Chapter 7 Forever's Tragedy
Edward was surviving on tablets. He could attend meals like a regular person; he just had to tolerate a certain blonde haired bastard at the staff table giving him glances every five minutes. During dinner, there was the buzz of Harry's yelling spree as well as a bit of his little dispute with the toad. He caught wisps of the alchemy class starting tomorrow. 'Wandless magic', those ignorant wizards described it. Wait till they find out that 'magic' came from muggles.
"So, Edward, are you attending Professor Hohenheim's class?" Hermione asked.
Edward almost choked on his potato at 'Professor'. He still preferred 'the bastard'. Ed then grunted, flipping a page of the book he was reading while eating.
"Harry, Ron and I are attending," Hermione said.
Ron actually choked on his potato. "We are?" he asked. Hermione nodded at him.
Edward swallowed. He didn't even take time to debate.
"No."
Well, damn the old man. Edward Elric could change his mind. And Ed did not want to attend a class about a subject he knew almost everything about. It was a complete waste of time.
"Well, I'm heading to the library," he said, getting up.
Dark magic. Dark magic. Edward skimmed through the books. Forbidden curses. Nope. Hexing the Dark. Nope. Darkness' Deepest Secrets. Maybe. Ed added the book to his growing pile. Dark Contracts. Dark Philosophy. Wizard's Greatest Darkness. Evil and Beyond. He piled up more books. Man, wizards had to create better names. Its 'dark' this, 'dark' that, no wonder so many go to the dark side. Edward snorted. His hand hovered over the spine of the last book in the shelf.
Pain erupted on his back. Faded like distant burning but sharp like his flesh was being carved out again.
Ed bit his lip, swallowing a scream. His hand grabbed the edge of the shelf as he stared at the book at the end of the shelf. He clenched his fists and his eyebrows knitted together. Edward bit his lip till it drew blood.
The Darkest Alchemy.
Not quite a creative name, but spelled out everything. Edward grabbed the book and sat down. He licked the blood off his lower lip and began flipping.
Who's the f**king bastard who wrote something like this? He thought, grabbing the hard cover of the book tightly, as if wanting to rip it to shreds. What's that old man thinking about letting this be in reach of the students? It's the library! Which idiot puts information like this in a library?
Ed skimmed through the contents page. Transmuting gold. Transmuting animals. Chimeras. Blood Seals. Human Transmutation. Human sacrifices. Homunculus. The Philosopher's Stone. Alchemic Contracts. The Gate. The Truth of Equivalent Exchange.
It was all there. Not even in code. Edward's eyes landed on the last page of the book, on the inside of the cover. There, etched in calligraphy writing, as clear as day.
Dear little Caged Bird,
Learn to use your blood. That is your key.
This is a book full of secrets. It is your life written on paper. That is your clue.
Tick tock tick tock, Edward Elric.
Ed let out a low growl, mostly at the word 'little'. The second part was a riddle. He knew what the first part meant. Use blood. His blood was full of philosopher's stone.
"Never," he muttered.
Suit yourself, Mr. Alchemist.
Who was he kidding? It was a meaningless struggle. You know who would win in the end. Who do you think you're fighting against? You may have forever. You may have eternity. It would be futile. Who do you think you're fighting against? Who do you think you are to fight against him? He is God. You can't win.
Charms was awesome because Ed found someone who looked older than him and was way shorter. He paid attention during Transfiguration, though disliking and refusing to transfigure his cat. All through the whole lesson Evie purred and scratched against his gloved flesh hand as McGonagall shot him the look. Edward quite enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures. Even though he disliked the teacher and her weird name, he found the class tolerable. Like the phoenix, like the thestral, there were little whispers that soothed his aching back and calmed the storm in his mind. He hid in the Gryffindor common room during Alchemy. Nobody looked for him, luckily.
Only after classes Edward found the time to go to the bathroom.
He snuck away from the prying eyes of the Golden Trio after grabbing the cursed alchemy book. He needed answers.
"Well lookie here, it's the homunculus roaming about the school." Ed jumped, turning around to meet face to face with a translucent girl wearing huge glasses and a Hogwarts uniform. "Don't worry, Mr. Homunculus. Nobody cares for Myrtle. Even if she gets eaten for being so close…" The ghost then broke down into moans. She sobbed before flying and diving into a toilet.
"So what can I do for you, Mr. Homunculus?" Myrtle appeared in front of Ed. Her eyes flickered at the black book in Ed's hands. "Oh, that reminds me of the book that was thrown at me three years ago. You're not gonna throw a book at Myrtle, are you?"
"First of all, no. Secondly, don't call me Mr. Homunculus," Ed snapped.
Myrtel was sobbing again. "Oh, I'm going to get eaten."
