A/N: It's been a while, hasn't it? Not as long as the last wait, but... Anyway, longer update for you this time. Eight and a half pages on Word. Not bad, eh?

Severus Snape stared down at the redhead, disgust etched into his face. "So, you want me to help you? Precisely why is that?"

"Because you're the only person I know who'd do it!" cried Ron.

"What gave you that idea?" Severus asked, arching a thin eyebrow.

"You're a bastard and you love meddling in other people's affairs, that's what."

"Perhaps… Very well, I'll use my limited store of veritaserum on this wretched boy. Oh, and Mr. Weasley, see me for detention after class this Thursday."

Severus swept out of the room, cloak billowing behind him. As he strode through the halls, he wondered what could possibly be in this child's mind that was so horrifying. He was only a child, after all, but everyone seemed convinced that he was a threat.

Finally he stood, veritaserum in hand, staring down at the boy. As he was about to administer the potion, however, a wizened hand rested on his.

"Come, Severus, he has been through enough for tonight," said Dumbledore.

"Headmaster?"

"You wish to know about the child, I presume? Very well; I believe you should be aware that he is the half-brother of Lord Voldemort."

"What?" interrupted Severus. "Surely you jest. I would have known if the Dark Lord had a brother."

"He does not yet know himself. I need you to take this information to him, then return and report."

"You do realize that the boy will be taken to see him?"

"I am counting on it."

Severus studied Dumbledore's face, scrutinizing it for any trace of doubt. "Very well," he acquiesced.

Speaking with the Dark Lord had always made him nervous. The man (if he could truly be called that) had an intimidating presence, exuding a feeling of infallibility that mad Snape feel as though his darkest secrets were being proclaimed to the world.

His status as a double agent, in particular, was a source of unease. The Dark Lord had yet to doubt him, which made him wonder what the man was holding over his head.

Finally, the piercing gaze was directed elsewhere. Severus unconsciously let out a sigh of relief before he began his report.

"My Lord, through my investigations on Dumbledore's research, I have found some disturbing news. It seems…" Here he faltered before seemingly regaining confidence. "It seems that you have a surviving relative. A half-brother by the name of Edward Elric. He is at Hogwarts as we speak."

Voldemort's heated glare quickly swung back to his servant's face. "You are sure?" he hissed.

Severus felt pressure building inside his head, undoubtedly from Voldemort's attempts to break into his mind. Nevertheless, he maintained his composure. "Yes, Lord."

"How interesting… Nagini and I will have to meet him… Have Lucius prepare a little welcoming party."

Snape continued to kneel. He didn't want to play this part, even knowing what Dumbledore was planning, but he had no other choice. He was simply a pawn in this game, so he fulfilled his role. "Yes, Lord."

Ed woke slowly, struggling for consciousness. Where am I? he wondered as he opened his eyes. His blurry vision showed nothing but white.

Finally, his vision cleared, and he was able to look at his surroundings. He was in a small bed with white sheets that stood in a white room with its duplicates. A hospital?

He slowly sat up, muscles screaming in protest, and tried to call out. All that emerged was a strangled squeak.

A flicker of motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Dumbledore was striding toward him, eyes resting squarely on his face. Ed suppressed a shudder; the old man's gaze was unnerving.

"Edward, I see that you are finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I suppose," he said. "That's not what you really want to talk about, though, is it?"

Dumbledore almost smiled; the boy's intelligence reminded him of himself when he was younger. "Perhaps, my boy. It turns out that there is something else I have to ask you. Have you ever heard of a wizard named Tom Riddle?"

"I don't believe so… Why do you ask?" It has to be important, or you wouldn't look so strained as you say that.

"No reason," was the glib response.

Liar.

Dumbledore watched as the young man's stare became slightly accusing, though the suspicion was well masked. I suppose he's caught me, he thought with good humor. He won't ask, though. Not today.

He smiled and gave an insincere farewell, as well as some slightly more sincere wishes for improvement, before turning away.

That little question and answer session was entirely unproductive. The way he saw through my lie like that was extraordinary; I'm not sure I'd be able to tell if he was lying to me. Could he possibly know of his relation to Voldemort? Is that why his memories of his father were so bitter? His meeting Voldemort is the only way to tell for sure whether he is trustworthy or not.

But if it's so likely he isn't, why do I feel guilty about this plan?

[Ed's POV

After Dumbledore left, I sat next to Roy's cot, worrying. I had heard from Madam Pomfrey that Roy collapsed soon after I did. Was it guilt? Was it concern? Or was I selfish in thinking that his collapse had anything to do with me?

I rested my hand on his forehead. It was quite warm, indicating that he had a fever. His face was contorted, betraying immense pain.

I miss you, bastard. Just come back to me, and I'll tell you that I missed you.

I sat with him for hours before exhaustion overcame me and I slept.

When Roy woke, the first thing he noticed was a blonde head resting beside him. As he turned to look, Ed stirred and opened clear golden eyes.

