EXTRA, EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT IT!

Okay, so I have a sort of prequel extra thingy here! It's basically how Ed got to Hogwarts, and how he got to the world of HP, too.

DISCLAIMED because I'm too lazy to do a proper disclaimer.

This shall be shorter than other chappies in this story (I think). Just thought I'd give you a fair warning. . .

Albus Dumbledore

There was a rumor going around the wizarding community that spoke of a person (most likely a werewolf, if the accounts of his appearance had any credibility) with strange magical powers.

According to eyewitnesses, a man appeared in Godric's Hollow (no one had ever seen the man before) and became well known for fixing things around the village- without the use of a wand. He just clapped and placed his hands on what had been broken, and with a crackle of blue energy, it would be fixed.

This wasn't any magic I'd ever heard of, which was strange, seeing as I've heard of most types of magic, if not all. Therefore, I decided to investigate.

I arrived in Godric's Hollow under the pretense of visiting my family's graves. It was a good cover, since I hadn't visited in quite a while, and I did in fact want to pay my respects. The best excuses always contain an element of truth.

As I stood before the grave, I noticed a man walking down the rows of graves. He wore exceptionally flashy clothing, especially for a graveyard setting. His coat was a lovely but very bright shade of red, while the rest of his clothing was black. His coat bore a symbol I recognized from my days working on the Sorcerer's Stone: a Flamel, the symbol of my old friend Nicholas.

The young man paused in front of an old, dilapidated grave. He inspected it closely, almost as if he were trying to decipher the writing on it that was partially hidden by moss. After a moment, he nodded, taking a step back. Then he lifted his hands and brought them together, almost as if he were praying.

The clap echoed through the empty yard, louder than it should have been. Immediately, an odd disturbance occurred, and I felt the energy in the air shift towards him, as he were drawing it near. It felt almost as if he drew loose energy from the air, like I've theorized magic sometimes does when a wizard is running low on energy from within. . . and raw energy straight from the earth itself. The energy made itself known around him, crackling in blue patterns, like lightning.

He placed his hands on the grave stone, and I watched, wide-eyed, as the grave came alive with that same energy. I saw the stone shiver, the moss peel away, the weathered places reform, and the hard-to-read writing become clear once more.

The man dusted his hands off and smiled lightly. Then he turned towards me and froze. He evidently hadn't known he had an audience.

I overcame my surprise as the man made as if to hurry away. "Wait!" I called to him. He paused.

I walked over to him. He appeared tense, and his golden eyes (how odd they were, like a werewolf's but brighter) held apprehension and perhaps a hint of fear.

"Wer bist du?" he asked in German. Who are you?

I frowned, realizing that the man was a foreigner, before replying in the same language, "Mein Name ist Albus Dumbledore." My name is Albus Dumbledore.

The fear disappeared as the man suddenly snickered, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Albus Dumbledore?" he replied, clearly amused.

I nodded.

He let out a sharp laugh. "Verzeihen Sie mir, Opa, aber dieser Name ist umwerfend komisch!" Forgive me, Gramps, but that name is hilarious!

I sighed. He really wasn't from around here after all. "Do you speak English?"

The man sent me one last humor-filled glance before replying, "Of course."

I started. I hadn't expected him to have such impeccable English. I could barely hear his accent! Not only that, but the accent I could hear didn't sound like German, exactly. There was a hint of the language, but it was mixed with a slightly smoother tone, and a strangely choppier cadence.

"Excellent. Well, I've told you my name, and spoken in your language." I smiled at the man before continuing. "How about returning the favor?"

The man raised an eyebrow at me, then nodded as if pleased. "Equivalent Exchange, then." He let out a little laugh. "All right, Opa. I'll play your game, for the time being at least." He held out a hand. "The name's Edward Elric."

I shook the hand offered to me. "Edward Elric. Would you mind if I called you Edward?" I asked, releasing his hand.

Edward shrugged, allowing his hand to drop to his waist. "Not at all, though I'd prefer Ed." He flashed a mischievous smirk at me. "You don't mind me calling you Opa, do you? Or Gramps?"

I chuckled. "It's perfectly fine, Edward. In fact, it's rather refreshing to be referred to so informally. I do tire of being called Dumbledore or Professor all the time."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Professor?"

I nodded. "At Hogwarts, to be exact."

Edward's eyes were threatening to disappear into his hair, and his smirk widened. "Who in their right mind would put Schwein and Warzen together?" A small laugh escaped his lips. "Sounds rather hässlich to me."

I laughed. "Oh, but the school isn't ugly at all, Edward."

Edward snapped in an exaggerated expression of realization. "So it is a school! I was wondering. With a name like Hogwarts, you never know," he concluded with a delicate shrug.

I smiled at him. "Yes, Hogwarts is a school. In fact, I'm surprised you haven't heard of it. Almost every wizard in Britain, perhaps even the world, has."

Edward grimaced. "Ah, yes. The Magier I've heard so much about."

I frowned. Heard so much about?

"Are you. . . not a wizard?" I asked in confusion.

Edward chuckled. "Nein," he replied firmly. "At least, I don't think I am a Hexenmeister. I am. . . hmm. . . how do you say it in English? Ah. . . Scheiße, one of the few words I don't know in English." He looked distinctly disgruntled, like not knowing something irked him. It reminded me of young Harry's dear friend Hermione. I would have begun reminiscing about the two and their other good friend, Ronald, but curiosity kept me at bay.

"Just say it in German," I coaxed him. "I might know it."

Edward looked at me skeptically before saying, "Alchimist."

