the brothers didn't immediately follow, Moody gave them a look that clearly said, "Get in there, or else." Feeling much more motivated all of a sudden, they trudged into the side room, Ed taking the lead and Al shutting the door behind them.
Hohenheim seemed to have regained his composure. He smiled warmly at them, much too warmly for Ed's tastes. "It's good to see you, boys," he said evenly, "although, I must say, I didn't expect Alphonse to have gotten so much taller than you, Edward."
This was possibly the worst way in which the conversation could have started. Not only did this remark ratchet Ed's anger to an even higher level, but it also brought to mind the argument in the hospital. It was clear that Al had remembered the fight as well – most people couldn't detect any emotion in that metallic face, but Ed could.
"Well, Dad," Al tried to explain, his armor rattling and muffling his voice, "you see-"
"Mom's dead," Ed declared bluntly. He watched as Hohenheim absorbed those two words, processing their meaning. As if in a daze, he half-collapsed into a chair, gripping his knees for support.
"Dead?" he choked, his voice trembling. "How? When?"
"The very same year you left. She was never the same, always looking out the window, wasting away while she waited for a man who wasn't coming back, and when she caught an illness, that was all it took."
Hohenheim buried his face in his hands, shaking with silent grief.
"But, do you want to know what the real kicker is? Four years ago, Al and I tried to bring her back."
The strong, weathered hands fell away from Hohenheim's pain-stricken face. He raised his head to gape at his son.
"That's right. We committed the taboo: human transmutation. But it didn't work. At a result, I lost my left leg, and Al was taken completely." Ed pushed his right sleeve up, showing his father the automail arm. "All I could do was bind Al's soul to that suit of armor by giving up my right arm. Go on, take a good look!"
"Brother," Al said tentatively, "maybe you shouldn't be so harsh about this-"
"I thought you weren't talking to me!" Ed snapped at his little brother before rounding on Hohenheim once again. All of his anger was pouring out of him; there was no stopping it now.
"And then, to find you here! You vanish for a decade, only to show up in the Wizarding World! You abandoned us so you could go gallivanting off with these "magic" freaks; admit it!"
"Edward," Hohenheim began haltingly, "It's not like that, I-"
"Oh, it's not? Then tell me, how is it, exactly?"
His father opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out.
"Just as I thought," Ed scoffed. "I shouldn't have expected any better. I'll be honest – I actually used to think you were scary, but now… I can see you're just a coward. Tell me the truth – did you ever love us, or did you just hang around Mom for a few laughs, but, when she started having kids, you decided to duck out?"
Hohenheim looked like Edward had just shot him, but he still said nothing.
"YOU MAKE ME SICK!" Ed yelled, turning on his heel and charging toward the door. Alphonse extended his arm as if to stop him, but Ed swatted it away and yanked open the door, slamming it behind him.
On the other side, Edward found Moody and the two other men who had been talking with Hohenheim earlier. Had they been listening? Ed was sure that Moody had watched them with that magical eye of his. Ed glared at each of them in turn before storming off down the hallway. He was completely consumed by his long-contained rage. He didn't know or care where his feet took him, or even how long he wandered up and down staircases and corridors. He just wanted to be alone.
At last, Ed found himself standing in front of a plain door. Finding it unlocked and the room beyond empty, he ducked inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that he was in a dark, dusty drawing room occupied with outdated upholstery. Ed stumbled toward the far wall, leaning against it for support as soon as he reached it. In front of him was an old writing desk. Seized with a sudden urge to vent his wrath, Ed punched his automail fist clean through its lid. If it's important, one of the wizards can fix it later, he grumbled. Feeling a little better now, Ed turned to leave the room, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Alphonse standing in-between him and the exit.
"Al?" Ed asked, his voice a little hoarse, "you must have been awfully quiet to sneak in here without me hearing you."
"I thought you weren't talking to me," Al retorted. The elder Elric winced slightly at having his own words thrown back in his face, but he figured he probably deserved it.
"You were pretty determined to send Dad on a guilt trip just now," Al continued, "but isn't that just dumping your own guilt onto him?"
Ed raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Al?"
"I'm talking about the part you played in the human transmutation. It was your idea to begin with; remember? You kept pushing and pushing – only to get both of us nearly killed."
Al had never talked about that night like this before.
"Or, at least, that's what my memories tell me, but I don't even know if I can trust them anymore, or you. You never gave me an answer back in the hospital. Why wouldn't you say anything?"
"Because, Al, that crazy idea was so out of the blue that I didn't know what to say!"
