MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM: DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR
Ed scanned the title of the newspaper, and he suspected nothing good. He squinted his eyes to check his English reading skill; yes, Umbridge herself was appointed a new job - 'High Inquisitor', whatever that meant.
He grimaced at the large picture spread at the top of the page. She was smiling widely, waving happily as if she was welcoming kindergarteners to their new big school.
The fact that the Ministry of Magic was 'looking after' the education of Hogwarts reminded him of how Umbridge had spoken, her tone and words making it evident she wanted the students to feel grateful for 'fixing' their education and turning it towards the right direction. He widened his eyes at the words spoken by this 'Percy Weasley.' Surely someone who seemed to stand with the Ministry and helped with the new 'legislation' couldn't be related to a family like the Weasleys? The newspaper seemed to be mostly mere propaganda, Ed noticed, saying that Umbridge had been an 'immediate success' and was 'revolutionising the teaching of Defence Against the Dark Arts'.
Ed thought back to his first time at Hogwarts, at the feast after Umbridge's introductory speech, how Hermione said that the Ministry was beginning to interfere at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but admire her prediction for being right. Someone named Lucius Malfoy had spoken in the paper, and Ed couldn't help but think that this Lucius was definitely related to the Malfoy he had met here in the school. Malfoy had been right about one thing; he had said that his family had good connections. Apparently this was the leading factor to have a mansion, as the newspaper said.
Ed pondered a little over one paragraph, speaking of 'controversial' teachers. Werewolf Remus Lupin... his thoughts flashed to a man wearing shabby robes, the one who had given him his school books, the one with a kind smile. He was a werewolf? Ed's mind burned with questions, and he wasn't sure whether they were going to be answered. Half-giant Rubeus Hagrid... Delusional ex-Auror "Mad-Eye" Moody... Harry had told Ed that that Moody was an imposter, the Moody at the school. The 'controversial' teachers reminded Ed a little of the discrimination in Amestris against survivors and their children in the Ishval War.
He agreed with the last part, when it said that two people had resigned over their jobs at the 'Wizengamot' (whatever that was), and that one of them said it was a 'further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.'
What the fucking hell, wizards. In Ed's opinion, they seemed like they were very slow in believing.
News of Umbridge's new appointment as Inquisitor had spread quicker than Harry and Umbridge's argument in class; the whole Gryffindor table had a copy of the Daily Prophet - not just Gryffindor, but other houses too. Ed could faintly hear Malfoy in the Slytherin table, boasting about how his father had received an 'exclusive' interview with the Prophet.
The paper had said that Umbridge was to expect other teachers, and Ed made a note to tell Mustang the next time he saw him to keep more of a watchful eye around Umbridge. He had been more angry with Umbridge now, since she had issued them the book, since Ed had read the stupid book on 'alchemy.'
History of Magic had been most of a blur for Ed, with their ghost teacher lecturing on and on as usual. Most of his classmates had drifted off to sleep; Hermione, however, took down notes frantically, and Ed noticed she was the only one doing this. Umbridge had not come to inspect the lesson, and Ed could understand a little; as soon as Binns' voice reached her ears she would've already entered the land of Nod.
Double Potions was next, and Snape handed back the essays for the uses of moonstone in potion-making. "I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you had written this for OWL," he smirked, and Ed suspected that the smirk was for the Gryffindors and the Gryffindors alone. "OWL expectations are high; this is only a small taste of what you will be expecting." He went on to explain that the homework was done at such a dreadful standard, and that most of the class would have failed the exams with their 'D' marks.
When the professor had handed back Ed's essay, he glanced at the top right corner; a sleek black 'E' covered most of the certain area.
"Your theory work seems to be... acceptable enough, definitely exceeding my expectations. This would be the paper that would give you a little of a higher mark, as your potion-making is terribly abysmal."
Ed sighed as he left. Some of his fellow peers looked at him with mouths open; Ron and his friends were sitting on the table next to his; he mouthed How did you do that? Ed looked back at his paper; it was an essay that he had bullshit the whole way through, after a cram session in the library. However, judging by his classmates' faces, 'E' must have been a good grade, though he did not understand what it meant. He placed it in his bag, and opened his book to prepare for the Strengthening Solution. It was a little easier, but almost as complicated and fiddly as the Draught of Peace from before. Ed felt pleased with his result - he was sure that he had been careful with measurements, and placing them in with precision and accuracy, but with Snape's steely glare at his sample as he placed it on his desk made Ed wonder whether he had forgotten something.
