This is a special birthday update happy birthday to me! I've survived this long on the EARTH. If anyone wants to give me a present, might I suggest donating a little somethin' somethin' to the Navajo Nation's COVID 19 fund to help them out. I'd really appreciate it :)

If we're all very lucky I'll have the rest of this all written out before the FIC has its third birthday.

In the meantime, I'm fine and safe, life just has a habit of throwing curve balls at me and then also my brain likes to completely yank my writing schedule away from me for no reason. Please enjoy this birthday update, and stay safe out there.

/

"My job is to keep Harry Potter safe."

Ed had started the meeting out blunt, though Harry hadn't expected anything different.

"There are three big threats." Ed held up three fingers and counted each problem off. "One is Umbridge. Two is all the lying. Three is Voldemort.

"First," he grinned from behind his index finger, "we need to stop Umbridge."

"I like where you're going," Fred had said.

"But I think details are important," George had concluded.

"She's backed up by the Ministry," Ginny had added. "What can we do with that?"

Ed's grin had widened. If he had had two hands at that point, Harry had thought, he would have rubbed them together. "A lot."

/

Al watched out of the corner of his eye as Umbridge entered her office in the rush between classes. He waited, one moment, two, before the ugly shriek ripped through the hall.

The door swung wide open and he caught a glimpse of his handiwork – papers strewn everywhere and suspiciously red ink splashed across different surfaces – as Umbridge fled back down the hall, screaming for Filch, for the Headmaster, for any authority to listen to her.

Curious students followed the commotion and soon the hall was once again clear. The echos of murmurs carried through the halls; a reminder that he had to work quickly.

Al crossed to the door with sure strides, and methodically repaired the torn papers, dehumidified the red ink and stored it back in his armor. The books he had thrown on the floor he put back in their places, and the splintered quills were reformed.

He got back into position and settled before Umbridge returned with a calm woman in emerald green robes and a harried looking man with a scowl on his face.

Watching Umbridge try to explain to the deputy headmistress of the school that her office HAD been ransacked by some kind of obviously unhinged criminal was amusing. Watching her demand the man who, from what Al had seen was the only human custodian of the castle, clean up the already clean office was less so.

Al already knew that this woman was bad news, but watching her imperiously order people around really cemented his desire to send her packing. The watch he settled into was going to be a long one, he knew, but the reward at the end of his efforts was more than enough motivation.

/

Alchemy lessons should have been a welcome respite from the worry of the usual school problems, Draco felt. That was certainly why he was upset that Granger continued to be a fixture at every session, no other. There should be no reason for him to have to spend his extra time with HER, and yet here he was, listening to someone who hadn't even touched a wand before she was eleven get praised for her insights.

Then she had the nerve to explain her "insights" to him.

And here she was again, taking up the lesson with her stupid nattering about some muggle thing or other that had no connection to magic, and therefore no connection to alchemy.

They were walking back into the castle after a session of exercise that Elric demanded. As they walked, Draco had tried to subtly hint that she should keep her revolting muggle business away from him, but she persisted! Elric was unbelievably lenient with her, though Draco suspected things were quite different on the continent. After all, Mother had wanted to keep him in Hogwarts for a reason, even now after… after.

"Granger," he tried again. It was the third time today. "We really ought to get back on topic. Weren't we supposed to be discussing how the circle conducts the energy of the transmutation?"

Sometimes, sometimes, he could stop her, bring her back on topic, and let them all get on with it. He hoped that this time it would work. Elric had them practicing outside for some unholy reason, and he could no longer feel his nose. If he was going to suffer out here, he would suffer for alchemy. Not muggle nonsense.

"And that leads me to my next point!" Granger said. He could tell by the oblivious look on her face that she was about to charge in on a tangent that nobody wanted to hear. "I had read something about energy transfer over the summer, and the laws of physics – if I had known alchemy would be like this I would have brought some more of my science books! Fortunately I did get my parents to send me over some basic chemistry and physics texts for the holidays."

Elric nodded along like this was all natural, but Draco had stop walking in order to choke down disgust. Granger had brought this muggle nonsense to Hogwarts? And she was proud of it, too!

She stopped as well, and turned back to ask, "I suppose – would you like to take a look, Malfoy?"

Utter rage flooded Draco so completely he could almost smell cold fury, so when Granger tried to ask him a question he lashed out.

"Absolutely not," he spat. "As if I would ever look at that mudblood filth."

Granger gasped, shock quickly giving way to rage. That look in her eyes brought a memory to the forefront of Draco's mind – but the rush he got from the anger was too strong for him to back down now.

