Hello again! I have nearly completely overhauled this chapter. I'm gutting this story, but I'll try to keep the important bits.
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(Disclaimer: Don't own HP or FMA.)
Patience is for Wimps
"Hey, Ed, why do you wear those gloves?"
Ed froze.
"I am what you call the world. Or perhaps the Universe, or perhaps God, or perhaps Truth, or perhaps all, or perhaps one, and I am also you."
"Oh - it's just a habit," Ed told him, turning around quickly, eyes bright in the dimly illuminated dorm, a sheepish grin on his face.
"I- I was just curious," James said, relieved that Ed hadn't reacted badly. He ran a hand through his hair.
The golden-eyed Gryffindor looked at James's open and slightly abashed face.
"Take my leg! Take my arm! Take my heart! Just give me back my brother, he's all I have left!"
He smiled. James, although not much like the man, reminded him of Maes. Honest, straightforward - a mix of bitterness and warmth spread through his chest. Deciding to embrace the lighter side of his memories, he turned sharply on his heel and walked out of the dorm room.
"You coming?"
. . .
Sirius watched as Ed strolled into the Great Hall, James close behind. He was still in that strange clothing - Sirius wondered for the millionth time why the professors hadn't reprimanded him for that. It must have had something to do with the fragile ties between Amestris - wherever in Merlin's name that was - and the Wizarding community.
Honestly, Sirius wasn't sure how he felt about the golden-haired enigma. Ed was very likable. He was funny, pugnacious (especially when it came to his height, Sirius noticed), and seemed very open. Unless you asked him about his past. Then he clammed up.
And then there was the fact that the short fifteen-year-old was in the military. It unnerved Sirius, stirring up memories of his family's affinity for the Death Eaters, a veritable army themselves. Would he end up there? Would Regulus?
"Padfoot!" James called, beaming. His messy-haired friend was as cheerful as ever - Sirius remembered their first meeting.
. . .
"You're Black - Sirius Black, right?" A boy his own age asked him, dark eyes wide and a small grin curving his lips. They were standing outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies, admiring the display of broomsticks and colorful Quidditch robes.
Behind James stood a house elf - clean, young, and dressed in a square of fine silk curtain, draped around it like a toga. One one corner the coat of arms for the Potter family was embossed. In the house elf's hands was a sheet of parchment - a list - and a bag hung from its wrist.
"Yeah," he said, trying desperately to recall the name of the only Potter heir. "You're Potter...um, Jack? Jack Potter?"
The Potter boy looked indignant. "It's James, thank you very much. I'll make sure that your parents know about your blatant disrespect of your peers!" He made as if to walk away, then stopped, turned to Sirius, and began to laugh.
"Your expression - priceless!" James caught his breath and extended a hand.
Hesitant, Sirius took it.
"I'm here to pick up some things for school," James said conversationally, "Which is ridiculous, since it's only January - school doesn't start for another nine months. On the bright side, mum and dad gave me a bit of spending money," - he held up a rather full bag of money - "to use as I please. How about you?"
"My parents are meeting with someone, some business they have to take care of," Sirius said, wrinkling his nose. His family was always involved in something Dark - an affiliation he wasn't entirely proud of.
The house elf cleared its throat, timid, and spoke, "Young Master, your parents are expecting you home within the hour."
James' expression dropped a bit. "I guess I've got to get going, then - lots of stuff to buy - but I expect I'll see you around, Sirius. Pleasure meeting you."
"Alright," Sirius said, a grin spreading across his face, "see you around, James."
. . .
"What is it, Prongs?" he replied, grinning at his friend's infectious attitude.
James dropped into the seat next to him, grabbing a croissant from a nearby platter. "You want to play Quidditch in our free hour? Our friend here," - he gestured to Ed - "hasn't got a clue what it is, and I figured we might as well show off our superior skills to him. The first official match isn't in ages!"
"Why not?" agreed Sirius, shooting a glance at Ed, who was reading a book and eating pancakes at a ridiculous pace. He didn't even know Hogwarts served pancakes.
Remus, who'd been silently watching their exchange, smiled.
"I'm going to make sure," announced James, determination blazing in his eyes. Standing up, he strode over to the reclusive blonde. "Will you come at lunch? For Quidditch, I mean." He stood in a determined pose; hands balled into loose fists and set against his hips, chin up, challenging the blonde to turn him down.
Sirius thought that was a smidge overkill, but that was James for you.
"I already said I would, didn't I?" Ed replied blandly, still reading. James stood there, and they remained that way a tad too long, the silence growing awkward. Finally, the little antenna-like bit of hair sticking up on Ed's head twitched and the blonde turned slowly. "What?"
Sirius chuckled as he watched James's face change as the dark-haired Chaser realized that he did not, in fact, have a reason to continue standing there. "Er, well, you're sure you're coming?"