He, for the first time, joined Harry and his friends out of his own will at the lunch table, but Ed was sure to keep enough space between himself and them. Hermione talked quickly, on and on, about the grades and the homework and the preparation for OWLs, and he was sure that she was killing the neutral mood throughout their space at the table.
Ed had been surprised when Ron had said he had received a 'P' for his essay; and was even more surprised when he learned, through the Weasley twins and their friend that the magical marking system had included three fail grades - 'P' meaning 'Poor', and 'D' - Dreadful.
"So, Elric, m'boy," Fred (or George?) slapped him hard on the back. "What did you get for Snape's essay?"
Ed mumbled through a mouthful of pie, then he swallowed and said, still with softness in his tone, "'E'", and Hermione dropped her spoon onto the floor.
"Whoa, it takes a miracle to get that in Snape's class," George whistled.
"Especially when you're in the Gryffindor house," the twins' friend agreed. "Or is it because you're the 'new foreign student?' That's bound to die down soon."
Back in Amestris, its education system had also had a marking structure, except that it was a lot easier - at least Ed remembered back in elementary, but he was sure the marking applied for higher and secondary education as well. It had included A, B, C, D and E - with different achievements: the higher the letter, the higher the achievement and mark. Hogwarts seemed to want to put down its students a lot, Ed thought, as he learned new marks: 'O' for Outstanding, 'E' meant 'Exceeds Expectations' (he had not laughed with the others when the twins said their joke), and the final pass grade being 'A' - 'Acceptable.' But he did not understand the need to put students down by giving them grades such as 'Poor', 'Dreadful', and even worse, 'Troll.'
"What's the marking system back in Amestris?" Ron asked Ed, who had looked up from reaching for a second helping of lunch.
He swallowed. "Well... easier."
"Easier. That's refreshing to hear," smirked George. Thankfully, the discussion had quickly headed towards lessons inspected by Umbridge. When lunch was finished, Harry and Ron headed to Divination, Hermione to her strangely-sounding-like-the-word-arithmetic subject, and Ed stood and went to the library.
He didn't really like the books from there, and he had gained a little dislike for the wizards already because of their interpretation of alchemy. They were very lacking in information, and it was as if advanced alchemy was non-existent. Even the most rudimentary texts in the state-alchemist-exclusive archives of the Central Library contained more useful alchemic knowledge than the books he found in Hogwarts. But still, it was worth to still look.
Harry took out his two books needed for Defence Against the Dark Arts: Defensive Magical Theory, and Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy.
He had barely read the former book, while reading none of the latter at all. And if Elric thought it was all wrong, all trash, he wondered if there was any reason to even bother reading it. Umbridge instructed everyone to put their wands away, and Harry watched the few hopeful, now disappointed, return them to their bags. "I assume you have read Chapter 1 of Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy?" Unbeknownst to her, Mustang made a slight forced cough behind, and for a second his face had shown partial disgust. "Please turn to page nineteen of Defensive Magical Theory and commence 'Chapter Two, Common Defensive Theories and their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."
A large defeated sigh was heard throughout the whole room, and then silence fell, the only sounds being the flipping of pages and the occasional scratching of quill on parchment. To his surprise, Hermione had instantly shot her hand up.
Umbridge, probably not wanting a repeat of their first lesson, walked over to Hermione and whispered in her ear, and Harry leaned closer towards page nineteen, hoping to eavesdrop: "What is it, Miss Granger?"
"I've already read Chapter Two," and Harry almost rolled his eyes. Hermione may be one of his best friends, but hell, was she an overachiever. Umbridge told her to proceed to the next chapter, then to Harry's non-amazement, she had finished the whole book. Then Umbridge told her to read Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy, Chapter Two. To even more non-surprise, he found out Hermione had already completed the book.
"Well, then, for Defensive Magical Theory, I would like you to tell me what Slinkhard states in Chapter Fifteen. About counter-jinxes, dear." Her voice dripped of a challenge, and it seemed like it was a challenge Hermione was ready to take. The rest of the class had halted their reading and stared at her.
"Counter-jinxes are improperly named," Hermione said. "That's what he states. He says the name 'counter-jinx' is a name given to jinxes when the namer wishes to make them sound a lot more acceptable. But," Hermione continued as Umbridge opened her mouth, "I disagree. I have a few other disagreements with the alchemy book you set us, too."
Elric, who had been sitting a few tables away, had been busy doing God knows what, until Hermione had mentioned the alchemy book. He sat up straight, and even though Harry couldn't see his expression properly, through his long bangs, he knew that he was listening intently to every word. Mustang had also looked up from his marking of parchments, and he turned his gaze towards Hermione.
