Hey everyone! Well, the past three months have been pretty hectic for me, which is why I haven't been able to update for a while. But never fear! Summer is nearly here, which means that I'll be able to give lots of time to writing.

Warning:this chapter contains a half-naked man. And it isn't pleasant for anyone.

This chapter is dedicated to Dragonsblue, who had the closest guess on how Luna knew about Al's lack of a body.

An icy chill swept outside the thick stone walls of Hogwarts. The waving limbs of the Whomping Willow battered at the air around it, trying and failing to keep it away. In the lake, the Giant Squid sequestered itself to the murky bottom, flicking a few stray grindylows with its tentacles when they came too close. Off in the center of the Forbidden Forest, screeches came from the assorted magical creatures living there as a tree was uprooted and tossed away in boredom. Most of the castle's inhabitants slept soundly, totally oblivious that high up in the Astronomy Tower sat a small figure clad in a bright red cloak, golden eyes gleaming from the scarce amount of moonlight escaping through the heavy clouds.

Though the winter wind stabbed at his automail ports viciously, Ed sat, unmoving, on a small ledge overlooking the grounds. From the aching of his right shoulder and left leg, he could tell heavy rain or snow was coming soon. The nonstop pain kind of calmed him, in a masochistic type of way. Besides, he'd needed to clear his head, and being in tall places with only the wind for company tended to help.

He couldn't believe that his brother had been so careless! And now some random magic brat knew their secret. Ed ground his teeth together angrily.

How the hell did that Luna girl find out anyway? Al totally seemed normal! Having a metallic-tinged voice should be expected when a person wears a suit of armor! So what if his gloves didn't look completely like normal hands, and yeah, maybe they didn't 'mold themselves' to Neville's hand, but who in the world would notice that?

Ed didn't want to admit it, but she might be the most perceptive person he'd ever have the misfortune of being acquainted with.

The fact that Neville was in on everything didn't really faze Ed. After all, he had already found out about Ed's automail, so knowing the true story behind it wasn't too big of a deal. And at least in his explanation Al hadn't decided to spout out, "Oh, and by the way, Ed and I are from some alternate universe that's guarded by a gate and some weird little guy that claims to be both truth and God." He snorted.

"Wallowing again, Elric?"

The slimy voice startled Ed so much he nearly tumbled out of the open window. He tried to regain his composure. "What do you want, Snape?" Not his best comeback, but the cold was slowing the snarky part of his brain.

Snape smirked, looking eerily like Mustang if he was afraid of scissors. "I'm simply doing my job as a teacher, not that you'd know what that's like." A strong gust of wind blew Snape's robes up and over his face. His thin, pale legs seemed to almost glow in the dark. He wasn't wearing pants.

There was a very awkward, pregnant pause.

Snape scrambled to cover himself, but one button on the very bottom of his robe got entangled in his greasy hair, and it became nearly impossible to blindly fix it.

Ed didn't know what to do. He was too sho- Snape was too tall for him to reach the top of his head, and metal fingers aren't exactly the most versatile. But he couldn't just do nothing; those legs were not meant to be seen by anyone. Shielding his eyes, Ed quickly transmuted his arm into a small knife, and slashed as high up as he could. A small wave of black fell, still showing good five inches of sickly pale flesh. He tried to avoid meeting Snape's eyes.

"Well," Snape said, staring purposely out the window, "thank you, Elric, for ruining a perfectly good pair of robes." It was hard to see in the dark, but a pale flush had formed on his face.

"Um..." Ed studied his shoes.

They stood there for a solid minute, howling wind the only sound.

"So, potions," said Ed, using all of his skills in conversation. "Is it the same as chemistry, or is it all wand waving and stuff?" It wasn't just meaningless babble; he really was curious.

"The subtle science of potion-making is far more delicate than what muggle schoolchildren learn," Snape sneered, but underneath was a small glimmer of pride. "Each ingredient has magical properties, and must be combined in a very specific way to achieve the proper result."

Ed joined Snape as he began to walk down the spiraling staircase and passing dozing portraits of deceased wizards and witches.

