A/N - This chapter is short. And I made you wait for it. I apologize. After this chapter, the pace should pick back up, and maybe that will make up for it. On another note, absolutely none of you voted for option B, so two books it is! I'm pretty hyped about it. I'll try to have the next one out soon, so please forgive me.

"blah blah"- Speaking Greek

"blah blah"- Speaking Amestrian

'blah blah'- Thinking

***** - Begin/end flashback

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Fullmetal Alchemist, or Percy Jackson. Good thing too, or they wouldn't be nearly as good as they are now. They belong to J.K. Rowling, Hiromu Arakawa, and Rick Riordan. Just to be safe, I also don't own the song 'This is War' by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

Edward

"Professor!" Susan waved her hand at Ed as he entered the library, calling him over to her table. "Over here!" The girl was sitting with a book opened in front of her, and papers spread all over the table. It was a familiar scene, one that Ed saw on a daily basis.

Edward walked over to join her. "Do you need something?" He asked with a smile.

"Can't I just enjoy your company?" Susan asked, returning his smile.

"I suppose," Ed laughed as he set his books on the table.

"…Hey, Professor?" Susan asked, turning worried brown eyes to meet his.

"Yeah?" Ed asked, puzzled by her sudden change in mood.

Susan turned in her chair so that she was facing him fully. "You wouldn't want anything bad to happen to me, right?"

Edward blinked, startled. "No, of course not," he replied.

The worry on Susan's face turned to sadness, her eyes shimmering with tears and her lip quivering. "Then why didn't you save me?" She whispered, slowly rising from her chair.

Ed felt a cold hand clench his heart, and he froze in horror.

Crimson blood spilled from Susan's heart, dripping down to form a puddle of red at her feet. "Why didn't you save me?" She repeated, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Tears began to fall from her eyes now dull eyes, and her once vibrant skin turned grey and lifeless. Susan took a step forward. Edward flinched at the clacking sound as it echoed through the library, and took a stumbling step back. As the noise faded, the room did as well, leaving an endless expanse of black.

"I needed help, and you weren't there…"

Clack; forward. Stumble; back.

"Didn't you worry about me? Didn't you care?"

Clack; forward. Step; back.

Edward struggled to find words of defense, something to say, anything; but he couldn't. Because she was right. Everything she said; it was all the truth.

"You didn't save me…"

Clack. Step.

"And you didn't save Nina…"

Clack. Step.

"And you can't even save Al…" Susan halted her advance, glaring at Edward with her sunken eyes. "Don't you care about us?" Her voice was no longer a rasping whisper, but now a loud accusation.

"I will save Al!" Ed cried in protest. "I'm going to save him, I–"

"Then why is it taking so long?" An echoing voice interrupted.

Ed turned in shock to see the familiar suit of armour that housed his brother's soul. "A-Al, I…"

"Why is it taking so long, Brother?" Al asked again, armour clanking as he stepped forward. "I've been stuck like this for four years, and here you are wasting time playing teacher!"

"I know, Al," Ed said desperately, reaching his arm out to his brother. "I promise, as soon as I finish this stupid assignment–"

"Is that all I was, Professor?"

Horrified, Ed froze in the act of reaching towards Al and looked once more at Susan.

"Just a stupid assignment?" Susan asked, sounding on the brink of tears once again. "A waste of time?"

"No–no of course not!" Edward cried. "Of course you–of course not!"

"So is all of this–" Al waved his arms, indicating the school around them. "–Another countries' problems–is all of this more important than your own brother?"

"N-no–I mean–stop it!" Ed yelled, falling to his knees.

"Professor Elric!"

Ed jolted awake, falling from his seat and landing on the floor in an undignified heap.

"Oh…are you alright?" A feminine voice asked worriedly.

"Yeah…fine," Ed replied, putting his hand out to get his bearings. He found the desk to his left and pulled himself up, facing the girl who had woken him.

