218 follows and 122 faves? Honestly, every time I look at the number of follows and faves, I'm astonished by the power of my fellow readers. I really can't expressed my gratitude and love for you all in words sometimes, other than 'I love you all so very, very much!'. Thank you all for being super awesome and amazing!

The one year anniversary for this fanfiction is coming up quickly! For those of you who don't know, this fic was first published May 8, 2015. I could totally try to churn out another chapter (the probability of that happening is extremely low, due to exams being that week). However, I will be posting a poll on my profile if you guys would like to see a short one-shot of something in this story. Redirect yourselves there after reading this chapter if you'd like to see me write a mini-chapter of this fic.

Again, please do not forget to review at the end! I do read everyone's reviews, and for those of you who send in constructive criticism, I do try to fix those mistakes...some of them are a little harder than others (Ed being OOC is one of them. I think he got some of that from me...not sure yet. Anyone want to run a scientific test to confirm this?).

Al could not believe his ears. Was he hearing right? His hearing wasn't warped from being in the Gate for so long...right?

"You're - what?" he sputtered.

Alphonse's guard was basically gone at this point; if anyone tried to assassinate him, now was probably the best time to do so. His jaw would practically be on the floor, if there wasn't a bed in between the two objects. His eyes were darting between the engaged couple, looking for anything that might scream "April Fools!".

"We're getting married soon, Alphonse," Riza smiled, and her smile was one that shone like the sun. She put one hand with Roy's and the other touched Alphonse with the same kind of warmth that she's always had.

Alphonse shut his mouth and regained his usual personality. "T-That's wonderful! Congratulations to both of you!" he cheered. "When's the wedding ceremony?"

Roy shrugged. "We haven't cleared up the details yet, mostly because of the Promised Day and other circumstances."

"We're looking into a summer wedding somewhere nice and peaceful," Riza added. "Nothing affiliated with a church too."

Alphonse chuckled. "It might kill an alchemist or two to step in one and be under its ceiling for longer than necessary. Nii-san wasn't really thrilled about Lior's case when he discovered the problem, both for the whole resurrection idea and the fact that it was in a religious place." He went quiet for a moment, but spoke again. "You could have the wedding in Resembool. I don't think anyone would mind, as long as you don't wear your blues."

"We never planned on it," Roy said, "but there's an idea. Thanks Alphonse, we might take you up on that offer. We'll see what happens." He stroked Alphonse's long blonde hair. "But first, focus on getting better. My team and I will get Fullmetal back."

Alphonse nodded. "I trust you all."

Ed stared at the envelope, shocked. He thought that he was completely alone in this parallel world, with nothing to rely on. But here was the proof, a letter from his commanding officer, the proof that screamed that he wasn't alone anymore. He had his trustworthy mates in Central, along with his brother. They'd be okay, and maybe with their help - nah. He didn't feel the need to worry him any more than he already had. Ed would get back to Central by his own willpower.

Although being able to go back home now would be great and fantastic and shit...except the school term just started.

"Fuck," Ed swore under his breath. If the year hadn't already started, Ed would've made Mustang get his ass back to Central that second.

He ripped open the envelope in his room, but as soon as he ripped it, the envelope literally turned into ashes. As they fell to the floor, Ed wondered if his commanding officer knew anything about this world. It would make sense. The letter and now this...did he know something or was this just alchemy that Ed hadn't brushed up on in a while?

Ed scanned the letter. Unconsciously, his brain was reading it as if his commanding officer was standing right in front of him and saying all of this out loud. The letter (and his brain) expressed Mustang's greatest worries and fears concerning the boy, but Ed knew that he was secretly saying how much he cared. The old fart can be a dad-like figure sometimes, but only when he chooses to. Ed smiled at the thought.

The next part of the letter answered most, if not all, of Ed's questions. It explained how Roy knew a thing or two about the Wizarding World, the history and political stuff between Amestris's government and the Ministry of Magic, the history behind the position of Alchemy Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and other necessary information that Ed needed to know. Ed was thankful that Alphonse had told Mustang and Hawkeye what exactly went down after the Promised Day.