"You're awake," said Roy.

"So are you. I missed you…"

Roy, as uncomfortable as he was with open displays of affection, still reached out and hugged Ed, cradling the smaller alchemist to his chest.

"I was so worried," he whispered.

"I'm fine. You should be worrying about yourself…"

They spent hours there, basking in each other's presence, both understanding what was never said.

I love you.

Everything was hazy when Ed slowly drifted back into consciousness. He was laying in Roy's arms, warm and safe.

Except not everything was right; there was a strange presence in the room, someone who shouldn't be there. Unwillingly, he opened one smoky golden eye. A tall blonde man dressed in long black robes stood next to them.

Surprisingly, he didn't remark about Ed being in bed with an older man. He stared slightly and smirked, but refrained from commenting about it. "Edward Elric?" he stated more than asked. "Come with me."

Ed eased off the cot. "Why? What happened?" he asked as he dressed himself in his usual black-and-white attire.

"Lord Voldemort wants to see you. You may not recognize the name, but he is an acquaintance of Dumbledore."

Something bothered him (though he couldn't quite say what) so he pulled away. "If this Lord Voldemort wants to see me, he can do so in person, instead of sending one of his lackeys to fetch me like a dog."

The man looked at him oddly –in amusement, perhaps?– and his smirk widened. "I thought you might say that," he said as he pulled out his wand. "Stupefy."

Harry was tired. He had been reliving some of the most horrifying memories imaginable nearly nonstop for the past several days. Eventually, he had stopped reacting to the stress and hopelessness of his situation. His mind couldn't take any more of the torture, so it no longer reacted.

He was dying as his mind slowly shut down.

Then the scenery changed. He was standing in front of it, the monstrous thing that had taken the professor's arm and leg.

A kind-looking woman stood in front of it, her body completely transparent. Her long brunette hair framed a worn and tired face. She smiled reassuringly at him, but her smile was tinged with sadness.

"You know him, don't you?"

Her voice echoed in the empty space, surrounding him, filling him with emotion again. His dormant mind began to slowly move again, consciousness returning.

"Know who?" he asked, mouth struggling to shape the words.

"My son."

Harry stared at her, taking in every detail of her face. She seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite remember who she reminded him of…

He gasped as recognition struck him. The last time he had seen her, she had been a wheezing, bloody pile of organs struggling to cling to life.

"You're the professor's mother!" he cried.

"Yes, Harry. My son needs you right now. The Death Eaters have him and I'm afraid he won't live much longer." Tears formed and flowed down her cheeks.

For some reason, this made him angry. He didn't know why, but irrational frustration built until he could no longer contain it. "What do you expect me to do about it? I'm trapped here! Why do people always expect me to do their work for them? I may be the Chosen One, but that doesn't mean I'm going to go around helping people like a saint!"

The brunette in front of him was joined by another woman. This one had black dreadlocks that swung behind her as she stepped forward and grabbed him by the throat.

"Edward and Alphonse Elric meant more to me than any other pupils of mine. They were like me own sons!" She looked at the brunette apologetically. "No offense meant."

The other woman smiled. "None taken."

The she-devil's gaze came back to him, and he flinched. "I will not let some pathetic coward like you be the reason Edward dies! Either get off your lazy ass or I'll kill you here and now!" she roared.

Harry twisted in her grip, trying in vain to break free. "Let me go!" he sobbed.

"The only way you're getting out of here alive is if you wake up and save him!" yelled the woman.

Harry fought and scratched as her grip tightened until his throat had gone numb from the pressure. Instead of choking him, though, the hand slipped through his neck as he became insubstantial.

"Thank you," whispered the brunette. "Please, tell Ed that neither of us blames him for what happened. He couldn't control death any more than we could…"

Harry nodded as he felt himself dragged backward, feeling a vague sensation of rising as he re-entered the world of the living.

His eyes opened for the first time in days. He sighed happily, glad to be awake again. Joy quickly turned to worry as he remembered the dream he had. Turning, he saw Roy sitting up in bed.

"Professor Mustang, where is Professor Elric?"

The man's face tightened slightly. "I don't know," he replied softly.

"It can't be… It can't be true! If they had him, surely you would know by now," babbled Harry, panic setting in.

"What are you talking about?" asked Roy, crossing the distance between them and shaking Harry. "Do you know where he is?"

Harry looked at Roy with pure certainty. "Death Eaters have him."

"Who?"

"You don't know?" interrupted Hermione, who had entered unnoticed, redhead trailing behind her. "They are murderers, followers of Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard ever to have existed."

Roy stared at her. "They have Ed," he whispered.

She blanched. "If that's true, then we need to tell Dumbledore. He should be able to figure out where they're hiding."

Roy stood unsteadily. "Let's go, then," he said. Ron and Hermione stepped forward and caught him as he swayed, nearly falling. They eased him back onto the cot.

"You probably shouldn't be standing yet," said Harry. "I certainly don't think I could."

"But I have to see if he knows where Ed is!" snapped Roy.