Voice tinged with irritation, Ed said, "I'm coming, but maybe I won't if you keep asking."
. . .
"That's amazing," Ed muttered, running one hand over the broomstick. Sirius and James had just shown off by playing a mini-match with the Quaffle - James had access to the balls, being captain of the team.
James and Sirius watched, amused, as Ed studied the broomstick, muttering random calculations. The blonde quieted and handed the broom back to James, disappointed. "I can't figure it out - how does it work? I know it's magic, but...scientifically speaking…" he trailed off.
Their days turned to weeks, and the students of Hogwarts settled in again. Ed managed, somehow, to not draw loads of attention to himself - other than the shouting that occurred whenever someone made jabs about his height, his amazing talent at Potions ('You're better than Lily Evans, dear boy,' Slughorn had chortled one day, 'It's a shame you're already taken by Amestris' government!'), and his uneasiness with Transfiguration.
Their time was mainly a jovial time - they'd begun their pranks and Ed wasn't half bad. However, more and more often, letters arrived, articles were written in newspapers. A powerful Dark wizard, Lord Voldemort, who'd been steadily gaining power in the last two or three years, was attacking frequently. His minions - Death Eaters - were killing Muggles and Muggle-borns, wreaking havoc all across England.
He wasn't nearly as powerful as Grindelwald had been, it seemed, and the students of Hogwarts, sheltered as they were, put him out of their minds easily. Ed took note of each attack; he'd been in a war before, and it was never pretty.
On October 3rd, he received a number of letters. He'd been looking gloomy all morning, but after reading the letters, his expression brightened considerably.
As time passed, the Marauders learned a bit more about him, and in return, he learned more about them - 'Equivalent Exchange', he said.
. . .
Halloween arrived. As they walked down to breakfast, James began talking about the upcoming party that Slughorn was hosting.
"Why?" Ed asked, eyes on a few bats flying overhead.
"It's a Halloween party," James said. The Marauders were all members of the Slug Club; James and Sirius were both sons of wealthy families, Remus was studious and excelled in several classes, and Peter was there by way of connection to the other three. Ed, of course, had been invited to the Slug Club - he was a representative from a fairly powerful nation, and immensely skilled at Potions.
However, only James and Remus bothered to attend; Peter was scared of Slughorn, since the man didn't particularly like him, and it was obvious; Ed and Sirius just didn't care.
Ed had first discovered Halloween a few days ago, when he overheard a group of students talking about it. He'd then turned to Remus and asked him what it was. Needless to say, the Marauders had been surprised to find that Amestris didn't have nearly as many holidays as England.
"Do I have to go?" Ed groaned at lunch, following James's declaration that all five were attending.
James smirked, "Yes. We're going." He ran a hand through his hair - more of a habit than anything, at this point. He'd begun wearing glasses recently, since his eyesight was getting worse, and they suited him.
"If you go to this one, we won't make you go to the Valentines Day one," Sirius told him, straight-faced.
Ed, slowly, grudgingly, as if chains were restraining it, held out his hand. "Fine."
"Great. It's at six, same place we have Slug Club in," Remus said, smiling wearily. If anything, he looked more tired than usual.
They all took seats at the Gryffindor table. Ed was reaching for a plate of bacon when Colonel Mustang came up to him, wearing his uniform - which he hadn't done since since their very first day at Hogwarts - and looking resigned.
"I've received orders from the Fuhrer," he sighed, "We have to go to Professor Slughorn's Halloween party. There are going to be several important Ministry officials there, and attending is a good way to forge stronger diplomatic bonds, he says. Wear your uniform, Fullmetal."
Ed groaned.
"Oh, and Fullmetal, Fuhrer Grumman wanted me to give this to you in person," the Colonel smirked, handing Ed a thick-looking envelope.
The blonde Amestrian eyed it suspiciously, then opened it and pulled a sheet of paper out. "'Major Edward Elric,'" he read aloud, "'I am pleased to announce your promotion to Colonel, in recognition of your part in the Promised Day. Enclosed is your shoulder insignia. A ceremony will not take place.'
"What a load of bullcrap!" Ed scowled, stuffing his letter in a pocket. "I'll wear the uniform, Colonel Bastard."
Mustang smirked again. "Actually," he gestured to each shoulder, "I'm General now, squirt."
He turned on his heel and walked away before Ed could start yelling at him about his height.
"You should be grateful you can still see," Ed muttered so quietly that not even Remus, who was sitting next to him, heard him.
The Promised Day, the day he had defeated Father and got Al's body back, had also taken Roy's eyesight. Ed had activated a human transmutation array so that he could bring his brother's body back, and offered up his Gate to do so. Truth, smiling as he always did, had proposed a different deal; his arm for Roy's eyesight, and part of his life for Al's body.