"What is 'mudblood'?" Elric's voice cut in, reminding Draco that he wasn't alone with Granger.

Elric looked between them, his expression intent and focused, but otherwise completely neutral.

"It is a term to refer to those who have been allowed into Hogwarts, who should know what boundaries they should not cross," Draco informed him, looking back to Granger.

She didn't look away, glaring a challenge back at him. "It's a vile insult to people who don't happen to have four magical grandparents," she said, and by Merlin this fool couldn't even get the definition right.

He sneered.

In the split second Draco knew he had before Granger hauled off and hit him again, he heard the crunch of snow, coming from the side, and then –

Something hit him in the gut, knocking him to the ground. He gasped for breath, then gasped again as the pain spread from the impact. Elric stood over him, still impassive, but the not-quite-risen sun cast harsh shadows on his face, and Draco felt as if he were being pulled under, as if something were rising up to overwhelm him.

Elric bent down, and hauled Draco to his feet by the front of his robes. Even then, Draco couldn't stand fully; Elric was pulling him down, so they were face to face.

"Maybe you figured out one is all, all is one by accident," there was a layer of barely contained anger in Elric's voice. Draco tried to get away, but his robes were still caught fast, "if you think you are somehow better because you think humans need breeding papers like prize horse."

"Edward," Granger's voice came from somewhere outside of Draco's current world, comprised only of the furious face of his alchemy teacher, his pounding heart, and his certainty that Elric could kill him if he pleased. "I will have to report you if you do hit him again. I don't think he's worth it."

And that stung. Draco didn't care what SHE thought, and yet her complete dismissal of him stung.

Elric released his grip, sending Draco stumbling into the snow.

"In seven days, come to me and tell me how you understand where you are in one is all, all is one," he said, not even looking at Draco. "Maybe you can still study."

Neither Elric nor Granger looked back as they left Draco crumpled on the ground.

/

After the first week back from break, Umbridge called Ed into her office again.

"It's a shame," she twittered, "that we haven't been able to talk, recently."

She pushed a cup of tea towards him.

"The Ministry has been quite pleased – has been supportive of the changes within Hogwarts," she continued. Ed could see her bulging eyes flicking down to his teacup. Interesting. "I'm sure your people at home would be quite impressed with the level of academic achievement we will have by the end of the year."

"It would be a topic of much talk," Ed agreed politely.

"I, of course, have big plans for the spring term," Umbridge continued. Ed knew either she hadn't really heard what he had said, only that his tone sounded agreeable, or she was filing his exact wording away for future reference. However, considering she had given him a language test the first day they'd met, Ed was betting on the former.

Umbridge nudged Ed's tea even closer. He picked it up and carefully added a spoonful of sugar.

"It's important with any reform to have those on the inside who are invested with seeing the change through; those with proper vision and ability should be rewarded as they aid any reform as it goes forward. This is especially important with this school, I believe." As she talked, Umbridge had leaned forward, staring intently at him as the volume of her voice rose. "There are forces of corruption here that need to be sorted, from the faculty to the students. It must be done, for the sake of the future, and I have been invested with the responsibility of seeing this task through to the end, despite the lack of trust, and cooperation from every possible point!"

She paused here, panting slightly. As if realizing just how insistent she had been, Umbridge pulled back and smoothed her cardigan.

Ed raised his cup, not looking away from her. He tipped it slightly so that the lukewarm tea ebbed against his lips. He swallowed, then set the cup back on its saucer.

He had not opened his mouth since he had last spoken.

Umbridge still smiled at him, and continued in a much calmer tone, "Of course, being able to rely on individuals from the Ministry or the faculty or the student body will be important. I believe that our cooperation – with myself as a Ministry official and you as a student – will be the beginning of a new era for this school."

'As a student'. Hell, wasn't this woman supposed to be a career politician? But he nodded along, watching Umbridge build the staircase for her own downfall in her mind.

"Now that you've had your tea," she said, nodding at the pink cup in Ed's hand, "why don't you tell me what kind of adventures you've had in Gryffindor Tower?"

Ed didn't sigh. So she had drugged the tea. Well, might as well play into what she wanted…

"Is not always so easy to understand," he said, smoothing out the sharp hissing of English and putting some strength back into the consonants. "But sometimes I see at night the door open after curfew. But it late then, so I do not see who goes in or out. Sometimes I think maybe I am up too late then, that I am seeing things."

The trick with this type was to give them just enough rope to hang themselves with. The rest of the meeting Ed dropped little hints, knowing that she would greedily snap them up.

They would have to change some of their habits with the D.A., he knew, and nobody would be happy about that, but sometimes you had to reorganize a school club in order to deal with an actual adult. They'd understand, Ed felt.