"That's your excuse?" Al laughed in a manner most unlike his normal self. "Fine, let's say I do believe you. It doesn't change the fact that you're the one who put me in this armor, the one who made me like this."
"I know that, Al, and I'm sorry, but-"
"'I'm sorry?' You think you can just say 'I'm sorry' and that'll make everything okay?"
"I'm going to fix things, Al; I promise-"
"Words! That's all you give me! How can you expect me to keep living off your empty words?"
"Al…" Ed was losing the ability to speak altogether. The red eyes glowed menacingly out of their dark, metal sockets.
"It's time I told you how I've really felt this whole time! Whether I'm your puppet or your brother, this mockery of a life I have is a living hell thanks to you! You did this to me… and I will never forgive you."
Ed could barely breathe, staring at his little brother in horror and shaking his head in disbelief. "No…"
"'No…'" Al repeated, mocking Ed with a pitiful squeak. "Do I need to spell it out more clearly? I hate you."
The young alchemist fell to his knees in front of the large suit of armor, gazing up helplessly into the cold face. "Al… Al, please…"
"No! No more apologies! No more excuses! I hate you, my so-called brother! I've hated you for all these years, and nothing will stop me from continuing to hate you!"
"Stop," Ed begged, covering his ears, trying in vain to block out the pain of Al's words.
"You don't deserve my forgiveness! You don't even deserve to live while I suffer like this every moment!"
"Stop, please…"
"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"
"STOP IT!" Ed screamed.
BANG! The door behind Al slammed open, and in stepped Hohenheim. He took one look at Edward, then at Alphonse, and comprehension dawned on his face. Without any hesitation, he whipped out a wand, pointed it at the suit of armor, and spoke quite clearly.
"Riddikulus."
There was a loud CRACK, and suddenly, it was no longer Al who stood in the room with them, but Trisha Elric. She smiled at Hohenheim and began to walk toward him, but with each step, she aged. Just as she was about to crumble into dust in front of him, Hohenheim waved his wand, and she was gone in a puff of smoke. Ed could have sworn that a solitary tear traced a path down his father's cheek.
"Edward," he said quietly, meeting Ed's gaze, "I'm so sorry – about everything. I should have been there for you boys."
As sincere as Hohenheim's words were, it didn't matter. Ed couldn't hear him anymore, or anything at all; a loud ringing had filled his ears, blocking out all sound. Worse, his vision was blurring at an alarming rate. He couldn't speak, move, or even breathe. In another moment, his consciousness was swallowed by darkness.
After Ed had left in a temper, Alphonse had tried to apologize on his brother's behalf. "He's just upset. Brother's always taken these things harder than I have. I'm sure that you had a good reason for leaving."
"Thank you, son," Hohenheim had replied, looking a little more cheerful. "If… if you don't mind staying a bit longer, I'll tell you everything."
Al had nodded, taking a seat across from his father. "I'd like that, Dad."
With that, Hohenheim had started at the beginning, the very beginning, back to his life in Xerxes where he had first met the being who called itself "Homunculus." After the Homunculus had taken the souls of the Xerxian people to form a powerful Philosopher's Stone, Hohenheim made his way to Xing as the only survivor of his culture. He traveled for many years, eventually coming to England. Upon learning about magic, Hohenheim resolved to keep the Wizarding World and his native region from discovering each other and constructed a two-way Fidelius Charm. As hazardous as it would be for a wizard to study true alchemy, he knew that the far worse danger lay in the possibility of the Homunculus harnessing the power of magic. By forming the barrier, any and all knowledge of the two realms' interaction disappeared, save for that which Hohenheim knew and chose to share with a select few. Centuries later, Pinako Rockbell introduced Hohenheim to a young girl named Trisha Elric. Despite the immediate attraction between the two, Hohenheim soon returned to England. By this time, Lord Voldemort had risen to power. Hohenheim aided the Order of the Phoenix, a secret society formed by Albus Dumbledore to fight this Dark Wizard. During the long years of this struggle, Hohenheim occasionally visited Risembool, and every time he did, he fell more deeply in love with Trisha, who by now had grown into a beautiful young woman. Almost two years before Voldemort's reign of terror ended, Hohenheim left the Order in order to settle down with Trisha. It was a few years later that he discovered something terrible: Amestris's true purpose was to serve as the basis for a giant transmutation circle, much like the one in Xerxes. Convinced of the Homunculus's involvement, Hohenheim left Risembool once again, asking Trisha to wait for him with their two sons. Ten years later, having nearly finished with the preparations against this threat, Hohenheim had been heading back to East Amestris (and Risembool) when he received an urgent message from Dumbledore. Voldemort had returned, even more powerful and dangerous than before; it was news that Hohenheim could not simply ignore, resulting in his presence at Grimmauld Place when Ed and Al arrived.