"What is it?" He asked Hermione, swaying slightly from his abrupt transition.

"Oh–well," Hermione began, flustered. "It's–I mean, our class is–"

Eyes widening, Ed whipped out his watch. 'Oh. I guess I slept a long time then.' Looking past Hermione, Ed saw his four other students standing right inside the door. "Right, sorry about that," he apologized.

Edward waved his hands toward the desks, and the five remaining students hurriedly took their seats. Ed was quite pleased that this class, one of his largest, had been cut completely in half; going from ten students to five. Di Angelo, Granger, Jackson, Longbottom, and Malfoy – those five had persisted throughout the most difficult lessons.

Ed allowed himself a smirk as he faced the class. They had lasted so far, but it wasn't going to get any easier. And Ed was looking forward to testing their limits.

"Today we will be talking about different types of alchemy," Ed announced. He wasn't able to get any farther before three hands were in the air. Ed barely managed to contain his sigh. "Yes, Longbottom?"

"W-well, sir," The boy stammered, "what do you mean by 'different types'? Isn't all alchemy the same?"

"Not even close," Ed scoffed. "Remember, alchemy is the science of understanding, deconstructing, and reconstructing matter, and not all matter is the same. Alchemy can be used for all sorts of matter, and every alchemist chooses a different field of expertise.

"For example," Edward continued, clasping his hands behind his back. "My commanding officer specializes in flame alchemy, another alchemist I know specializes in stone transmutations, and I once met a man who specialized in water alchemy. No alchemist could possibly learn how to apply alchemy to everything they come across, so instead, you pick one area to study and master." Ed turned to the chalkboard and began writing. "At the end of today's class, you will each pick an area that interests you and begin researching it. By the end of the month, you should be able to complete basic transmutations with little to no trouble."

Ed turned to face the class again, smirking at their eager expressions. 'Don't get too excited. It's not like this is going to be easy for you.'

Sure enough, by the end of the class, none of the five were looking quite so happy about their progression.

"Alright, your homework is to pick one of the area's that we discussed and begin researching it." Ed tossed his chalk into a desk drawer. "Any questions?"

Hermione's hand was in the air before he had finished speaking. "Yes, professor, I was wondering – you said that your commanding officer practiced flame alchemy, but you didn't mention it at all in your lecture." The Gryffindor appeared to be extremely concerned by her lack of knowledge.

"Well," the young professor explained, "flame alchemy is a…special case. In fact, my commanding officer is the only person with the knowledge of that particular alchemy; so I couldn't teach it to you even if I wanted to."

Hermione's face fell in disappointment. "Is there a reason that flame alchemy is a secret?" She inquired.

Ed paused and leveled a grim stare at his students. "Alchemy itself is dangerous in the wrong hands," he reminded them. "Flame alchemy is powerful–very powerful. If the wrong people got their hands on it, I can assure you that nothing good would result."

Hermione nodded slowly, along with the rest of the class. Gathering their supplies, they exited the classroom.

~o~O~o~

The quiet murmuring and rustling of pages greeted Ed as he entered the library. He closed his eyes took a deep breath, relaxing as he took in the scent of old books. Libraries had always had a calming effect on him. Opening his eyes, Ed's gaze fell on the table that Susan had occupied so many times. It was empty now, looking lonely and forsaken without the usual piles of books and papers. Ed's gut twisted, all traces of calm vanishing. Clenching his jaw, he walked stiffly to the opposite side of the room.

Sitting at an unoccupied table near the wall, Ed set down an unappealing stack of papers that needed grading. Of all the things he hated about being a teacher, grading homework was near the top of the list. There were so many better things he could be doing with his time instead of marking up students' incorrect scribblings.

Unfortunately, increasing the anxiety and self-esteem of his students with a few swipes of his pencil was part of his job. Gritting his teeth, Ed pulled out the first paper and set to work. He hadn't been working for long when a shadow fell over the table. Looking up in annoyance, he saw the familiar black-haired boy who had made him doubt his entire existence. Lovely.