"It mentions almost nothing about the alchemy laws. The number one rule of alchemy is the Equivalent Exchange, and its two sub-laws birthed of it are the laws of Mass Conservation and Providence. The principle is the same: to create, something of equal value must be lost. But none of that is mentioned here in the book. It's mostly nonsense about how alchemy is like the offspring of magic, created by Muggles who had discovered wizards and wanted to create magic at all-"
"Well, Miss Granger, for both books, this is not your business to contradict them," Umbridge said rather sharply. "Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger."
Cue the outbreak of angry and indignant muttering and gasps at this. Harry suddenly stood up.
"What for?!" he spluttered angrily, ignoring Hermione's warnings and pleas to not get involved.
"Sit down, Mr Potter," Umbridge said, making her stupid hem hem cough that Harry doubted the genuineness of. She turned back to Hermione. "The five points are for the pointless disruption of my class. Miss Granger, know you are still a young woman. You are not a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and you are not an alchemist-"
"Ask them, then!" Harry indignantly pointed to Elric, who widened his eyes into round circles, and then at Mustang, who did the same. "They're alchemists, they'll know whether what Hermione is saying is right or not! If it's a basic law, they're bound to know what it is-"
"Ten points from Gryffindor for interruption, Mr Potter!" Umbridge said, almost triumphantly. She continued on with a speech, sounding as if she was quite fond of the words 'Ministry-approved' and that 'wrong' opinions barely mattered. She mentioned Professor Quirrell, and Harry's memories of that teacher, that turban and what lay concealed within it caused him to say, coldly and loudly, "Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher, Don't mind the tiny drawback of him having Lord Voldemort hiding under his oversized purple turban."
Silence. A long, painful silence. The class looked at him, some slapped their foreheads, others just stared. But none of that mattered, it did not change Umbridge's final verdict:
"I think another detention would be able to teach you to keep in line, Mr Potter."
Harry sat down, anger seething through his bones, flowing through his blood. Hermione whispered to him, "I told you not to interfere-" but Harry paid no attention to these words. No point now, especially when he had to go back and face the Blood Quill, spending hour upon hour bleeding, 'I must not tell lies' being etched more and more deeply into his skin. There was silence for another ten minutes, then Elric put up his hand. Umbridge looked at him sweetly with her ugly toad face, and said in an even worse sweet voice, with a sweet smile enough to rot the teeth off anyone, "What is it, Mr Elric?"
"I think what Hermione say is right. Read book as well. Does not contain any of Equivalent Exchange, or any other laws in alchemy. Book does not contain any correct information-"
"Mr Elric, I understand you are new here, but you must abide by the rules in this magical world. This is what the magical world believe in the topic of alchemy, Ministry-approved-"
"-then change your stupid f- Ministry," Elric said angrily, and Harry thought it was good that he had restrained himself from saying the 'f'-word in front of the teacher, especially Umbridge. "This is wrong... book is wrong. Get proper alchemists to write it. Do not write about topics that you not know nothing of." Elric coughed. "And Potter... I remember last lesson. How do you know that it was not your dark wizard that killed this Cedric person? Perhaps he could be back."
A silence, a little more painful than the one than the one for Harry, then -
"Five points from Gryffindor, Mr Elric, and I think detention tonight would help you to understand... and I think that Mr Potter has been spreading his fibs to you as well. Tonight, Mr Elric, with Mr Potter. Just tonight, Mr Elric, to write lines. I hope to see you there..."
Elric said nothing; he did not look angry, instead he took Defensive Magical Theory and read Chapter Two, not paying attention to the stares he had received, or the shocked expressions. Umbridge looked pleased with herself, making a small hem hem cough and then returning to her desk. Harry looked at Mustang; he seemed to be confused as well. I guess Elric was really that mad about the book... Harry thought, but why had he mentioned Cedric Diggory and Voldemort? There had been no need to do so. This made Harry suspect that Elric's disruption and his statements was a plan, to get himself into detention. Either that or he had a good memory, along with a short temper. Maybe both.
There was a reason why Elric had decided to go into detention, and Harry wanted to know why. But the alchemist seemed to avoid him a lot in the hours following the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson; he was the last to arrive in the classroom and the first to pack up his things speedily and leave. At dinner, the alchemist sat far from them and everyone else, and Harry noticed Nearly Headless Nick wander over to him, making Elric a little nervous and uncomfortable. Then Ed stood and left the table hastily after his short encounter with the ghost.