I started.

"You're an alchemist?" I asked incredulously.

Edward nodded. "So the word in similar in English. Verdammt, that would have been nützlich to know before I came here. . ."

I held up a hand to stop him. "You're an alchemist, Edward?" I asked once more.

Edward nodded once more. "Ja, I'm an. . . al-chem-ist," he said slowly, trying the word out. Then he smiled before looking me in the eye. "I assume the word for Alchimie is similar in English, too?"

I nodded weakly. "It's called alchemy."

Edward grinned. "Ausgezeichnet!" Then he seemed to remember something, and he turned to me with a frown. "Was there something you wanted, Opa?"

I didn't answer, too busy pondering this newest development. Edward was an alchemist? What he did didn't look like alchemy to me. . . Then again, I didn't know it all that well. If only Nicholas were still here. He would know.

Another thought occurred to me. So far, Edward was still a mystery to me. I knew his name. I knew he spoke German. I knew he could do odd magic. I knew his eyes were like that of a werewolf, even though he didn't look much like some others I'd met. I knew he considered himself to be an alchemist.

What if. . .

"Opa? You alive?"

I shook myself out of my stupor. "Ah, I apologize, Edward," I said hurriedly. "I was just thinking. . . would you perhaps like a teaching spot at Hogwarts, as the Alchemy professor?"

"No," he replied immediately. "I will not teach alchemy to anyone. I apologize, but I must decline. Besides, I am too busy."

I was surprised by Edward's quick refusal, but I didn't let that stop me from asking: "Busy doing what, if I may ask?"

Edward gestured to the graveyard, and to the town beyond the fence. "I am fixing this place up, for now. For the most part, they let me, too. Except for that one house. . ." He frowned. "Too bad. That house is a Katastrophe, really. Looks like it was. . . blown up, or something."

So he could see the Potter house? I could feel my eyes widening. Could it be that he really was a wizard?

"Beyond that. . ." Edward continued, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring off into the distance. "Well, beyond that, I'm trying to get home."

I almost asked him why he couldn't just get on a plane and go back, before I realized that he wasn't speaking of Germany.

"You are from somewhere farther away than Germany, aren't you?" I asked him softly.

Edward merely chuckled in response. "I suppose you could say that." He sighed sadly. "It isn't going to be easy getting back, and I don't have the proper research materials to find a way."

A torch lit in my head.

"You know, Edward," I began, "you don't have to teach alchemy at Hogwarts. There are other subjects there."

Edward sighed. "I already told you, Opa, I-"

"We have the largest wizarding library in all of Great Britain."

There. I'd told him.

I watched as Edward's face lit up, filled with glee at the thought of a large library.

"If you were a teacher, you'd have access to it. All of it."

I was reeling him in, slowly but surely.

Edward looked like he was trying to resist, but the pull of books was urging him to accept. "You do realize I'm only eighteen, right?" he asked desperately.

I chuckled. "Honestly, I thought you were younger, and I still want you to teach at my school."

Edward slumped over with a sigh, submitting to research's magnetic tug. "Fine," he grumbled. "What will I teach?"

My eyes twinkled. "Say, Edward. . . are you any good at combat?"

Edward blinked at me, then smirked. "Oh, Gramps," he chuckled, finally using the English word. "You have no idea what you just got yourself into, do you?"

I shrugged. "Perhaps not. Do you agree?"

Edward grinned. "Maybe. I'll think about it."

I smiled. "Very good. In the mean time, I suggest you learn as much about the magical world as you can. . . and a wand may be in order. I'll check with Garrick, maybe he'll be able to find something for you. . ."

Edward frowned. "I already told you, I am not a Hexenmeister. I have no need for a stick that does magic tricks."

I couldn't help but smile mysteriously. "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Edward."

I. . . failed.

It didn't work. The Truth didn't accept my sacrifice.

"But why?" I asked. "Why won't you let me give up my alchemy?"

The Truth grinned, teeth white and perfect in an otherwise blank and empty face. "Well, Young Al-che-mist," he said in that awful voice, "I actually have another offer for you. Whether you accept it or not is your choice."

I frowned. "What's the offer?"

"There is a world on the other side of this Gate. In that world, there is a people with whom I was. . . especially lenient." The Truth's mouth disappeared and his tone turned sour. "I created it before your world, so it is older, with a more primitive form of alchemy, and also a rather interesting power only granted to some. If you were to accept my offer, I would give you immense capabilities with this power AND allow you to keep your alchemy. . . that is, until you complete the task."

"What task?!" I asked angrily, annoyed at the Truth's vagueness.

That grin- that terrible, mocking grin- appeared once more.

"Destroy the evil plaguing that world as you destroyed the evil plaguing yours. THEN you may return to your world. . . and your brother will be returned no matter what happens there, so long as you accept the job."

I didn't like it. I couldn't. . . but I had to. If it meant saving Al. . .

"I'll do it."

I'd do anything.

"I thought you'd see it my way, Mr. Al-che-mist! I'll send your brother your regards, yes? I'll even tell him your mission before I send him back!"

I nodded numbly, watching as the Gate opened, hands reaching out to me, ready to pull me into the depths once more.

End of Extra 1

YEAH! BACKSTORY-NESS BE BACKSTORY-NESS!

LOL, I'm a weirdo.

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Today I chose the word of the day! Not Merriam-Webster, ME! And I am proud of that fact, because I'm COOLER THAN GRAY FULLBUSTER IN THE COLD, AND HOTTER THAN NATSU DRAGNEEL'S FLAMES!

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