When Hohenheim brought his tale to a close, he waited for some reaction from Alphonse. The boy had listened patiently to his father's story, never interrupting or questioning him.
"Still awake?" Hohenheim asked genially. Alphonse jolted slightly, then nodded.
"Uh, yeah. It's just a lot. You were a slave, and now you're a Philosopher's Stone?"
"Well, that's one way of summing it up."
"Wow… I mean, your story all makes sense… and so do some other things. Those people that Ed met in the Fifth Laboratory, do you think they were in league with the Homunculus?"
"From what Alastor told me, I'm sure of it. In fact, I believe there's a possibility that they were… born of him."
"Born?"
"It's just a theory," Hohenheim explained, "but these new Homunculi could have been formed from pieces of the original Homunculus's soul – his very being."
"What makes you think that?"
"One of the Homunculi was named Envy. It wouldn't surprise me if the original Homunculus created a set of seven, each one named for one of the Seven Deadly Sins of Man. For example, perhaps the woman Alastor mentioned was Lust."
"I see. So, how would we find the other five?"
"I don't know. For now, it's best if you and Ed lay low here. Since both of you have seen the Truth, that makes you valuable to them."
"Uh, the thing is… I don't remember seeing this 'Truth' thing. I can't just clap my hands to transmute like Brother and Teacher."
Hohenheim had raised an eyebrow. "Really? Hmm… maybe the trauma of that night repressed the memory… wait, you said your teacher can transmute with her bare hands as well?"
"Yes, and now that I think about it, she did mention something about 'the Truth' once."
"This isn't good. At this rate, he'll have all the sacrifices he needs."
"Not quite. Even if Teacher has seen the Truth, that only makes four when we include you, Brother, and me. You said five was the crucial number."
"Still… four is much too close to five for my liking."
They both sighed heavily. At length, Al changed the subject. "Dad… there's something I need to confess. At the Fifth Laboratory, when I fought Barry the Chopper, he planted this idea in my head."
"What idea?"
"He told me that I wasn't really Ed's brother, just a puppet he had created to do his bidding. And I believed him! When I finally told Ed a few days ago, he got really upset, and we haven't spoken properly since. I've been so confused… until now. Talking with you… it's assured me that what Barry said was a lie. Even though you've been gone so many years, you know me so well it's like you never left. You treat me like a normal human, despite this armor… and that's all the proof I need."
Hohenheim smiled at his son. "I'm glad I could help, Alphonse." Then, he stood and stretched. Al noticed that Ed often did the same thing after a long talk. I guess they are a lot alike, even if they don't know it, he mused.
"Now," his father declared, smoothing the front of his vest, "I think it's time we went looking for Edward, don't you?"
"Uh… are you sure? Brother can keep a bad temper going for hours when provoked enough."
"I'll risk it," Hohenheim chuckled. "Should we search together or separately?"
"We'll cover more ground if we split up," Al decided, following his father back into the main hallway.
As Al searched for his brother, he wondered if number twelve, Grimmauld Place, had been magically enhanced so that it was larger on the inside than on the outside. Whether it was or not, the place was certainly more confusing than he had expected it to be. Having found neither hide nor hair of Edward, Al thought to himself, I wonder if Dad's had any more luck. As he passed the first landing on the main staircase, he got his answer.
"Is that you, Alphonse?" Hohenheim called.
"Yeah," Al responded, tracing the voice into a nearby drawing room. "Did you find Ed?" It was then that Al saw his older brother collapsed on the floor. "Brother! What happened? Why is he-"
"He's in shock," Hohenheim explained, motioning for Al to calm down and lower his voice. "It's not life-threatening; it's purely emotional."
Al knelt on the dusty carpet next to his father. "How did he get like this?"
"He accidentally released a boggart."
"A what?"
"A magical creature that takes the form of whatever a person fears most."
Al gasped softly. Considering how much tossing, turning, muttering, and even screaming Ed did in his sleep, Al could only imagine what horrors he saw almost every night. But to meet one of his nightmares in the daytime… the very thought sent a shiver through Al's soul.
"So, when will Brother come out of it?"
"I'm not sure exactly. Soon, I hope…" Hohenheim stood and patted Al on the shoulder. "Would you stay with him?"
"Of course, but where are you going?"
"Well, I think it'd be best if I'm not here when Edward comes to. I saw him in a moment of weakness. For that, I might get punched in the face."
"Brother wouldn't-" Al stopped himself as he considered this possibility, "or… maybe he would."
