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As always, italics are either thoughts or emphasis.
The next morning dawned grey and gloomy. Heavy grey clouds hung in the sky, looking as though the heavens would weep. The only movement was the slight crinkling sound of shifting leaves as a cold breeze blew through them.
Ed could see none of this from his cell. He was curled up on the ground, eyes half closed. He hadn't been able to sleep much the previous night, mostly due to the soft echoes of footfalls through the hallways and the feeling that he was being watched.
There was a snake outside the barred door of the cell. The snake itself didn't bother him; after traveling for so long, he was used to snakes. It was the eyes. Those eyes were far too intelligent to be those of a common beast; they never moved from him. The serpent hadn't blinked once that he was aware of.
So now he lay on the floor, looking as though he was engaged in some sort of strange staring contest with the reptile, and losing badly.
Finally, hours later, a fat, trembling man walked to his cage. The snake eyed him distastefully and slithered away as the man neared and produced a bunch of keys from the sleeve of his robes.
"The Lord Voldemort wants to see you," he stammered as he unlocked the cell door. As Ed stirred, the man pulled a wand form his sleeve as well, eliminating any possibility of escape.
Ed tried to keep track of the labyrinth of hallways as he was led through, but hunger and exhaustion soon left him disoriented.
Eventually, he was led into a small chamber that contained little more than a pallet and a table. A cloaked figure sat at the table, a chess board set in front of it. It motioned with one hand to the empty chair across the table, simultaneously dismissing its servant with a glare.
"So you are the infamous Edward Elric. Come, sir," it hissed more than stated.
Ed obeyed, his legs moving nearly by themselves.
"I have heard much about you. Tell me, do you know a man named Riddle?"
"No."
"What was your father's name, then?" A slender, white hand reached out and moved a pawn on the board in front of them. Red eyes stared from beneath the hood of the cloak.
"Not that it's any of your business, but it was Hoenheim. Why does it matter?" Ed also moved a pawn, responding to the unspoken challenge.
"Such a pity he left you," Tom whispered. "And to think, he didn't even stay loyal to your mother… He came back to you, though, did he not?" Another pawn.
"How do you know about him?" A bishop this time.
"He wasn't loyal to your mother, to you… He found another woman, who bore me." Tom moved a knight, then reached up and pulled back the hood of the cloak, exposing his pale, flat features to the little light that was in the room.
Ed stared at him in horror. His hands shivered as he forced himself to continue playing the game, to avoid showing weakness. His thoughts, though, were in utter turmoil.
Why? How could he betray mom like that? He loved her; I know that much. If he didn't, she wouldn't have died waiting for him. So how could he betray us? asked one voice in his mind.
Another, quickly squashed, argued in Hoenheim's favor. He looked so sad when he returned. He obviously didn't want to betray her. You have no proof either way! It's possible that he was coerced!
"Yes, he went back to you," Tom sneered. "He left me behind, discarded like old trash, so he could return to his precious, beloved family."
"It's not like he wanted us, either. We waited years for him to come back. Years! Everyone dying while he was away… And then he came back as though nothing had ever happened, then walks out on us again. Ironically enough, the only good thing he ever did for us was die."
"At least he cared about you," hissed Tom menacingly.
"Did he? He couldn't have been with you for ten years."
The pieces on the chess board began piling up on the side as the players vented their frustrations. Soon knights, rooks, bishops, and even a queen adorned the growing pile.
The game ended as a draw, both sides refusing to give in.
Tom stared at his younger half-brother in a perplexed manner. The boy was small, deceptively so, but obviously intelligent, judging by his skill at chess.
The boy's eyes were what he noticed first, other than the height (or lack thereof). They were an unnatural golden hue and seemed to be seeing through whatever they were staring at. They had seen far too much for such a young age.
The boy's skin was tan and weathered, though dirtied and bruised from his abduction. His clothes were overly formal, and the gloves seemed out of place. Inspecting the gloves more closely, he noticed as a metallic sheen just above them caught the sparse light.