The time for detention came, and Harry was surprised to see Elric not too far from him as he opened the door to the office. He winced at the pink explosion in Umbridge's office; he had hoped never to see them again. I guess I was wrong, Harry thought as he took his place at the desk. Elric closed the door, and without making any eye contact with Harry or Umbridge, took his seat next to him.
"Alright," Umbridge clapped her hands together twice, as if she was about to begin a show of some sort, "you know what to do, Mr Potter. Mr Elric - oh, there's no need for quills, dear," she quipped as Elric took out his feather quill and began to place it on the table. Still expressionless, the Amestrian returned the quill and waited patiently, tapping his forefinger lightly on the table. "You'll be using one of mine... I'll just prepare it... the ink..."
She got out the Blood Quill for Harry, and watched as she got out another one for Elric. She has another one? he thought irritably. But before Umbridge gave Elric the quill, she said, "Please take off your gloves for me, Mr Elric? I'm sure you don't need them for the detention. You can always put them back on when the detention is done."
Elric gave her a steely glare. "So gloves are not needed?"
"No, they are not. I ask of you to take them off. There is no reason-"
"I am not required or needed to divulge my reasons," Elric said quietly. "Due to these reasons, am permitted to keep gloves on. Besides, just writing lines. There is no no need to take off gloves for writing lines, is there not?"
Umbridge frowned. "I will speak to the Headmaster about these 'reasons', Mr Elric." She handed him the Blood Quill, and Harry was sure that she had only let him go because he was a new student, and that he could easily report to Mustang about the truth of the quills used. But through what Harry remembered, he was sure he had never seen Elric without his gloves. He was only sure he had taken them off because at the end of the day, the gloves had a little dirt, sweat or grease, and the next day, the gloves were all good and clean and new and fresh. But he was sure he never saw Elric without them.
Elric took the Quill in his right hand. Umbridge glanced at him and said, "You know the routine, Mr Potter... 'I must not tell lies', unless you've forgotten. And Mr Elric... 'I must not talk back.' You may start now."
Harry slowly began writing the letter 'I', pain instantly searing through the words cut in his hand. The wound was slowly beginning to heal now that it had not been opened and and re-opened every night. He sighed, and thought of plenty of swear words he would've liked to say in Umbridge's face. He almost smiled. It almost made him forget the pain. Careful not to let out any signs that he was struggling against the pain, Harry took a glance to the right to Elric, who looked confused. He put up his hand, and Umbridge asked sweetly, as if they weren't in detention, "Yes?"
"Need writing thingy... ink," he replied.
"Oh, no," Umbridge smiled even wider. "Just write. It's magic," she added, probably to make Elric interested, but he simply nodded with no expression visible on his face, and Harry wished he could have warned him about the Blood Quill sooner. She turned away, but to her surprise, Elric shook his head and said, "Does not work."
"What do you mean? Surely..." To demonstrate, Elric placed down his quill and began to write 'I must not talk back', but no ink appeared - or more precisely, there was no instant opening of wound, not a single drop of red liquid staining the white fabric of the glove. Umbridge widened her eyes, and said, "Well... that must be faulty... wait here, Mr Elric..." Umbridge shuffled away, and handed Elric another Blood Quill. The alchemist took the new quill, and began to write, but shook his head and said, "Is faulty too." This process repeated and repeated again and again, it took Harry's mind away from the pain in his hand as he wrote. As Umbridge shuffled away for what seemed the umpteenth time, Harry showed Elric his hand and mouthed: This is what she will do to you.
Elric widened his eyes in horror seeing 'I must not tell lies' carved into his skin, then he mouthed something like: Do not worry. I will sort this out.
Harry sighed, and quickly resumed his lines as Umbridge came back with her Blood Quill. "Right," she breathed. "This is the last. I don't have anymore. Try this, Mr Elric."
Elric tried it again. No ink. Umbridge bit her lip, and Harry was sure she was struggling to refrain from shouting at him. At last, after a long pause, Umbridge went out, then returned with a pot of ink and a different quill - a pink, over-the-top feathery one, with sparkles and glitter. Behind Umbridge's back, Elric winced, and Harry couldn't help but do the same. "Now, Mr Elric," she smiled, "please start your lines." Elric nodded, and he dipped his quill in the dark purple ink. Umbridge noticed Harry looking at him, and she said, "Now, Mr Potter, staring is considered rude manners... please continue your lines."