("Interesting deal, Mr. Al-che-mist," Truth grinned, waggling a finger at him, "but I don't want to. How about this instead; you give up your newly recovered arm and part of your life, and I'll give you back your brother's body, and the Flame Alchemist's eyesight."
Ed paused, thinking. "How much of my life?"
"Forty years, give or take. You'll live to be, say, fifty, sixty? Can't give out too many secrets! You're still young, Mr Al-che-mist," Truth's grin widened.
He sighed. "I accept your deal. Give me back my brother's body.")
Now, Al was in Resembool, recovering under the Rockbell's care, Roy could see, and Ed had thirty-four years left to live. Not that Al or Winry knew; he'd tell them when the time came.
"What's wrong, Ed?" James asked, shaking the blonde's shoulder, "You just got promoted, yeah?"
"It's not that - I couldn't care less about promotions. I was just thinking about something that happened a while ago."
James opened his mouth, but Sirius nudged him and whispered, "Don't push it, mate."
. . .
That evening, fifteen 'til six, Ed outside of the Gryffindor common room, dressed in his stiff blue uniform, his Colonel insignia on his shoulders, and a frown on his face.
Remus came out of the door, dressed in the finest clothing he owned - something that James had bought for him, a small grin on his face. Peter stumbled out behind him, dressed in a set of unflattering robes, his hair slicked back.
Upon seeing Ed, they were surprised. He looked older in his uniform, and it really drove home the fact that this boy, who was the same age as them, was in the military.
James and Sirius exited last, finding the other three sixteen-year-olds waiting outside for them. Both boys were dressed in fine robes - James's deep blue and Sirius's dark purple-black.
"Blimey, Ed," James said, looking his friend up and down, "You're really in the military. Looks good on you."
Ed scowled. "It's uncomfortable, and reminds me that I'm a dog of the military. Let's get this over with."
He turned on his heel and set off towards Slughorn's office, Peter trailing behind him. Sirius, James, and Remus all exchanged glances, then headed after him. "Anyone else get the feeling that Ed doesn't like parties?" Sirius asked, eyes on the blonde's retreating back.
They all arrived one minute before six, and Slughorn welcomed them into his office-turned-party with a smile. "Good to see you all - ah, Ed, let me introduce you to Julian Kooper, he's Head of Magical Sports and Games - helps organize the Quidditch World Cups every few years, you know - they were in Spain, lovely place, last year."
He took Ed by the arm and led him off. James spotted Lily Evans and ran over to charm her - "She's definitely softened since last year," James said, "She smiled at me just last week, I'm sure of it!" - leaving Remus, Sirius, and Peter to stand in the entrance, feeling awkward.
Professor Slughorn's office was magically enhanced to be large, and it was draped in orange, decorative cobwebs spanning the ceiling and sparkling, several bats fluttering around. There were a large number of floating candles and jack-o'-lanterns, and ghosts milled around, making conversation with the people there - students, Ministry officials, store-owners, Quidditch players, and many more.
At last Slughorn appeared again, nodding to himself, and saw the three waiting there. "Well, what are you boys waiting for? I've got lots of important people for you to meet. Enjoy yourselves, then!"
The plump professor disappeared once again into the crowd, and the three decided to go and find Ed.
When they did find him, the blonde was talking to a dark-haired man wearing thick glasses. As they drew nearer, Peter mumbled something about 'food' and headed over to the refreshments table.
"-does that really matter? The composition of steel is a suitable fit, you wouldn't have to change much," the wizard was saying, gesturing with his hands.
"That doesn't change the fact that alchemy is a precise art - you get one bit wrong, it rebounds. Trust me, you don't want that to happen," Ed said, voice heavy.
The wizard pondered that for a moment, then said, "You couldn't put me in touch with one of your State Alchemists? They'd be a great help to my research…"
The Amestrian frowned, "I don't need to put you in touch with one - I'm one - but that's beside to point. State Alchemists -"
"You're one? How old are you?" the wizard interjected.
"Sixteen. Listen, State Alchemists are strictly military officials. You'd have to go to the higher-ups, although I doubt-"
"Sixteen?" the man asked, incredulous, "and a State Alchemist?"
Ed pulled a pocket watch out and showed it to the man. "As I was saying, State Alchemists are in short supply, after Scar, and now, with conflict brewing on the borders with Drachma and Aerugo, they're all busy."
At that point, Remus pulled Sirius out of earshot. "He's an alchemist? I didn't know that..."
There was a loud crash behind them, and they whipped around, just in time to see Ed snarl, "Don't look into this anymore. Philosopher's Stones are abominations," and storm off.
The table had been turned over, the wizard was sprawled on the floor, shocked, and the party was silent.
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