Ed skimmed the very end of the letter. It stated that Ed was going to take over for Major Armstrong at this point as Alchemy Professor (already said and done, Mustang), and he would make up the curriculum and other things he felt the children needed to know. Ed sighed; he wasn't off the hook after all. Also, it said that Mustang himself would come to Hogwarts in a few weeks to do his assessment for the State Alchemy program, and the exact date would be known later in time. Knowing Mustang, Ed believed that the old fart would try to surprise him. It wouldn't surprise him if that were to happen.

"Bastard," Ed muttered. "Thanks for the report, and for saving Al." A small smile was on his face, and Ed fell onto the bed, tuckered out from the day's events.

Tonight was one of the first nights that Ed had actually gone to sleep and didn't wake up from a nightmare once.

Morning came by again, and the alarm rang sharply. Irritated, the alchemist stumbled out of bed to shut off the annoying clock. After almost throwing the damn clock out of the window from the fifth floor, Ed put on his normal clothes. He tucked his pocket watch into the front pocket of his pants as usual, as a reminder of who he really was and what he was doing. This job was now for Mustang's satisfaction, whether Ed liked it or not.

Bastard can pay me back later, the asshole.

Ed grabbed some papers off of the desk. These papers contained Mustang's letter (since Ed intended to decode the rest of the letter and put that shit in order), the lesson plans for the next two days of Alchemy, and a piece of stationery Ed was going to send back to Central Command sometime later this week.

He departed his living quarters to be greeted by his empty classroom. In a few short hours, the class would be filled to the brim with curious students, those who either spent their time gawking over the seventeen year old kid or those who were actually mildly interested in the subject he taught. For now, Ed threw the papers onto his desk and left the room. It was seven o'clock, and the guy was hungry.

As he entered the Great Hall for breakfast, Professor McGonagall greeted him. "Morning, Naoyuki," she acknowledged.

"'Lo, Minvera." Ed sent her a quick smile before moving to his respective seat at the teachers' table. It was way too early in the morning to remember his manners, but hopefully she didn't take note of that.

Ed stared at the milk in front of him before he changed it to orange juice, a more suitable drink for a seven o'clock wake up call. He scooped the eggs into his mouth quickly, reading through his travel notes at the same time. He needed to be ready for any magical questions that could cross his path today. Hopefully, the students wouldn't be such pests today.

He was wrong. Totally, completely wrong.

Around ten thirty began the first Alchemy class. With Ed's luck, he managed to get the first years for his first ever class, and they weren't exactly patient nor interested in the slightest. Most of them seemed to be in the class because the class had become mandatory for everyone, and this was evident because they were goofing off with their classmates.

At long last, when the bell rang to signal class to begin, Edward made his way down the stairs from his living quarters to the classroom. The chit chat in the class had begun to die down as people saw him enter the class, but some of the girls were practically collapsing in their seats because they found him attractive and whatnot. Ed shook his head; he could never understand what girls think half of the time. Winry was bad enough.

"Take your seats if you haven't already," Ed gruffed. "Class is going to begin, and y'all need to be sitting down if you want to be alive by the end of the class period. Also, shut your traps at the same time. Talking will get you a one way ticket to detention pretty fast, in my opinion."

Now everyone's eyes were on him. The girls that were dying earlier had finally shut their mouths and glued their eyes on him, as if he were to disappear in the next second. It was clear that within two seconds, Ed might've scared the living daylights out of a bunch of eleven year olds, but he didn't care. There were worse things that could scare them, if not kill them. Bastard Truth is one of them.

Now kid, that's not very nice, Truth invaded his thoughts again.

Shut the hell up, asshole, Ed told him.

"Welcome to the first day in Alchemy. I have only a few rules in this classroom, and it is absolutely crucial that you follow these rules to the very end, unless you receive special permission to break one. The rules are dangling over on that side of the class," Ed pointed to the opposite wall. "And failure to follow these rules may result in an expulsion from this class or a severe detention. This is your only warning. Fair reminder now that this class is mandatory if you'd like to become a second year next year.

I am Professor Kuzumi, your teacher for this course. I don't have a syllabus, since it's pointless when there's a good chance that I won't stick to it. However, you can expect that I keep careful record of what I teach and what I assign for homework, so don't expect anything to fly by me.

For those of you who are curious about myself, I am indeed an Amestrian ambassador sent by the Fuhrer himself and my superior officer. I am recognized as a State Alchemist in the military, which means that I am more than capable of teaching you lot about the field. Anything else?"