When they finally were allowed out, Harry clutching his wounded hand in the other, he saw Elric rush out and head towards the dormitory at quite a fast speed. "Hey, wait - ELRIC!" and finally, the alchemist turned around. "What you want?"
"How did you do that?"
"Do what?" Elric looked genuinely confused.
"The Blood Quill, look what she did to me!" Elric gazed observantly at the words 'I must not tell lies' and nodded, and Harry continued, "But it didn't work for you - how in hell weren't you able to use Umbridge's quill?"
He braved a small smile. "Am special that way." As Elric turned to leave, Harry had a second thought pass through his mind, and he asked, "Elric, what's Hagane?"
"Hagane?" Ed replied, and Harry commended himself for pronouncing it right. "Yeah. What does it mean?"
"Eh... Well... I do not know proper translation for word." He looked at Harry curiously. "How you know word Hagane? It's Amestrian."
"Well, Mustang mentioned the name when talking to me once," Harry said, and he decided not to tell Elric the full story, the time when Mustang confronted him and named Elric as Hagane. Elric himself tapped his chin thoughtfully, and said, "Hagane. Um... do not know exact translation, but I am very sure... translation book... it says that it means 'steel.'"
"Steel?"
"Steel. Like sword steel. Hard steel. You know."
Then he rushed away.
"So he wasn't able to use the quill?" Ron asked. As Harry nodded, he bit his lip. "She should've at least given another quill to you..."
"What good would that make?" Harry scoffed indignantly. He held his scarred right hand in his other. "Besides, she wants the message of not telling lies to, ah, well... sink in." He laughed weakly. "Sorry, that was a bad joke."
"Or at least make Elric use his left hand..."
Hermione clicked her tongue. "I still am sure I want you to tell someone about this..."
"I'm telling you two, right?"
"You know what I mean, Harry! Tell someone other than us that we can trust. If you don't want Dumbledore or McGonagall to know, tell Elric! He was in detention with you as well; did you tell him?"
Harry shook his head. Hermione clicked her tongue in disapproval again, then replied, "You shouldn't lose your temper at Umbridge again." As Harry opened his mouth to protest, she replied, "Angelina got mad at you again, didn't she, because you got into detention? And McGonagall took five points off of Gryffindor... you deserved those five points being taken away, to be frank, as much as I didn't want those points to be taken off-"
"Whose side are you on, Hermione?" Ron gaped.
"No-one's!" she yelped. "What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't lose your temper at Umbridge again if you want to play Quidditch-"
"It's not like I don't want to play Quidditch," Harry grumbled. "I could be playing Quidditch, but no, I have to get stuck writing 'lines' for that Umbridge bastard for telling 'lies.'" He made quotation marks with his fingers at the last word. "Every night, my hand is being sliced open - Ah, forget it. I'm going up to bed."
He stormed away.
Umbridge's inspection of McGonagall had seemed to go well. Ed, noticing that he had carried the newspaper from breakfast (one with a large picture of the Minister of Magic waving, a plastered grin on his face), secretly used alchemy to change it into blank rolls of parchment. He saw Umbridge from the corner of his eye as he entered McGonagall's classroom, a clipboard and a quill accompanying her.
They had all received their essays back, and Ed was happy to see an 'O' on his paper on alchemy and magic in the field of Transfiguration, followed with the comment: Well written. However, please refrain from writing your essays in the future that seem to bad-mouth magic - Ed knew she was talking about how he had wrote a few negative criticisms on Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy.
The whole class was now going to focus on the Vanishment of mice. However, it was clearly evident that Umbridge wanted to have the attention focused to her on the class, but Ed felt impressed at the ways McGonagall used to shut her and her stupid hem, hem coughs down. Ed smiled at the end of the lesson - Umbridge was looking fairly dismal, a grim expression clearly seen on every part of her face.
She had also went to inspect their class of Care of Magical Creatures, and Ed brought out his Bowtruckle drawing. He thought it was average, as drawing had never been a strength of his, especially with an automail arm - he had began learning to write properly with his metal arm immediately after the success of the automail implant surgery, but he had never bothered to draw with it. He felt that it was also hard trying to draw a Bowtruckle running around the table and struggling in his left fist when he had finally caught it, then it had almost died under Ed's compressing squeeze of his fist. The way he saw it, the quicker he drew the Bowtruckles, the sooner he wouldn't have to lay his gaze upon those horrible twig things, and that was good.