"We need to talk," Nico said grimly, eyes darting around the library anxiously.

Edward grimaced, holding back a groan. "About what, exactly?" He asked, leaning his head on his flesh hand.

Nico slipped into the seat next to Ed. "Well…it's complicated," he said hesitantly.

"Of course it is," Ed muttered, letting his hand fall to the table with a sigh. "Just get it over with, the sooner the better I suppose."

Nico opened his mouth, then quickly shut it again as two girls walked past their table. When they were out of earshot, Nico spoke.

"You see," Nico began hurriedly, "there's a prophecy–"

Ed's head hit the table with a loud thunk, cutting Nico off mid-sentence.

"Of course there is," Ed groaned, head still on the table. "Of course there's freakin' prophecy. Because why the heck not. I'm guessing it somehow has something to do with me?"

"Well…yes, actually," Nico confirmed, throwing an anxious glance back at the library door.

Ed groaned again and lifted his head up. "I guess you had better explain then," he said in resignation.

Nico smiled. Even long after the boy had left him alone in the library, Edward found himself wondering once again if he was dreaming.

~o~O~o~

"How were your classes today, Brother?"

| Ed fell back onto his bed as he turned his head to look at Alphonse, attempting to judge his intentions. He could be actually wondering about his class. Or his question could be a cover for probing at how Ed himself was feeling. It was hard to tell with Al.

"It was fine," he replied evenly, careful not to let too much emotion into his tone.

"Fine?" Al asked skeptically, tilting his armoured head.

Ah. So he was asking about Ed.

"Yeah, fine," Ed repeated tersely. He didn't need Al worrying about him; it wouldn't accomplish anything, and Ed didn't need sympathy.

Al was silent, but it was obvious that he was not fooled. That was the problem with being brothers, Ed supposed; no matter how good of a lier he was, Ed couldn't fool his little brother.

"I'm alright Al, really," Ed insisted, his tone softening.

"If you say so." Alphonse stood, armour creaking, and made for the door. "It's getting late; I should help guard the entrances." He stopped with the door open and looked over his shoulder at Ed. "Try to rest, Ed," he said worriedly. "You haven't been getting enough sleep lately."

Ed smiled. "Don't worry, I will," he promised.

Al made a quiet sighing noise and exited the room. When the door clicked shut firmly behind him, Edward let the fake smile slide off his face. Alphonse, always trying to take care of his older brother–always making sure that Ed slept even when he himself couldn't–Ed couldn't possibly ask for a better brother.

Ed only wished that Al didn't have to worry about him. He wished that he could be the older brother that Al deserved. He was the older one, he should be the one taking care of and protecting Al–but now his brother was stuck in an unfeeling suit of armour that almost needed no protection at all.

How was Ed supposed to protect something that was created for the act of protecting? That suit of armour that represented so many things–Ed wanted so badly to be rid of it. The armour was a reminder of all that they had lost, and so much more.

By trapping his brother in that armour, Ed had made his brother into a protector, when he should still have been the protected. Armour is such a heavy burden to bear. Not only because of its metal composition; but because armour is built to protect. And the task of protection is a heavy weight to carry.

Because of Edward's mistakes, his younger brother was forced to bear that burden; a burden that should never have come to him. Now Al was the protector, and Ed was the one who needed the protection. And Ed hated it. He hated it so much that it hurt.

Ed wanted nothing more than to take that burden from Al, to somehow make his brother see that he didn't have to be the protector. But no matter how hard he tried, no matter how often he reassured; kind, patient, Al would continue protecting.

So Edward swore to do all that he could, everything in his power, whatever he was able, to get his brother's body back. He had to; because he couldn't let Al be the protector forever. The weight of the protector was his burden to bear, and he wouldn't let his brother carry it for any longer then he had to.

Even though, his mind whispered, he's already carried it for far too long.