Hands shot up in the air right away. Edward stuck his tongue out at them. "You're damn funny if you think I'm answering anything else. Time to begin the lesson. Sticks away, you won't be needing them at all in this class. You will need paper and a writing utensil."

The students clicked their tongues rudely and stuck their wands in their knapsacks. Many of them had hoped that they would finally be able to utilize their magical tool. Some of them got out parchment and a quill but some of them opted to doze off for the rest of the lesson instead. Ed noticed this and concocted something else.

"Refusing to copy down the notes when there may or may not be a quiz next class is not wise," he winked, and this forced the remainder of the class to pull out parchment and a quill to begin copying notes. "I won't stand for slackers in this class. To slack off will result in extreme consequences."

Ed tapped the board twice. "Can anyone in here supply a definition as to what alchemy is?"

A girl with bushy hair and huge teeth raised her hand immediately. Seeing that no one else had their hand up, Ed called on her. "Yes, miss…?"

"Hermione Granger, sir. Alchemy is the conversion of a base metal to gold or to a universal potion. Today, it is a part of a Muggle science, chemistry," she recited almost word for word from the textbook.

Ed almost lost his mind at the definition until he laid eyes on the book on her desk. He sighed. "I see you have purchased the Frank D. Buggins version of the textbook when I explicitly stated in the school lists that you all were to buy the version printed by Tim Mauro recently." He looked around at the entire class, noticing several similar books on people's desks. "I suppose some of you didn't read the fine print on the list, am I right?"

Hermione looked shocked at the news. She sputtered some crap about how she was sure that no such thing existed, but Ed asked her to look over the first year school list again. Angry, she took a good look at the school list again to find the fine print written underneath the Alchemy textbook requirement.

"Oh," she squeaked like a mouse. "Sorry, Professor. I must have missed it when I skimmed through the list."

Ed waved it off. "It's okay, miss Granger." He turned to the class. "For those of you who have purchased the incorrect books, I advise you to write to Flourish and Blotts sometime this week to get the correct book. Textbooks will not be mandatory until next week. Failure to get a book by then will result in a loss of points in the class until you get one. Am I clear?" Several students nodded.

He turned to the board. "As for the definition of alchemy that miss Granger has supplied for us, that is the old definition for Alchemy in the Wizarding World. In the past couple centuries, a man whom we do not know brought a new kind of alchemy to this world. It is confirmed to be Western Alchemy, alchemy that originated from the country Amestris. The current definition for alchemy is a form of science that manipulates or alters matter using natural energy. Here, you use your internal magic and the magic that circulates around the globe to perform alchemy."

After he wrote the definitions of the two on the board, he looked at the class. Half of them were staring at him like deer in the headlights, while others were copying down the information. He noticed a hand waving in the air in the back row, and Ed called on him.

The lad's name was Dean Thomas, another Gryffindor student. "Can alchemy turn things into gold still?"

Ed nodded. "Yes, it is still possible. However, it is strictly forbidden against wizarding law to do such a thing, since it will have an effect on the economy. Anyone caught doing so will receive a fine and some time in jail, I believe."

A few people gasped. "You mean, we'd go to Azkaban for doing that?" a girl wearing green robes asked, shocked.

Ed assumed Azkaban was the Wizarding World's version of a jail. "Yes, miss…?"

"Greengrass," she answered pompously.

Ed sighed internally. To himself, he wondered how much longer he'd have to deal with some of these rascals today. Some of them hadn't bothered to open up the textbook over the summer, and some of them were clearly only in the class because of him, as much as he hated to admit it.

You should tell them that - Truth began, but Ed knew exactly where that was going, and he didn't like that option either.

"Now, for those of you who bothered to even crack open the book, what can Alchemy be used for?" Ed inquired. He saw Hermione's hand fly up first, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that she had the brainpower of a Ravenclaw. A couple other hands were raised, and Ed called on them to answer the question.

They had responded with very, very vague answers, but answers nonetheless. It took Ed a minute to decipher what they meant, and he elaborated on them in depth.

"Mister Finnigan is correct when he says that things can be made from sticks and stone. In an alchemical view, sticks can be transformed into anything that utilizes wood, like a birdhouse. Stones can be used to make buildings, provided that you have the ability to do so and the stamina required. Depending on the size of the transmutation, the amount of energy you'll need varies." Ed glanced at the students and their blank stares.