Ed had already collected enough information that Grubbly-Plank was not their usual teacher for the class; this person called 'Hagrid' was, and judging by the majority of the students' words, their attitude towards Hagrid and this class was not a positive one.
But what made Ed bury his face into his hands was the fact that Harry had lost his temper yet again, and it was not even a Defence Against the Dark Arts class. It had begun with Draco Malfoy, and how a 'Hippogriff' had attacked him in his earlier years. "Only because he was too stupid to listen to what Hagrid told him to do," Harry shot back angrily.
His two friends groaned in unison, almost like a song as Umbridge declared another night of detention for Harry.
When the bell sounded for the end of the period, he had been stopped from leaving by Malfoy. "Hey, Elric."
"What?" he felt irritated. I want to go to the library...
"Did you read Magical Theory on the Art of Alchemy?" Malfoy asked, and Ed's lip curled in annoyance at the mention of that fucking book.
"It is, well, very... lacking..." Ed replied. What the fucking hell, wizards, he thought. The word 'lacking' is just on top of the heap for that damn book...
"Well, yes. This is why I have to ask you a favour-"
"No," Ed replied firmly.
"What? You did not even know what I was going to ask-"
"You are going to ask me to teach you alchemy," Ed said. "And I refuse."
He left the class, sprinting away to the library. When he went there, he went back to the tiny alchemy section and skimmed through the book. Looking back at it, the texts in the Hogwarts library were very lacking, and the content was very little, despite the fact Hogwarts was larger than Central National Library's and had a hundredfold more resources. He went to place back the book, and was surprised to see Mustang there.
"Mustang!" Ed spluttered. He looked around quickly, then whispered, "What are you doing here?"
"Getting a book," the Flame Alchemist shrugged in response. "Isn't that what everyone does when they get to the library? Anyway... how was your detention with Umbridge yesterday, Fullmetal? Not bad, I hope?" Ed growled a little when he saw the little smirk playing on the bastard's face.
"Well..." Ed briefly recounted the time at the detention, and the torturous system of punishment from Umbridge and her Blood Quills, and the story of how the Blood Quill wouldn't work on his metal arm. Out of cautiousness, he was very careful not to say the word 'automail' or 'metal arm', just in case, despite no-one besides them two in the library could speak Amestrian, instead saying 'my right arm.' "Also, Potter got a detention again today."
"Oh, really? This is his second time, I think?"
"Yeah. He wasn't able to keep his mouth shut. He HAD to lose his temper and get himself in detention-"
"When you say that, Fullmetal, it sounds a lot like you. I mean, you lose your temper when someone calls you short or any variation of-"
"DON'T - CALL - ME - SHORT!" Ed bellowed, then the librarian Madam Pince, angrily stomped to them and told them to be quiet. Mustang quickly took his book, waved farewell to Ed and left. Ed sighed; he took some books for his subjects and left the library.
Unbeknownst to both of them, an Extendable Ear had been poking out of one of the bookshelves. Hermione frowned. "I shouldn't have told you I know how to do the Translation Charm. We shouldn't eavesdrop-"
"Well, what if it had contained important information about Voldemort or the Order?" Harry whispered back.
"I doubt they'd discuss matters like that in the library, even if they were speaking in their language," Hermione replied. "I mean, it's a public space, and they're vulnerable enough to be overheard. I mean, that's what we did. And who knows, there could be more people using the Translation Charm to eavesdrop on them as well."
"Maybe," Ron nodded, "but it wasn't even anything useful. Just what happened at Harry and Elric's detention last night, and Elric being called 'short' again. It's a little funny too-"
"Whether it's funny or not doesn't matter," Harry grunted. "There could be important stuff. I mean, this is all some political waffle, right? The political waffle that brought them here. Maybe they know some stuff about the Ministry that we don't. Or maybe about the Order too, because they were the ones who told Elric to be my bodyguard. Or maybe," Harry's glasses glinted in the light, "maybe some information about Voldemort and his return-"
"Harry, you're missing the point," Hermione said. "There wasn't anything useful in what they said, so it doesn't matter. And in the future, let's all refrain from eavesdropping on them."
"But I have questions," Harry said firmly. "And they need to be answered."
"Yes, I know, Harry," Hermione said, her expression showing that she did not want to start an argument, "but if you have plenty of questions - which I know you do - you should go and talk to Elric directly to see whether he knows."
"Would he even tell me anything?" Harry asked. "Or maybe Dumbledore ordered him to shut up and swear not tell me, like you guys did back at Grimmauld."