"Take off your gloves," he ordered, performing a silent imperius curse.
Ed tried to resist, annoyed, but his arms jerked independently, removing the gloves regardless of his resistance.
Tom could not help but stare as dully gleaming metal was exposed. "Your arm is prosthetic?"
"Yes. Before you ask, it's not Hoenheim's fault. Why do you hate him so much, anyway?"
"My mother used a potion to make him fall in love with her. After a while, she couldn't bear to continue drugging him. As soon as the filthy muggle returned to his senses, he left. Of course, I killed him later for his conduct. Or I thought I did, until I learned that he was apparently with his other son after death."
"How long was he with your mother?" How long did he wander before coming back? How long did he make mom wait?
"A few months, perhaps. Muggles have no sense of duty."
Ed slammed his hand on the table, making a slight dent. "Don't you dare pass judgment on all muggles based on his actions! My mother was a muggle, and she worked herself to death trying to care for me and my brother after Hoenheim left! Not all muggles are worthless!"
Tom stared. "Are you done? Good. You seem to have an intelligent mind, though you also seem a bit rash. Your wand choice makes sense now." He pulled Ed's wand from a pocket in his robes, turning it in his long fingers. "A basilisk fang, symbolizing strength. Thestral blood, showing a shadowed path and an affinity for death. Steel… Well, the explanation for that is fairly obvious." He motioned to the metal hand.
"You have potential, I'll admit that much," he continued. His next sentence, though, delivered a crushing judgment. "At the moment, however, you're nothing but a sentimental fool. You're weak. I can help you change that."
Ed leaned forward, face devoid of emotion. "Go to hell."
Tom's smooth face contorted into an evil sneer. "You'll come around quite soon. I'll make sure of that. Until then, Mr. Elric. Malfoy!"
Lucius strode into the room, a puppy obeying his master's summons, and guided Ed back to the cell. At the point of a wand, of course.
Ed winced at the squeal of the cell door as rusty hinges protested their movement. Lucius pulled his wand from his jacket and flicked it, conjuring a large, padded chair. He sat, staring into the cell.
"So this is the great Dark Lord's brother? Don't make me laugh. You're nothing but a filthy mudblood."
Ed twitched slightly, wanting nothing more at that moment than to strangle the older man. "At least I don't have to lick anyone's boots to get what I want."
"You seem rather attached to that friend of yours… Roy, right? It would be absolutely delightful to see your face if something happened to him." Ed blanched, but Lucius didn't appear to notice, continuing on. "After all, I have so many connections in side of Hogwarts that I'm sure it would be rather easy for someone's hand to slip over his food. How should I do it? A fast or a slow-acting poison? I'm rather partial to slow, myself; the agony on the victim's face is priceless."
Ed's face contorted in rage. He clapped his hands and was about to place them on the floor when a beam of light shot out from Malfoy's wand and hit him in the chest, knocking him back into the wall. He fell to his knees, couching, small specks of blood littering the floor.
"Now, now, you really don't want to try that. I realize that you're mad at me, but we know all about your little magic trick there. You felt like you were being watched earlier, and that's why you didn't escape then, correct? You didn't want to show us your precious alchemy. Well, I have a secret for you."
Ed jumped as Malfoy disapparated and appeared next to him, whispering in his ear.
"We know everything."
Lucius began pacing around the cell. Ed tried to ignore him, pulling his hair out of its braid (which had been falling out anyway, due to rough treatment during his abduction) and running his fingers through it.
At this point, Malfoy turned and looked at him, putting a halt to his pacing. "My wife is rather… angry at me for allowing our son to follow the Dark Lord, so I have found myself lonely of late."
"Good," Ed interrupted.
"No, it isn't. Not for anyone concerned. You see, you're a very pretty young man, and I haven't found pleasure in another's company in quite some time." He drew closer, reaching out a hand to finger Ed's hair. "Perhaps if you helped me, I could help you find a way out of here.
