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Brynn

Chapter 12: Irony

'I shouldn't be here.'

Ed kept repeating the thought to himself like a mantra, hoping that it would distract him from what was currently going on in front of him. Harry and Draco – he had forced himself to think about them like that – both knelt on Alphonse's bed, facing each other and holding hands.

He had never seen anything this… this… anything like this. It was magic. That something between them reminded him of himself and Al, but this connection was on an entirely different level. He guessed that it might have been what people called love.

Sure, he loved Al, in fact Ed loved Al more than anything in the world, but it just wasn't this unrestrained spontaneous elemental emotion. The air cracked with cumullated energy and then, when Ed finally thought he couldn't watch further and had to run away, there was a short flash of light and the tension in atmosphere released. The only things that suggested something had happened there were the faint smell of ozone and the limp body in Harry's arms.

The white-haired man (when did the hair grow that long?) was clutching it, hanging to it, with his face buried in the nape of its neck. Ed knew he shouldn't have spoken.

"Is he…"

'He's going to be alright. But with the magic of a common Muggle – means no magic at all…'

"What did you do?"

Harry lay Draco gently on the bed, covered him up to the chin, and left the room, dragging Edward out by his wrist when he seemed to hesitate.

'I stole it. I stole it all…'

"What are you going to do now?"

Harry let go of Ed's hand and disappeared.

o

'I'm going to kill 'the bastard'.'

Harry for a fact knew exactly what it was he was giving in exchange for being able to do magic here (which was one of the most important reasons why he stole all Draco's magic) and thus destroying Voldemort all of sudden became a game of wit that had nothing to do with sheer power. Having spent half of his life hiding his secrets from Dumbledore, Snape, Moody, Remus, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Draco, Harry was quite accomplished in that.

He didn't doubt Voldemort was as well, but after that show in Risembool he also new that right now the wizard was weak and could be weakened further by simply making him feel threatened. Which was sort of Harry's mission anyway.

"Get out of the way!"

Harry ducked, subconsciously putting up a shield. There was machine gun fire, a snap and a single shot.

'Great. I Apparated into the middle of a battle.

At least I know Ed knows his geography.'

"Is he alright?" asked an anxious boyish voice.

"How did a civillist get in here – unless he is-"

"Fullmetal!"

Harry looked up at ten booted feet.

'Bloody instincts; I would feel better if I met somebody random for a change.'

"Don't be stupid, Sergeant. Fullmetal is at least three inches shorter."

o

Roy's eyes skimmed the figure lying on the cobbled stone in the centre of the former street. The young man was definitely not Edward, despite the fact that he wore clothes that might have been Edward's. Roy knew damn well that the child had a set of black tank tops, black pants and black boots, but he had never heard that Edward started lending them out.

Apart from the three odd inches, this person's hair was white, not blonde, as even Fury could have noticed, and clashed rather unnaturally with the otherwise obvious youth of the body. The complete (and vastly thinner than Edward's trained) body. Because, even though they couldn't see both legs, both arms were flesh. And then the boy looked up and they could all see that he was not Fullmetal, because he had these striking green eyes.

Hawkeye gasped and aimed her gun at the person, but Havoc and Fury were already squatting next to him. Roy suppressed a sigh. Another hold-up. At this rate they were going to reach the main battle after it ended. Not that he was keen on dying… but he didn't like the waiting.

"This is a warzone. I am Colonel Roy Mustang of the National Military. State your name and business."

The green-eyed boy looked at him with amazement, then slapped his forehead and gestured that he was mute.

'Oh, joy.'

"Colonel!"

He looked to the right and brought his hand up in a reflex, but Riza had been faster. Her gun barked twice and both shots hit the long dark shape that appeared in the alley.

He dismissed the person as dead – Hawkeye never missed – but they walked on, completely ignoring that they had – at least in the way Roy understood it – just received two fatal shots. As he knew Riza it was one to the head and one to the heart to make sure. But they still walked on, with that ridiculous black cape flapping in the wind that just wasn't there. An occasional breeze, maybe, but not strong enough to move clothes. Fucking Homunculi.

"Potter…" the thing hissed.

The Fullmetal-ish clad boy climbed to his feet with his face screwed up in hatred first, but then he let it ease, and eventually even smirked. Roy had an eerie feeling as though Edward was there, even though it was completely irrational to believe that the brat's presence would change anything… He knew he was going to die even before he reached the battle.

o

'Hello, Tommy.'

Harry had expected at least a thunder, or a flourish, but there was no dramatic sound effect accompanying the statement that had just sealed his fate. He thought a well-Occluded wordless goodbye to Draco and, not letting his feelings show on his face, stood straight, smirking at the creature.

'I have not been awaiting you.'

'I couldn't miss this.'

No, he had promised to ensure that the black-haired man that was standing two steps from him, the one with deep dark eyes and a voice that sounded of jessamine, would see the lights of the morrow. And would come back to Central. He had enough life for that, as long as he managed to provoke the snake-face.

He Accioed both wands out of his boots and held them loosely in both hands.

'I saw your shoddy work in Risenbool. Didn't take too much effort to figure out where I can meet you. Not that I yearned to meet you again… I just hate leaving work half-done.

Missing Lucius? Severus? Or Bella?'

Lestrange was sure to strike. No matter how emotionless the 'Dark Lord' claimed to be, Harry knew that there was just a Slytherin underneath it all. And, after a year spent so close to Draco, he knew how to deal with Slytherins – especially how to enrage them.

'And now you're alone, homesick, and helpless.'

'I can eradicate every human within the walls of this city.'

Harry peripherally noticed movement among the soldiers. The woman fired again, not understanding why her well-aimed bullets made no damage becase she couldn't see the shield Voldemort had erected around himself.

He Petrified Mustang. If he was the kind of man Ed had thought, there was no other way of ascertaining he wouldn't try and take on Voldemort one on one…

'No. I don't think you can. I would even bet that you can't. What say you? If you win… you can kill me and I won't put up resistance.'

Riddle stopped, keeping distance most likely due to Harry's sudden unpredictability.

'That's ridiculous. You will be dead by that time.'

Harry smirked again. Riddle had bought it. So it was done. Finished. Draco was going to stay with Edward. There was only one more thing for him to do.

'Then what's stopping you from doing it?'

Voldemort hissed instead of response.

Harry braced himself and layer after layer, thread after thread worked all the excessive magic he could reach into the most powerful, the steadiest shield he had ever created. It would have made Flitwick proud, but… the sphere barely stretched far enough to protect himself and Mustang. The woman, the two men who had looked whether he wasn't injured, and the one who had noticed Riddle as first would die.

Equivalent Exchange.