"All right, mate, I know what you're getting out, but you're getting too off topic," Ron said, his voice having hints of nervousness and trembling. "That was a long time ago. Go see Elric if you have any problems or questions with him."
"Well, Elric has a lot of secrets anyway," Harry replied. "Don't you ever realise how strange it is for him to become a member of the military at his age?" When Hermione opened her mouth, he continued, "I mean, don't his parents know? And don't you ever notice that he never takes off his gloves? Back at our detention, Umbridge asked Elric to take his gloves off, but he refused."
"So does that mean he's scarred? From the military?" Ron asked.
"I don't know, but there are those questions I want to ask Elric about as well."
"You can't just go digging into his past, Harry," Hermione said. "But..." she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The questions you asked are actually thoughtful ones, and I'm actually curious. But," she added as Harry and Ron opened their mouths to respond, "that doesn't give us any excuse to just start digging into his past life, and I'm very sure Elric won't be that offering at first to tell us about it, and neither would Mustang. The least would be that the Order knows a little about them, but I don't know."
That midnight, Harry clutched his bloody hand with his other as he departed Umbridge's office for the Gryffindor common room. Luckily, Hermione knew enough to soak Harry's hand in what she called 'Murtlap tentacles', and it was immediately soothing, while Ron and Hermione pondered over what to do next. When Hermione had thought of Umbridge simply as someone who wouldn't teach them properly for OWLs instead of some evil hag who had sliced open Harry's hand every night, it had surprised him. It had also surprised Harry to hear the words "But this is more important than homework!" come out of her mouth.
What surprised Harry even more was the fact she and Ron wanted him to teach them Defence Against the Dark Arts. He had been sure they were joking; but the way they spoke, the lighted up expressions of their faces, the trembling excitement in their voices convinced him that they were not. They reminded him of his achievements throughout his five years at Hogwarts, and Harry had responded again and again that his friends had been there throughout the whole time, but his mind quickly took a time jump to Harry's first night at Grimmauld Place, yelling at them and telling them it had all been his achievements. The memory was bitter in both memory and mouth. He felt like a hypocrite.
Then he was sure they had took it too far, and he yelled at them. Harry did not want to teach, they did not endure the pain, suffering and agony he had during the countless times Harry had faced death in Voldemort's gaze, the shock and grief that had instantly hit him when Cedric suffered the inevitable impact of the Killing Curse.
Ron opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, turning towards the staircase leading to the common room. Of course, there was the sound of footsteps coming from there, but Harry wondered who would be up and running at this time and hour (excluding him, Ron and Hermione of course).
"Hey," Elric said. "You all too noisy. I cannot sleep." Harry studied him closely, and noticed that there was no sign of him sleeping anywhere on his face or body. He was probably lying, Harry thought, but it was something that wasn't worth thinking too much about.
"Sorry," Harry replied quickly, and Elric shook his head in response. "No, no worry, it fine." Then he smirked and turned to Ron and Hermione. "I heard you were going to start Defence group. That sounds interesting. What is that -" Elric said something in Amestrian - though Harry was not a speaker, he was sure it meant nothing good - "teaching anyway? I do not like theory. But Defence group? That is good. Not just for school, but also for the real world. You need to fight. You need to prepare for any attack. Anything could happen."
Ron nodded excitedly, and happily slapped Harry's back. "See, mate? Even Elric agrees!"
He looked at Elric then said, without thinking - the words had just slipped out of his mouth without knowing - "But Elric hasn't faced Voldemort. How can he have faced anything worse?"
Elric simply stared, and there was a painful pause, then: "No, I have not seen this Voldemort," the alchemist agreed. "But I am soldier of military. I know what it is like to fight. Fighting enemies is daily for me - yes, it is true," he added the last four words, looking at Hermione, who had gasped loudly - either at his words, or the calm tone that he said it in. " But enough of me. Voldemort - he must be very, very bad enough to get us - Mustang and me - to protect you from him. But if Voldemort is back, having a Defence group will be good to prepare yourself in skills that could save your life and lives of other people. Besides," he added, shrugging, "it will make my job easier to bodyguard you. I will not be here after this year."
"Y-Yes," Hermione began, stammering a little, a nervous tone in her voice, and it was clearly evident that she wanted to avoid Harry's anger as much as possible. "This is why w-we need y-you, Harry... we need to p-prepare ourselves... when we f-face him... we need to know what it's like... f-facing... V-V-Voldemort."