"Let's go over the one law everyone should know when it comes to alchemy: the law of equivalent exchange. As it is always known, humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. In other words, you must sacrifice something in order to receive something, and the two must be of equal value." Ed cleared his throat. "Is that clear?"

"Can you give us an example?" someone in the class called out.

"Sure," Ed replied. "If you were to make a birdhouse, for example, you would need wood. Am I right, mister Potter?"

Harry glanced up from his notes. "Uh, sure?"

"The answer is yes, mister Potter. The amount of wood you provide for the making of the birdhouse should be the amount of wood that it takes to build a birdhouse of that desired size. After the transmutation, a birdhouse should remain with no leftover wood. If you brought too much, you will make a huge birdhouse. If you brought too little, you will have a small birdhouse. Does that make sense?" Several students nodded.

Dean's hand waved in the air. "Professor Kuzumi, we only have about three more minutes of this class."

That kid seems a little too eager to leave class today. "Okay," Ed acknowledged. "To begin the year off, I thought it would a good idea for you all to do a little homework." He heard groans come out of most of the students' mouths. "Tonight, please write to Flourish and Blotts for your required textbook. We cannot begin learning transmutation circles until you all bring them in. Also, please find a partner to be with in this class. Partners will help you learn not only the practical portion of this class, but also give you some lifelong lessons as well. Thirdly, please write a foot long summary of what you learned in class today, since many of you barely copied down anything from today's lecture. This is to be done without use of outside materials or consulting others for the notes. Failure to follow this will result in a consequence."

The entire class was more or less horrified, which put Ed at ease. Hopefully after today, they'll figure out that he really does mean it when he says to copy notes. He might be on the lower part of the scale (ouch!), but he's had more experience than anyone out in the field. Ed knew that he knew what he was talking about...for the most part.

When the bell rang, Ed retreated to his living quarters. Dumbledore had installed an animated portrait door only two days ago, so Ed wasn't quite used to seeing Winry, Alphonse, Teacher, and Team Mustang on his door. Though some of it was quite cringe worthy (referring to seeing his superior officer on his door, smirking like the bastard he was), Ed missed their faces very much.

I'll be home soon, just hold on for another few months.

When the day had finally ended, Ed threw himself onto the bed as fast as humanly possible. Hell, he was already tired and exhausted, and it was only five in the afternoon. After the first years left, the second years trickled in and almost killed Ed with the amount of questions they had. Most of them were given no answer, but they spent half the class period trying to pry something out of the kid. Man, they were annoying.

Then, he remembered General Mustang's letter to him. Ed shifted over on the bed to get the letter from his desk and read through the contents again. He had to verify that he didn't read the words wrong or anything, especially since it was written in his normal code language.

Ed grabbed a piece of paper from his desk as well, along with a pen. He scrawled out a report as fast as he could, which was a surprise considering how much he enjoyed procrastinating the hell out of the reports. However, Mustang had deemed it an urgent situation, and since he was technically on a "mission" now, he couldn't refuse his officer's orders for as long as he could have. Plus, Ed had no idea how long the owl would take just to get it back to him. Delaying anything could end up hurting him in the long run.

Ed made sure to include how his first month went here, along with how well his first day of teaching went. He complained to Mustang, of course, but he wasn't going to expect anything to change in his situation. Not when this is a documented mission for him anyways.

That bastard can go fuck himself over, Ed thought to himself. Or Hawkeye, whichever he prefers a little more.

At the end of the letter, Ed requested for him to send Alphonse and Winry a message, saying that he is okay and does not need maintenance yet (for fuck's sake, he can manage his automail just fine without either of them nagging behind his back). Hopefully, he'll consent, seeing that he is taking care of Alphonse for him anyways and told him that his brother was recuperating nicely.

Afterwards, Ed tied the letter to the owl perched outside of his window and sent the owl to Amestris, wherever the hell Mustang might be at this time. He gazed at the outdoors for a minute, appreciating the nice serenity it held. It reminded him of Resembool and the better days of his childhood, even if it was only for a moment.

Today was the second of September, and Ed vowed to be prepared for the days to come.

Any shippers around? What's your ship, FMA or HP wise?

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