"I'm not eating you." Ed was annoyed now. "I just need some answers, that's all. Could you call that weirdly dressed ghost of the Gryffindor guy?"
"What's makes you think Myrtle can't answer your questions, Mr. Homunculus?" Then, she giggled like a fangirl. "I see you got Truth's message then," Myrtle said. "He's such a pushover. Deliver this, answer that. He never cares for Myrtle's feelings!" That ended with a shriek as Myrtle flew down the toilet bowl again.
"Don't mind her, lad," Nicholas popped up, straightening his neck. "Being the youngest ghost, she is closest to the Gate, you can say."
"So, the message?" Ed asked.
"It's probably true. We can't interfere. Something this direct from God himself. We don't want to be damned to the deepest levels of the Gate, do we?" Nick said, shaking his head. How did he do that without his head dropping off?
Ed groaned. He had to figure it out himself. He rubbed his stomach unconsciously.
"Any other queries, Mr. Elric?" Nicholas asked, giving a broad grin. It seems that he was more comfortable around the so called homunculus. He didn't eat any of them, and was rather…human.
Ed thought for a while. "Hmm… The magical creatures seem to be rather…friendly lately."
"You can hear them," Sir Nicholas gasped. "That is very…odd for your kind. The creatures are so called furthest from the Gate. They are not within Truth's grasp. They are what you call, free." Nick looked rather peaceful. "Beautiful creatures, unbound from the Gate, when they die they are reincarnated. Always, always reincarnated into something different."
"Oh…" Ed said. He was rubbing his fingers together in a rather longing way. "Is it pity?" he asked.
"You do not like pity, do you, Edward?" Nick asked. "Perhaps. But maybe it is because the creatures are known for bearing into one's soul. Especially the eyes of the thestrals. Maybe they see in you something more than your outer shell. Perhaps because they see, they want to save you. You know, from..."
"What?" Ed asked.
"I said too much to a Homunculus," Nicholas chuckled. He gestured to the black book. "Maybe that can shed some light, Edward."
"Hmm," Ed said. "All right. I'd better go. Harry's probably frantically searching for me. He's sometimes too curious for his own good."
Nicholas laughed heartily. "Good day, Edward."
Last night, Edward found a little information in the midst of the books. He had asked the librarian for permission to stay for the night.
"Well, Professor Hohenheim said something like this would happen," she said kindly. "He said to let you as you won't leave without a fight and I won't want that to happen in my library."
Ed almost laughed. He found out that soul related dark magic could be life draining contracts, special curses and the dementor's kiss. He too did a little research on Harry, Voldy-whats-his-name, the Ministry and a fake philosopher's stone that stayed at Hogwarts for a year. But he never opened the book. He hardly touched it.
Basically, he put an all-nighter.
He couldn't sleep, that's all. Not with that cryptic message.
As Ed remembered the research from last night, he surrendered. He finally admitted he needed Harry Potter and his information on Voldy. And also the fake philosopher's stone. Reading from books won't solve the whole mystery. Ed sighed at the fact.
Maybe he could pray no one would be too involved.
Ed snorted. Something more, huh?
Something human?
He then growled under his breath. "I don't need saving."
And as Edward guessed, Harry was searching for him. He pulled out his famous piece of parchment and tapped his wand saying, "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."
He saw Ed's name in a pretty weird place. Well, staying in a girls' bathroom to talk to ghosts for ten minutes was pretty weird.
And as usual, Harry told Hermione and Ron. They made up their minds to check on Myrtle sooner or later.
Dinner came and went with Angelina's screaming.
"I'm going to the library," Ed said, getting up.
"But we have detention with Umbridge," Harry said.
Damn. Wanted to forget about that. Edward at that moment really missed travelling with Al. And he felt immense dislike for school.
"Let's just get the torture over and done with," Ed muttered. "Wanna bet how much pink would be in her office?"
Answer to Ed's question: A lot, a lot, a lot of pink. It practically covered everything except the ceiling and furniture. But there were lacy velvet tablecloths draped over the poor tables. Ed wanted to puke, again. This must be what it feels like to swallow your own vomit. He thought, wondering whether he ever did it before.
"Good evening, Mr. Potter, Mr. Elric."
The toad finally figured out my name. Ed thought. Perhaps she grew a brain overnight.
"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Harry said stiffly. Ed gave a grunt.
Umbridge merely smirked. That was not a good sign.
Then Harry asked to skip detention for the Gryffindor Quidy-something tryouts.
"Oh, no," the toad said, smiling like she just swallowed a fly.
"I don't see any harm done. So why not?" Ed interrupted.
"You see, Mr. Elric. That is his punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories," she said but was interrupted before her next sentence.