Ron gasped and flinched as soon as the name was spoken, but Harry ignored this. Since when did Hermione say Voldemort's name? He felt very impressed, and this had calmed Harry down, enough for Hermione to ask him once more to have a Defence group, and against every part of his body, he nodded. I hope nothing goes too bad...
Once that had been settled, Elric yawned, and said quickly to them, "Well, that is it? Defence group is in planning now? Okay, goodnight." He rushed up the stairs, two at a time, and disappeared. Hermione also wisely chose this time to leave them as well, and after using the Repair Charm to fix the china bowl and leaving the Murtlap tentacles on the carpet for the house-elves to hopefully clean up as he himself wasn't bothered, he followed Ron up to their dormitory.
He glanced at Elric's four-poster bed - the curtains were covering him, but the shadows had shown him still awake and sitting up, lights flickering on his side of the bed. Books with titles Harry couldn't read because of the dark laid either open or closed, sometimes folded, scattered across the bed, even peeking out of the curtains. Harry couldn't help but tug a smile at his lips as he visualised a scenario or Hermione seeing this, and her scandalised face.
Harry said goodnight to Ron, and crawled into his own bed, thinking about the Defence group they had been talking about just about ten minutes ago, slowly drifting off to sleep. Nightmares tormented him, and he tossed and turned in his slumber, knowing even unconsciously that his scar was prickling more than ever like hell...
The room was dark, dimly lit only by candles and the flickering lights of the Lumos charm from the tips of wands. He slowly crept through the room, almost tip-toeing, hoping not to make a sound. At least, there was someone out there, he was sure of that. Who had come to see him now?
He stroked Nagini. He partially hoped that it would be Avery come to see him. How he had failed him, how angry he had been, and he pondered over Avery's punishment, still stroking his beloved snake with one bony white finger. He looked up when he had heard a loud step on the marble floor, and then a small slump - whoever had come to visit him had bowed on one knee - which was expected of his loyal followers.
"My Lord," he said simply. "You summon me, lowly and powerless, to do a favour?"
"Yes," he whispered. "I hope you are able to carry it out, Mulciber. I hope I have not regretted bringing you here."
"You will not regret, My Lord," Mulciber said. "My Lord must know I will carry out any favour he asks of, to show my allegiance."
"Well... Accio." with his wand, he reached for a file stored in a small folder. It contained the two targets needed for this mission. He pointed at the tall one, pointing his wand at the picture with the Lumos charm so that Mulciber could see the face clearer. "They are both in Hogwarts, are they not?"
"I am sure, My Lord," Mulciber replied. "Fudge was quick to agree to Macnair's suggestion of 'bringing our countries into a better relationship' by sending two delegates from Amestris. The plan is working smoothly. It was good of you to have followers planted in the Ministry. They all helped bring this into action."
"Good, indeed," he almost smirked in reply, then pointed at the tall, black-haired one again. "I want you to look for him."
"In Hogwarts, My Lord?"
"Yes, and I want you to recruit him. He will be useful in our plan. Have the others received enough information on him?"
"More than enough, Mr Lord!" Mulciber spoke with excitement, as he took a file out of his bag, with a photo of the same black-haired target clipped onto the front. "We have a few personal details, but not enough. However, we have some military records given to Fudge from Amestris." He looked at the file. Yes, they had gained more than enough information. Perfect.
"Hero of Ishval, eh?" He read off the file. "Known for saving his troops during the bloody war, but actually because he killed many with his Flame Alchemy, one of the many alchemists involved in the genocide. Hmmm."
"What do you think, My Lord?" Mulciber said, then he reached for another file. "I have another file on the little one." The Death Eater clicked his tongue. "We had to check our sources twice... we were not sure of his capability and his age. Their military must be naive to let a boy enlist."
"No, I do not think so," he replied, Nagini hissing in agreement. "He must be very powerful and skilled in alchemy. No wonder the military brought those two to Britain." He skimmed through the file. He would thoroughly analyse both the files later. "Mulciber," he called, and Mulciber looked up. "Yes, My Lord?"
"My orders are to find them in Hogwarts - track them down, starting with this one." He pointed his wand at the tall, dark-haired one. "Tell him to kill Albus Dumbledore. Offer your help and recruit him. And then turn your focus to the boy." As Mulciber nodded and stood, saying, "Yes, My Lord", he waved for him to stay. "We must discuss this properly and plan this. I do not want failure, Mulciber."
"No, My Lord..." he smiled at the quivering in Mulciber's voice. Yes, be afraid.
"I do not want you to fail like Avery failed me," he said softly. "Come, Mulciber, let us talk."