Hermione sighed, muttering something that sounded like "boys" before turning her back. "Can you at least get dressed first?"

He sighed and dressed himself, then permitted Ron and Hermione to help him walk by supporting his weight. Half an hour or so later, he found himself standing in the headmaster's office.

"Mr. Mustang, how nice to see you on your feet again," greeted Dumbledore.

"Cut the crap. Where's Ed?" he retorted.

Dumbledore sighed and hustled about, making tea. It was unnecessary work -he could simply wave his wand and conjure tea from thin air- simple done to postpone the inevitable need to answer. The tension in the room slowly built as the oppressive silence continued until it became nearly tangible.

Roy's desperate and accusing glare never left the headmaster's face. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he received a reply.

"He is with Voldemort. I cannot tell you their exact location, for various reasons, including the fact that I simply do not know. If I did, though, the situation would not change. Edward is where he is out of necessity; it is both a test of his loyalties and a chance to establish another spy in the Dark Lord's ranks."

"And what about Ed? Are you just going to leave him there to be tortured?" spat Roy, his hands balled into fists and shaking in barely suppressed fury.

He knew the answer before it was even spoken.

"Yes."

What sent him over the edge was the calm and calculating expression resting on the old man's features. There was not a hint of self-doubt, only a need to see the outcome so he could continue plotting.

As that single damning syllable was uttered, Roy strode forward and slapped the manipulative bastard across the face as hard as he could.

To his credit, Dumbledore stood his ground, accepting the blow as it came and refusing to so much as stagger even though the blow would have sent most normal men to the ground.

"I understand that it may be hard for you to accept, but there is nothing you can do right now," he said as kindly as he could. "And if you wish to stay here in the hope that Edward will return soon, you must continue to teach. I will have my hands full with locating and attempting to contact him, so I cannot have the Ministry breathing down my neck and questioning why you are here. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Roy answered stiffly. "You had better find him quickly, though. Excuse me; I have a class to prepare."

He walked away as quickly as he could.

The next day's classes were incredibly stressful. As the first batch of students strode into the classroom, he suddenly found himself struck by a wave of loneliness. Even surrounded by people as he was, he found himself missing the presence of his blonde alchemist.

"Class," he began dully after the bell rang," despite the absence of classes over the past week or two, I still expect you to have done your homework. Now, by a show of hands, who did?"

Nearly half the students raised their hands.

"If you are not confident in your ability to recite the entire periodic table without fault, when I call on you, lower your hand."

All but one hand went down.

"Very well. It seems as though Miss Granger was the only one to do her homework. Twenty points to Gryffindor. If more people don't follow in her footsteps, they will lose House points next class. At the moment, I would strongly urge most of you to drop the class. Those who wish to do so may speak with me after the bell rings."

"Where is Professor Elric?" asked Lavender Brown.

"He's sick," Roy lied. He didn't want to face the truth if he could avoid it. "Now, today we'll be learning some basic transmutation circles. Pay attention, because copying something down incorrectly can have disastrous results…"

Ed was in a small, dark room that reeked of blood and mold. His arms and legs were bound, and he had a great many bruises from his journey.

((He woke at some point during his abduction, and found himself held in midair by some sort of spell. He moved slowly, so as to avoid catching the attention of his attacker, and looked around.

His attacker, at least, was familiar. It was the same blonde man that Ed had seen in the infirmary. His surroundings, though… They were on a lumpy, ill-made brick path that was beginning to disintegrate into dust. Small, dark houses stood on either side in a state of disrepair. Many had collapsed roofs and boarded-up windows. In a few, tiny, beady eyes shone through the darkness, reflecting what little light there was to be had.

Ed moved slightly, testing his bonds. They were loose; the man obviously wasn't paying attention to his captive.

He waited until he saw a side street that he could escape on, then jerked violently, disrupting the man's concentration. When he fell to the ground, the air was forced from his lungs, causing him to gasp slightly. Nonetheless, he picked himself up, grabbing his wand from a pocket in his assailant's robes, and began running.

At first, he ran without direction, turning when the opportunity presented itself. His captor soon fell behind, footsteps fading into the distance. Eventually, though, the buildings blended together, and he could not remember where he had been.

"Point me," he whispered to his wand. The wand slowly moved, pointing to his right. He turned, but when he entered the shadows of the alley, a smooth voice called out to him.

"Where do you think you're going?" it asked, cruelty and disdain emanating from it.

A hand found its way onto Ed's shoulder. He thrust his elbow backward, and was rewarded with a heavy gasp from his attacker.

Once again, he tried to run, but more hands awaited him. He fought back, injuring several members of the group, but the sheer numbers eventually overwhelmed him.))

So now he sat in his dark cell, waiting to see what judgment would befall him.

A/N: I just had to throw Izumi in there somewhere. She's awesome.
On another note, don't get the idea that I don't like Dumbledore. I do think he uses people, though, in a "the end justifies the means" sort of way...
Please review.