Lucius felt a sudden explosion of pain in his jaw as the smaller blonde's fist connected. After that, he lost consciousness.
"Idiot. Why would he tell me if he already knew about my alchemy? Now I don't have to bother hiding it." Ed clapped his hands and pressed them to the lock on the cell door, opening it. He strolled out, then began attempting to navigate the seemingly endless labyrinth of underground passages until he could find the exit.
It had been thirteen hours, twenty-three minutes, and five seconds since Ed was abducted. Not that Roy was counting or anything.
He sat at the teacher's table in the Great Hall, oblivious to the chatter that surrounded him. His food, while in pieces, had not been eaten; he had simply torn it to bits while worrying.
He was jolted back to Reality when someone called his name.
"What?" he asked.
"Honestly, it's about time you heard me. I called your name eight times," Hermione said. "I was wondering how Professor Elric is."
Roy stared at her, wondering how he was supposed to know.
"During class, you said he was ill, right?"
"Oh, yes. He's not doing very well. I don't think his immune system has fully adapted to this world yet."
Hermione looked suspicious, but let the subject drop and returned to her friends.
Roy started worrying again, realizing the truth of his statement. He and Ed had been sleeping more than usual, eating less, and constantly feeling exhausted while they had been in England. All of the symptoms pointed to fatigue and illness.
Life sucks, he thought, and I'm getting tired of babysitting these brats. …I wonder if I could burn a few.
Ed sneezed. He had been wandering in the halls for a while now; he wasn't sure exactly how long. Even with his alchemy, he could only create doorways in one or two walls at a time, for fear of the structure collapsing. Since he didn't know where the exit was, he was scurrying around like a mouse trying to find the cheese.
He had heard voices not too long ago, people shouting directions for a search party. He had nearly been discovered by one group, but he escaped thanks to his alchemic skills and a beautifully executed ambush. Needless to say, he hadn't seen that particular group since.
He stopped, looking around. This spot looked familiar… Of course, the corridors all looked nearly the same, which was the main reason he was so lost, but he still had this feeling…
Well, he had been turning right most of the time and hadn't gotten anywhere, so he tried turning left. He continued on for quite a while, silently considering the situation.
Hoenheim left when I was only a few years old, and Al doesn't even remember it. I wish I could say that he didn't want to leave, but I don't really know. I remember being mad at him for years, even after he came back. I don't think I forgave him until he died.
Was he sorry to leave? He looked sad, if I remember correctly, but how could he be if he was under the effects of a love potion? Could it have been a spell that put him under the caster's control? Is there even such a thing?
The timeline of events seems wrong. Voldemort is older than I am. Is the flow of time different between the worlds? If it is, it moves faster here. So if I ever get home, it may not have been too long since I left.
Wrapped up in his thoughts, he failed to notice the approaching Death Eaters until they were nearly on top of him. At the last moment, he ducked into a side chamber, shutting the door behind him. He only realized where he was when a hissing voice addressed him.
"Fools. They're not even able to find one person in a single house. Pathetic. I do so wish that I could dispose of them."
Ed turned to face his elder half-brother, wincing as the flat face and narrow, slit-pupiled eyes came into view.
"But, sadly, I do not yet have enough followers that I can rid myself of so many."
"What do you want?" Ed asked.
"You. I want you to join me on my mission."
"How can I trust you if you can't even tell me the real story behind our father? If you're going to lie, you should at least to enough background research to know whether you'll be caught or not."
A look of surprise flitted across the Dark Lord's face before his features arranged themselves in a slight smirk. "You are much more intelligent than I gave you credit for. Yes, I lied to you, but you really can't expect me to spill my life's secrets to a complete stranger?"
"Fine. You don't have to tell me your life's story, but can you at least tell me one thing?"
Tom raised a nonexistent eyebrow. "What?"
Ed tried to decide which of his questions would gain the most answers, then spoke clearly. "Did you know that he wasn't a muggle?"