"So what sort of things can your potions do that medicine can't?" Challenged Ed, ready to put the knowledge gained from the Rockbells to the test. "Can you diagnose a sickness you've never seen or heard of before?" His voice grew shrill. "Or can you regrow limbs? What about bringing the dead back to life, huh? Can your magic or potions do that?"

Snape stared at him hard. "Elric," he said sternly, yet almost kindly, "if magic could restore life, do you really think that people wouldn't use it on their loved ones? If that could happen, then the war wouldn't have ended, because neither side would be cut down at all. So many people wouldn't have been lost." He grew soft. A sorrowful look stole across his face.

"Did you lose anyone, Snape?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "I, I lost the only woman I had ever loved," he said quietly.

Ed suddenly saw himself in the abrasive, callous man beside him, saw who he could've become if he didn't have Alphonse. "What was she like? Do you have anything to remember her by?" Perhaps he and Snape were more alike than he thought.

Snape smiled. An actual smile! It was foreign and strange on his face, but pleasant. "She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Her hair looked like burning starlight, and her eyes were like emeralds. And whenever she smiled, it was like nothing could ever go wrong in the world. She was the only person who really didn't mind what house I was, or what I wore, or looked like, because she looked at who I really was." His voice cracked.

"What was her name?"

"Lily. Lily Evans." He spoke her name reverently, treasuring each syllable.

"My mom's name was Trisha. She was always so proud of me and Al when we did alchemy, because it reminded her of my dad." Ed's mind clouded with hatred towards that man. "But it was his fault that she died. And he didn't even come back for her funeral! He left us all alone! Maybe if he'd actually cared she wouldn't have died, or Al and I wouldn't have tried human transmutation, and we wouldn't be in this mess!" He slammed his right fist into the wall. Thick cracks webbed from behind it.

Snape didn't try to comfort him. "Lily married my worst enemy," he said bitterly. "And it was my fault that she died."

They walked for a while, both wallowing in self-pity. Ed couldn't stop imagining that the wall had been that bastard's face, and the image brought a sickening grin to his face.

The two had reached the first floor before speaking again.

Snape cleared his throat. "Elric, care for a drink?"

Ed nodded. "Something hot'd be good," he muttered. His ports were screaming a tune just for him, and he was bitterly regretting his little stay in the freezing tower.

Not that the dungeon was much better. He and Snape sat in his office, the walls covered in shelves with bottles of creatures and organs congealing in a fluorescent lime green goo. Ed cupped his hands eagerly around the mug of warm butterbeer, living for the heat that it spread to his body once he'd taken a sip.

"Hey, Snape," Ed mustered up the will to say. "Got a potion for joint pain? The cold and automail don't really agree with each other."

"Of course, Elric. After all, I am the Potions Master." Snape chucked him a vial of a pale blue liquid. "One swallow should be enough."

Gratefully Ed gulped down a small quantity. As it hit his stomach he could feel the aching and swelling start to lessen. It was barely any time at all before he could barely tell that they had ever hurt at all. "Wow. This stuff really works," he said in amazement. "Any way I could learn how to do that?"

Snape nodded, surprised.

"So, any way that you could make these grow back for me?" Ed gestured towards his arm and leg.

"Unfortunately, I'm not an expert in healing. I'd suggest a visit with Madame Pomfrey when she's awake, though. And you could always take your brother with you."

At a loss for anything else to say, Ed drank more butterbeer. He decided to ask something that had confused him a little. "Hey, Snape, what did you mean when you said it was your fault that Lily died?" He felt bad bringing up what was a potentially touchy subject, but he really needed a clarification.

Snape took a long swig out of a silver flask before answering. "I had heard a prophesy that pertained to the fall of the Dark Lord, so I told him. He thought the one destined to defeat him was her son. So he killed her, and her scumbag of a husband."

The story started to sound very familiar to one Ed had heard about the fall of Moldywarts. "Wait, Snape, were you in love with Harry Potter's mom?"

Snape's silence answered it all.

Somewhere in the room a clock chimed three times.

Ed took the opportunity. "Well, I have a class to teach tomorrow, so I'd better be going now. Thanks for the drink." He stuffed the potion into a pocket and scurried out of the room as fast as he could, leaving Snape alone in the darkness.