Or Al would talk them around. One or the other.

/

Ed meandered back into the common room moments before Harry was about to leave for his first occlumancy lesson.

Harry glared at him. "Where the bloody hell were you?"

Ed shrugged. "Unavoidable meeting. You have one now, yes? Let's go."

"I was waiting for you!" Harry protested. "I was half sure you'd end up abandoning me."

"No, not now," Ed said, strolling along next to Harry. He stretched, arms reaching above his head, before shaking out his left hand – his flesh hand, Harry remembered. After learning about Ed's metal limbs, Harry could see a lot of little ticks Ed had that seemed such obvious giveaways to what lay beneath gloves and boots, now that he knew what to look for. Maybe it was for the best that no one in Britain had heard of automail.

Snape was waiting for them in his dungeon, and sneered as they walked in. This time, his sneer was centered on Ed instead of Harry.

"While I appreciate your sudden interest in attending to your duties, I don't believe your presence will be necessary."

"That is fine, then," Ed replied, settling into a corner and putting his feet up on the bench. "I will be quiet here and there will be no bother."

Snape's sneer deepened. "If you believe that I would go against the Headmaster's orders –"

"If you follow the orders, I do not understand why I'm being here is a problem," Ed interrupted, making Snape so furious his lips lost all color. "You have nothing to hide, so why is fight?"

Harry didn't even breathe. Snape glared fire at Ed, while Ed watched him with a kind of lazy ease Harry had never seen on someone challenging a teacher. It reminded him of some scenes from American rebel movies that Dudley liked to watch sometimes.

The moment seemed to hold, poised between Snape tearing Ed's skin off verbally and Ed trying to kick Snape in the face. Abruptly, Snape swung to face Harry. His cloak swirled around his ankles.

"Occlumancy is the art of blocking unwanted intrusions into one's mind," he said. His speech was stilted and his nostrils still flared whenever Ed shifted in his seat, but for the rest of the lesson he, not once, looked or otherwise acknowledged that Ed was in the room. Even as they ended the lesson for the night, Snape spoke only to Harry in clipped sentences.

It was a surreal experience. Harry had expected this night to feature Snape upbraiding him on all the ways he lacked mental discipline or whatever. Instead, Snape merely snapped at him to pay attention and to clear his mind whenever he failed to occlude.

By the end of the night Snape had no color in his face, Harry was tired and confused, and Ed had an upsettingly contemplative look.

Harry wasn't looking forward to the next lesson, but he could honestly say that this had gone better than he had expected.

/

If Hermione hadn't looked up in time, she would have missed it.

A mail owl swept past the students eating breakfast to land at the staff table in front of Professor McGonnagal. She delicately accepted the letter, which bore a heavy and official-looking seal.

Down the table, Umbridge had stopped eating and was trying to watch McGonnagal unobtrusively as she opened the letter.

As she read it, her eyebrows crept up her forehead. She folded the letter, pursing her lips.

Hermione held her breath as the two professors locked eyes for only a moment before McGonnagal looked away, giving an ever-so-slight shake of her head and a small sigh.

Umbridge slowly turned very pale, save for the bright pink blotches of color across her face, her eyes bulging even more out of her head than usual and her lips pursed so tightly that her wide frog-like mouth seemed merely a white gash across her face.

Next to her, Edward grinned as he drank his coffee.

/

Potions class meant dealing with Slytherins, and dealing with Slytherins was rarely worth the effort. They tended to be vain, shallow berks, the lot of them, and had conversations to match.

(Sometimes Ron added up the cost of all the little items they considered 'normal' for day-to-day life and wished that he weren't so good at adding, since it could make his blood boil.)

Today, however, Ron had somehow gotten stuck with Edward, who was paying more attention to the Slytherins the next table over than he was to the potion they were supposed to be making. The blond git wasn't looking at the snakes, but whenever the group lapsed into thoughtful silence, he had the same look on his face as he'd had this morning.

And now Ron was curious. While he chopped his clover, he turned an ear to the conversation.

"I don't think so," one of the snakes was saying. "She is backed by the Ministry."

"Yeah," Parkinson said. "But that doesn't change the fact that it was McGonnagal that got that letter, and not her!"

Zabini hummed. "She had quite the face on her for the rest of breakfast, too."

"Ooh, do you think Malfoy will have anything to say about this?" Parkinson asked.

"'Course he will." Zabini sounded bored. "Though it's all Malfoy Senior talking."

A few high society laughs were had. Honestly, hearing that subtle dig was probably worth listening to their posh drawls, Ron figured. Then Zabini continued.