"You have no proof that what he said was lies. You also have no proof that what he said was the truth. So what does that make it? If you keep this up it'll look like you're picking on a particular student, isn't that right, Professor Umbridge?"
The toad's eyes bulged. Ed wondered if her throat would puff up like some frogs. "Interrupting is rather rude, Mr. Elric."
Edward cut in before she could say anything else. "Technically you finished your sentence. So as the punctuation is implied there, it is not interrupting as you have finished speaking."
"That is enough, Mr. Elric. You and Mr. Potter will be here until the end of this week."
Harry would be finding it very hard to control his temper. But Edward was smart mouthing her making it was hilarious, he instead found it difficult to stop laughing.
"Now, you'll be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quill," she said in a honeyed tone, handing the both of them a black quill that smelt like trouble. "Mr. Potter, I want you to write, I must not tell lies."
"You haven't given me any ink."
"Oh, you won't need ink," Umbridge then turned to Ed. He inwardly groaned. "Mr. Elric, I want you to write, I will not speak unless spoken to."
Edward grunted. He heard a gasp from the table next to him. Glancing at Harry, Ed's eyes widened and he gritted his teeth, catching a glimpse of the cut skin before it healed.
"Yes?"
Ed gave one of the most dagger filled glares. He opened his mouth to speak when Umbridge said, "Mr. Elric, you have to learn lessons are not a debate competition."
"I have a high tolerance for pain," he muttered, staring at his own parchment. Damn instant regeneration. This is how Truth gets back at me for the blood thing?
The philosopher's stone are souls. He would not use them for something so minor. Ed thought stubbornly. He didn't have much time. He needed to start writing before toad bitch suspects anything. Changing components in my blood with an array, would that stop the regeneration? Damn, they'll notice something's up. Ed needed to stop the healing. It's like your own soul. It's just part of your soul. Stop the energy that's flowing.
No one ever tried stopping instant regeneration. Apparently, it was handy. It would definitely attract a lot of unwanted attention but the homunculi didn't seem to mind. Edward really didn't want any more complications. He strained his brain concentrating on controlling the energy from the philosopher's stone embedding in his soul.
He began writing.
The skin on Edward's hand began burning, stinging with searing pain as the words scratched themselves on his skin. And without the red sparks of electricity, it healed and smoothed out, just like Harry's hand, leaving a rash like patch.
Then, Ed began writing at a fast speed. Keeping his body busy helped in the concentration. And he just kept hanging on until the end of detention.
The words would leave a scar sooner or later.
Mr. Alchemist, you really are the biggest idiot I have chosen. You're flat out refusing this wonderful gift from me. Such an idiot, a waste of my generosity. Then how did you come so far?
Why do you insist on acting so human?
Because of your brother? Because of that father? Because of the people you don't want to involve?
But so strong to complete something no one has ever done. So strong to obtain such control over the raw energy that is the philosopher's stone. Is it out of stubbornness? Is it out of fear? Perhaps out of love?
But such a hopeless struggle, little birdie.
In the end you're still in the cage.
You still belong to me.
Still part of forever's tragedy.
Edward was absolutely exhausted. He could feel his stomach doing flips and cartwheels. He didn't show that on his face though.
He was so tired he didn't notice the piece of parchment. Harry's was full of red words. Red 'ink'. His parchment was very much filled. The words were black.
Once Ed was free from that frilly pink hellhole, he cursed and swore like there was no tomorrow, waking a few annoyed and disgusted paintings. But as usual, he didn't give a damn. Harry was feeling rather intimidated, I guess. He silently absorbed the part about 'f**king Umbitch, gonna make her life hell', as Ed threw his tantrum. It was getting dark and they had to get back to the common room soon.
"Rough night?" a voice asked, kind with a hint of amusement. There was the shuffling of feet and a door opening. Ed spotted the golden blonde hair. Harry stopped in his tracks.
"Professor Hohenheim," Harry said. Ed tensed and gave a glare at the figure that appeared from a classroom. The door was shut with hardly a sound.
"Well," Hohenheim said before yawning. "No use crying over spilt milk."
Who would cry over that junk? Ed thought. He began walking, wanting to prevent any sort of conversation from happening. The common room was not far ahead hopefully, depending on whether he was going in the right direction.
"Edward, can I speak with you in private for a moment?" Hohenheim caught up with Harry behind him.
"No."
Hohenheim shooed Harry away as Ed took a turn into another corridor. Instinct told him it was the wrong turn but he wasn't heading there anymore. Not towards the common room, not towards the library.
"You didn't come to class anyway."
Ed ignored him.
"Don't know what Albus was thinking." Hohenheim sighed. "It would be useless anyway. What I'm teaching is so basic and the only one who can grasp it is Miss. Granger."