Tom's usually stoic mask fell apart, leaving shock behind. "He was a wizard?"
"Not in the strict sense of the word. You see, in our world, there aren't any wizards. There is no magic."
"'Our world? ' How can he be anything but a muggle if there's no magic?"
Interesting. He doesn't know about the parallel worlds, then, or about Al. Good. Al's safe.
"He was an alchemist, and a rather good
(good may not be the best term to describe him…)
one at that."
"Alchemy? That is what you are teaching at the school, is it not?" He paused long enough for Ed to nod. "That answers one of my questions, but what do you mean about this other world?"
"If I tell you, will you let me go?"
"No."
Ed sighed. "I didn't think so, but will you at least teach me to use my wand properly?"
"I will, on one condition. You are to remember that when I tell you to do something, you will do it, if you don't want your friend Roy to find an unpleasant end. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes." His throat constricted, making it hard to say the word. He had to protect Roy, even if it was only from a distance, until he could escape.
"I do need you to prove your loyalty, however, and I have the perfect test for you. Malfoy has served me well by bringing you here, so he deserves a reward. I hear that he enjoys your company, so you will let him have sex with you."
Ed swallowed his disgust and nodded, Tom's earlier words still fresh in his mind. If you don't want your friend Roy to find an unpleasant end…
Malfoy smirked as soon as he heard the news, eager to get on with business. He strode over to Ed, placing his hand on the small of the boy's back and guiding him into an adjoining room. The room was bare, with plain stone walls and only a bed for furniture.
The alchemist quickly strode over to the bed and sat, leaning back against the wall and clapping his hands discreetly.
When Lucius finished closing and locking the door, he turned to the bed, glad to see that his companion showed no signs of struggling. He walked to the bed, placing a leg between Ed's knees, slowly pushing them apart. Lowering his body to Ed's, he shoved his mouth over the boy's. However, his progress was soon stopped by an ornate stone dagger.
"Get the hell off me!" Ed snapped.
The older man had no choice but to comply, though he tried to reach for his wand. Ed quickly put a halt to that idea by pressing the point of the dagger against the man's throat and taking the wand himself.
"We'll stay in here for a little while," he said. "During that time, you will tell me as much as you know about this organization. When I say enough time has elapsed, you will go outside and act like you just had some very good sex, or I will kill you. Understand?"
Malfoy nodded.
Ed took great pleasure in seeing blood beginning to well on his blade. "Start talking," he said with a smirk that made the older man's blood run cold.
Lucius sang like a bird.
Tom paused to consider his little brother as Malfoy guided him into a side chamber. The boy was hiding something, that much was obvious. Still, he had very nearly proven himself obedient enough to keep.
Why do I feel guilty?
He shouldn't feel guilty. Edward was only a tool, nothing more. But somewhere, deep within the dark recesses of his mind, a small, abandoned child cried out in guilt and pain.
Stop it.
He was used to the child's screaming. It was a younger version of himself, he supposed, a remnant of a past not entirely forgotten, and it hated nearly everything he did. The child continued screaming, anguished, tortured cries that drove him to the brink of insanity.
Stop it!
Why are you hurting people? the child cried. Why can't you let him go? Just him? He's the only family we've got!
STOP IT!
The child curled up and was silent; peace returned to his mind once more.
After some time passed, Lucius came out of the side chamber, looking happy for the first time in weeks. He gave Tom a short nod and a bow before gliding out of the room.
Tom stood and walked to the doorway, the scent of sweat nearly overpowering him.
A small blonde lay curled beneath the sheets of the bed, covered in sweat and bruises. He looked at Tom with a pleading gaze that asked one simple question:
Why?
Tom honestly didn't know.
Inside his head, the child started screaming again.
Ed turned his head away, smirking. His ruse was perfect.
A/N: I love writing crazy Voldemort... Anyway, hope you enjoyed. The next chapter should be up before too long.
Please review.