"But really, we'll have to see which way he's going to jump."

Parkinson nodded. "Malfoys always know where the wind is blowing."

Ron wanted to listen more, but Hermione walked by and surreptitiously kicked him in the ankle to remind him that his cauldron was about to boil over, and Ron had to deal with that AND his throbbing ankle.

/

Like last week, Ed caught Harry as he was leaving to go to his "remedial potions" lessons.

"What are you doing here?"

Ed gave him a bored look. "I think we already answer this question," he said.

"You saw, Snape was just a prat like he always is. He's not out to kill me," Harry objected.

It wasn't like Harry disapproved of people trying to keep him alive, in fact it was rather nice to finally have someone actually invested in believing that there was danger out there. Having Ed as a bodyguard though, was…

Sometimes Hermione would go off about how Harry should trust people, trust adults. Would say that he was too young for all of this, that they should all be worried about their studies. Ron never said anything during these tirades, and he would share eye-rolls back and forth when Hermione got on about grades, but sometimes he would get a look on his face – his eyebrows would raise up in his 'she's got a point' expression. Then Harry would throw pillows at both of them, or sigh and slump back in his chair.

Seeing Ed shoulder the responsibilities of his body guarding job seriously was bringing those lectures Hermione gave into an uncomfortably sharp focus. Protection from Voldemort always seemed to need something more than human to work, something like the ancient, powerful magical buildings of the Castle, or some kind of esoteric mother's love protection that Harry was still trying to wrap his head around. Not someone who was his age and a good half a head shorter than he was.

Ed was too young to learn how to apperate, wasn't of age in the wizarding world, and yet everyone was trusting him to be his bodyguard. That thought itched at Harry's mind, sending echos deeper into thoughts that he couldn't quite reach.

They were distracting, too. Snape looked down his nose at Harry and started listing his failings, starting with how he OBVIOUSLY hadn't been practicing. Harry tried to keep his face blank. Snape was right – about the not practicing thing. But Harry wasn't about to let him have the satisfaction.

Snape was really working himself up, but even he needed to breathe. In the brief silence of his inhale, a metallic CLUNK echoed through the room.

Ed, who had been sitting in the corner at a table this whole time, looked at them with bored eyes, and right hand clenched in a fist, resting on the table.

"I am not hearing tips for magic, and it is late. I think maybe it is time to go." He stood up, and made his way to the door.

"Come on, Harry."

Harry hesitated, caught in the middle of a challenge. He wanted to leave, but he wasn't happy about the prospect of Ed dealing with the fallout.

"I don't remember ending the lesson," Snape said.

Ed still looked bored, as he turned back. "I do not see how insults is a lesson."

Snape pursed his lips so tightly that all of the blood drained out of them before he said, "I do not expect you to learn during these times."

"But I have. And I have learned more tonight. But now is time to sleep."

The air was tight with anger. Usually when people yelled at Snape, he would snap back, take points, or turn on them. It was strange seeing him so… restrained with Ed. Strange and uncomfortable. Harry was a thing they fought over, and in this moment he didn't know how to get out of that.

"Students should not be in the halls past curfew," Snape said, voice ice cold. It was as close to a concession as he was going to give. "Potter, for once in your life, listen to good advice and practice. I see no reason to waste my time if you do not apply yourself."

"Good night, Professor," Ed said loudly before Harry could reply. He opened the door, and Harry walked out while Snape glared at them.

/

On the walk back to the Tower, Ed sighed. He looked like he might say something about what had just happened.

Instead, all he said was, "He is right for one thing. To practice is important."

They didn't say a word to each other the rest of the night.

/

It was quite obvious that there was rebellion brewing in the once hallowed halls of Hogwarts. It was obvious in the way that the children no longer showed proper respect to persons of authority; something they were obviously learning from their unfit teachers. Umbridge knew that the task she had taken on was going to be a challenge, but she hadn't expected the rot to have sunk in this deep. Or this far.

Oh yes, she had seen the official Ministry stationary being sent not to her, the Hogwarts High Inquisitor, but to Minerva McGonnagal, the right had lackey of Albus Dumbledore. Someone was poisoning the Ministry against her, against the work that she was doing.

Well, it wasn't as if that was a complete shock. The only surprise was the extent of the problem; progressing in a political career as successful as hers meant that one made more than a few enemies.

It also meant that one had access to more than a few allies.

The boy before her was one she had been cultivating this year. He wasn't quite what she truly needed at this time, but adults who saw sense in Hogwarts were few and far between.

"It's so wonderful to see true examples of a quality family these days." She smiled.

"Thank you, Professor," Draco Malfoy said with a calm smile.