Ed remained silent; his pace became quick, even though he was heading to nowhere. The corridor was grey and moonlight gazed down from the windows. Everything seemed still. There was no wind even though they were on a somewhat high floor. Crickets chirped and the forbidden forest looked even darker and gloomier from where the two blondes were. Everything was still, almost dead.
"A cold war, Edward?" Hohenheim asked, sighing. "But it's strange. You said 'for Alphonse' and yet..."
"You don't have the right to talk about Al," Ed growled. His hands were clenched up, white gloves crinkling. "Last time, Al forgave you. If Al were here, he would go to your class." Ed's hand reached to his chest. "His soul is part of the philosopher's stone." Edward clutched his chest like it was hurting. "But in the end, he's not really here, is he?"
Ed had slowed down, taking glances at the forest from outside the windows. He just outright refused to look at Hohenheim. "Do you blame me?" the deserting father asked in a heavy voice, like each word was lead.
"No. It was stupidity that caused this," Edward muttered.
"Then, if I told you to stop, would you?" Hohenheim then grasped the shoulder of his son. "Forfeit the game." It was neither a demand nor a request. It was almost like a plea.
"Who would pay the penalty?" Ed asked, his voice becoming fiercer. He did not like the begging tone. It sounded like pity. Edward did not like being pitied. He loathed it.
"I would," Hohenheim said. "You can move on in life. Here…"
"You have no right, Hohenheim!" Edward snarled. His outburst rang through the deserted corridor.
That caused a long silence between them. Hohenheim looked like he was wallowing in grief, his eyes just staring at the ground as if focusing on the footsteps of both his and his son's feet.
"I met Ai," Hohenheim finally said. "What she said…that you…about the game…" he fumbled, trying to find the right words. "Its…It's like an incurable disease."
Ed snorted. "That's stupid." He began walking really fast again.
"I know…" But it really looked like that kind of pain. "It's just that I want to help and…"
"Don't need it, bastard," Ed spat out. He then turned and finally decided to head to the common room. He wanted a nice, comfy bed tonight.
"Dumbledore's phoenix sang to you," Hohenheim suddenly said, totally random.
"It must be a dumb bird, singing to a homunculus," Ed muttered under his breath. His father could hear the almost inaudible sound pretty well though.
"You're not the bad person."
Ed felt him trying to reach out. And Ed's defenses came out almost instantly. He didn't need anyone. He didn't want anyone. His eyes flashed, different emotions appearing a fading within nanoseconds. And his eyes were cold at the end, a sense of hurt and betrayal.
"If you want to help, you can by leaving me alone. Like those fifteen years. Everything was fine then."
Hohenheim froze in his footsteps as the shadow of his son disappeared by the corner.
You are striving forward with your two feet. But the path is filled with thorns, broken glass, red hot charcoal and awaiting snakes. Walking forward hurts. Yet there is no one beside you to ease the pain, or at lease share it with you.
Hohenheim was biting his lip as he removed his glasses, clenching them in his hand. His shoulders trembled as his rubbed his temples with the other hand, fighting back a nonexistent headache. Tears seeped and trickled from behind the hand that covered his eyes.
Fathers cry when their children are suffering. Being four hundred years old doesn't change that fact.
Hohenheim wanted to atone. But when he muttered a 'sorry' no one could hear him. Except the wind, perhaps. But that night was as still as death, so there was no wind that could carry his apology.
Hello
I don't own Harry Potter or FMA, I just torture the characters a bit.
I feel so good after this chapter :)… Was it all right? Review please.
Okay, so I'll start with telling you there will be some implied Naruto themes. Just a tiny bit coming up soon. I canceled Ed's alchemy class because I really have no idea how that would go...sorry…
The library scene was sort of meant to creep people out. I mean, even I was creeped out when I wrote it. Maybe it's just me; it is 3am in the morning… If you can guess what Truth's second riddle is, feel free to review me your thoughts.
The toilet scene okay, I guess. Myrtle's only Truth's messenger, warped I know. Nick's so far the only ghost who is perfectly comfortable with holding a conversation with Ed. He thinks Ed is a good guy, despite being a dreaded homunculus. So in Hogwarts, Nick is Ed's first friend. The part about magical creatures would be explained in more detail in the next chapter.
Umbridge's detention was nice because of Ed's backtalking. But then things start to go downhill. I think the part about instant regeneration was a little confusing, wasn't it? I seriously need feedback on that. Ed just doesn't like using other people's souls. Suggestions perhaps? Help is much appreciated :)
Hohenheim's talk was touching? I wanna cry…
THANK YOU SO MUCH for all your support, reviews and everything! :)
ssapphireangel