"Exactly," Hohenheim laughed softly. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."
"Okay."
Once his father had shut the door on his way out, Al gently lifted Ed's stiffened form off of the floor. He cradled his brother in his arms, watching Ed's glazed stare with a mixture of pain and pity.
"Ed?" he asked, brushing some of his brother's loose bangs away from the pale face. "Brother, can you hear me?" Despite a lack of response, Al continued. "I want to apologize for what I said at the hospital, what I suggested. I never should have doubted you – I'm so sorry."
The sound of his voice seemed to be having some effect. The young blond blinked slowly, then his gaze lazily wandered until it found the armored face.
"…Al…" Ed murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Don't try to talk yet," Al shushed, his protective brotherly instincts kicking in.
"No…" the elder Elric insisted, forcing himself to form the words. "…need… to ask… important…"
"What's so important?"
The young alchemist gulped. "Do… do you… hate me?"
If Alphonse still possessed physical eyes, he would have blinked in confusion. "What? Why would you ask that?"
"Because…" Ed was slowly starting to regain control of his voice. "Because that's… what I was afraid… to tell you before… in Central. I mean… I'm the one… who put you… in that body. It's my fault. You… you should hate me, so… do you?"
The fear in Ed's eyes told Alphonse that this wasn't a joke. Where is this question coming from? he puzzled. And then he realized it: the boggart. It had taken the form of Ed's worst fear; had it been an Alphonse who hated him? The younger Elric sighed; he had only minutes ago conquered a lie about himself and his bond with his brother. Now, it was time for Al to help Ed do the same.
"Brother, listen to me. I don't hate you. Not once since I got this body have I resented or blamed you for what happened, and nothing you could ever do would ever make me hate you. You're my brother; that's the end of it."
It was as if Al's words had broken a spell. Ed's tense body finally relaxed, and he sat up, taking deep breaths. Rather than meeting Al's gaze, however, he hung his head and began shaking severely.
"Ed?" Al asked, afraid he might make things worse by holding his brother still.
It was then that he noticed the drop of clear, watery liquid fall onto his armored leg. Another soon followed, and another. Al didn't know what to say. He hadn't seen his older brother cry since they had been young children.
"Thank you… Al," Ed choked, sniffling. "It might seem stupid, but… that thought has haunted me… since the beginning." He wiped his face with a gloved hand, bringing it away damp with tears. He laughed softly, "Some big brother I am, letting you see me like this."
"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Even you can't bottle up an emotion like that forever."
"Guess not," Ed agreed. Al could tell he was trying to calm himself, to force the child within him back into a box, but it wasn't working. The Fullmetal Alchemist had found his limit, his breaking point. He could no longer hold back the deluge of fear and guilt that he had dammed inside. Still making hardly a sound, Ed leaned his head against Al's chestplate and let the pain flow out of him. The younger Elric held his brother close, wishing more than anything that he could be human in this moment, that he could offer the comfort of warm flesh instead of cold steel. Al rocked slightly, whispering, "You'll be okay. It's going to be all right."
After many long minutes, the quiet sobs ceased. Ed didn't make any effort to sit up again, but his shoulders had finally slackened. Al decided it was safe at last to bring up another subject.
"Brother… I want… I think you should forgive Dad. He told me how sorry he was so many times, I lost count."
"Well, I only heard it once."
"Brother," Al groaned, noticing that Ed's snarky attitude was returning. "He really does care about us, and he deserves a second chance."
Ed laughed, a good sound to hear despite its sarcastic intent. "You've always been like that, Al – believing the best about people, giving them second chances… It's a great quality and all… but I don't have it. 'Sorry' might be enough for you… but it's gonna take… a lot more than that… for Hohenheim to… earn my trust." Ed's words were slowing, slurring slightly, but Al pressed him nonetheless.
"Then at least give him the chance to earn it. Please?"
"I'll… try… but don'… 'spect… mu…" His sentence decayed into unintelligible mumblings before fading away altogether.
"Ed?"
The only sound that greeted him was soft, steady breathing. Ed had sunk into sleep like a stone. Alphonse smiled inside.
"There's hope for you after all, Brother."
A/N: Enter Hohenheim! Yay! And then…. boggart!Al… (shudder)
Ha! I am so obsessive over details, I literally read Trisha's, Hohenheim's, and Edward's profile articles on the Fullmetal Alchemist Wiki all the way through to find the year-dates for all the major events in the manga. I learned a lot…
Yes, I know Ed is characteristically a tough guy, but he's still a human with vulnerable moments. Don't worry; he'll be back to his old self in the next chapter.