"I hear that you're quite a bright student, and a leader among your peers. I was wondering if you could help me with a little project..."

/

Malfoy had a new badge pinned to his chest, Hermione noted. A stylized 'I' with some kind of scrolling or pattern behind it, making the entire thing difficult to parse. She suspected it was something to do with Umbridge, as yet another Educational Decree had gone up on the wall this morning, though Harry and Ron had hurried too quickly for her to really read it.

She had complained until Ron reminded her that it wasn't as if these Decrees were about to go anywhere any time soon, and that she should drink her tea, since she was always grumpy in the mornings before her cupa.

Hermione drank her tea and watched Malfoy as he prowled along the Slytherin table. Once or twice, he shot looks across the Hall, but quickly looked away when he noticed her watching. Interesting. Malfoy should be swanning across the room to rub his new authority in their noses, not keeping to the safe waters of his own House. After all, he'd made a point of showing off his prefect badge at the beginning of the year.

How odd.

/

Harry was in no mood for Occlumancy tonight. The week had been horrible, with Malfoy marching about the castle as Umbridge's lapdog. He and his lackeys seemed to be targeting anyone who crossed Harry's path, taunting him by never coming at Harry directly.

It made Harry's skin crawl, knowing that more people were being targeted because of him. He had mentioned this to Ed and Ron, as they were getting ready for bed after a very late study session with Hermione. Ron had just grunted but Ed had hummed thoughtfully. Harry wasn't sure where that thought train was headed, but he'd been too tired to care.

He'd been too tired to care about Occlumancy, but he'd had Ed for that. Most nights Ed would poke Harry to at least try and clear his mind, not that it really worked, nor would it appease Snape. Hell, Harry was sure that he could show up one day and be able to perfectly block Snape from his mind, and the man would still find a way to complain and belittle him.

The dungeons were cold and damp as ever as Harry, followed once again by Ed, entered the room. Ed strode over to the chairs in front of a low fire and threw himself down. His boots thunked loudly as he planted them solidly on a near bench, and he leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. The weather had turned cold and a thick layer of frost had coated the grounds this morning, leaving Ed grumpy and monosyllabic, so he likely wasn't about to be of any help to Harry tonight.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," Snape said. As always, he looked overjoyed to see Harry. "Let's see just how far we can debase the noble art of occlumancy tonight, shall we?"

/

There had been reports on automail in colder winters, and Ed had read those reports – so had Winry, as a matter of fact – but words on paper were nothing compared to living through something. Before she had left, Winry had changed some of the metal composition of his automail to be better suited to colder climates, but that didn't change the way Britain somehow managed to be damp and icy at the same time. There was no way to truly defend himself from the way the cold wormed its fingers into the metal of his automail, and into his joints, into his bones, making them ache. He had woken up in the middle of the night, with what felt like cold sinking into his spine, and hadn't been able to fall back to sleep.

It hadn't really gotten better from there.

Spending the night watching one of the worst teaching sessions Ed had ever seen was a terrible way to cap off a terrible day. He had never taught anyone, and he never really was interested in teaching, but even he could see that the occlumancy lesson had been abysmal, even by the admittedly low standard he had come to expect from Snape over the months.

Sitting in the pre-dawn grayness, Ed had the sinking feeling that Snape's half-assed teaching job was going to involve some kind of effort on his part in the near future. The wind whistled across the window pane and Ed grit his teeth as his bones twinged in sympathy. Everything else was awful today, so of course he was going to have to figure out how to deal with Harry's occlumancy lessons one way or the other. Either by teaching the lessons himself, or by bocking Voldemort's connection to Harry.

Because that was his life. Mustang dumped him into tangled problems and it was Ed's job to fix them like an obedient military dog.

He could only wallow for so long, however. Around him the other boys were stirring, and it didn't matter what Ed thought of Mustang's methods; he had chosen to join the military, after all. In the end it was only a means to an end.

There hadn't been much of use in the wizards' library, but at least he had found the truth behind the philosopher's stone, and even if that was a dead end, there had to be something he could find out here in his remaining six months. If nothing else, he and Al should be able to figure out what was going on with Harry's… situation.

Occlumancy might help him, but a skill like that took time to master, and given what had happened right before the holidays, they didn't have time. Tonight Ed would talk to Al, and see what he might have picked up, whether that be alchemy-related, or otherwise.

Between figuring that mess out, Ed could figure out his other goal, because he was determined to achieve it. One way or another, Umbridge would be leaving this castle in disgrace.

/

End note:

The letter to McGonnagal just asked her to look at umbridge, sigh, and shake her head. It was signed by Ed, so she played along.