I'm so sorry about the extreme time gap! I have been caught up in school lately and this became one of the things in the back of my mind. Now the coronavirus is everywhere and one of the only topics of discussion (I hope everyone is safe and healthy, by the way, and if you're not, I hope you have a swift recovery) and school isn't the only thing that's crazy, anymore.
No use crying over spilled milk, though. I hope you enjoy this chapter! As usual, anything I feel needs explanation will be explained at the end in the author's notes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. Nuff said.
Chapter 6: The First Task and The Yule Ball or Dangerous Flying Reptiles Should Not Be Used For Entertainment!
The day of the first task, November 24, came with all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.
Harry sat in the Great Hall, nervously picking at his food with the knowledge that soon he would be facing a full-grown, nesting, mama-dragon that may or may not want to rip him to shreds on sight.
Fun...
Not!
"You need to eat something, Harry!" Hermione fussed, staring at the untouched eggs and toast sitting on his plate.
"I know..." he mumbled, but the food remained as untouched as it was five seconds ago.
The bookworm huffed and gave him a glare that Harry momentarily compared to that of Mrs. Weasley before he took a bite to appease her. As he did so, he maintained eye-contact with a dull expression as if to say "Are you happy, now?". The food, usually divine on his deprived tongue, tasted like cardboard and sunk heavily into his stomach like a stone. His nerves were running higher than they had when he had his first Quidditch game in his first year, and that was saying something.
That was to be expected, though. He was about to look a mama dragon in the eye, say "screw you", and try to survive!
"Calm down, mate." Ron said; though, through the mouthful of oatmeal it sounded more like, "khal dhowu ha'y".
Hermione slapped the redhead on the arm, "Don't talk with your mouth full, Ronald!"
Gulping down another mouthful, Ron repeated what he said, waving his fork lazily around in the air, "Calm down, mate. You'll be fine. I did not spend weeks stressing over a summoning charm with you just to see you doubt yourself now!"
Harry smiled, "Right. Sorry." He took a deep breath. In. Hold. Out. Then, he took another bite of eggs; it no longer tasted like nothing.
Neville, who sat directly across from the trio, leaned in with a shy smile, "Good luck, Harry. I'm sure you'll do fine."
Harry's smile widened a bit, "Thanks, Nevile. I think I needed that."
Nevile gave a nod and returned his attention to his own plate of eggs. His eyes were roaming over a Herbology text he'd recently acquired.
Another breath, another bite. Harry really hoped the plan they had practiced would work. If not, he'd be sent flying (pun intended, I regret nothing) in all the wrong ways, and that wouldn't be any good. He still needed to finish his Alchemy homework, and he can't do that while in the hospital wing.
...
Juna was honestly caught off guard by just how loud the arena was. She knew there were a lot of people at the school, but even in the Great Hall the only times it got really loud were at the beginning of the year and when the foreign schools were being welcomed. Otherwise, people were focused on their friend groups and their food, so things rarely got too loud.
Now, it was like the population of the school had multiplied by three, and everyone was screaming at the top of their lungs in an attempt to out-screech the person next to them.
It was torture. Juna wanted to return to her quiet room where her beloved research notes lay on her table waiting to be filled with her slightly-above-illegible handwriting. Unfortunately, as a professor, her attendance in such school events was mandatory, so there was no escape from inevitable deafness.
Even the earplugs she transmuted from the edges of her coat were near useless in the face of such noise.
Hughes watched her from the corner of his eye, and he looked far too amused for the occasion in her opinion. She was very tempted to transmute a ditch for him to fall into but restrained herself for the sake of not giving him more injuries after he'd just recently gotten past a major point in his recovery.
He was working on endurance, now. He could walk around the castle with ease, but he tired quickly, and he still struggled with lifting things over twenty kilograms.
She'd take what she could get, though. Hughes had come a long way from when she'd first seen him again.
Physically.
Mentally, she wasn't so sure. Hughes hadn't been acting himself at all. He never randomly changed the topic to his family, and he'd lost a lot of the excitable aura that used to follow him wherever he went. She also had a feeling Hughes hadn't written to Gracia and Elicia yet; though, she couldn't prove it, yet.
It was painful to watch. She wanted to find out what was wrong, but she was clueless about how to do it. She's not the social one of the family. Al is. Mom was.
Juna quickly rid her mind of that topic before she went too deep.
She discretely pulled her coat closer to her and tried not to shiver. The three extra layers she wore did absolutely nothing good for her mobility, but she couldn't risk getting frostbite because of her automail ports, especially with the sort of cold, wet weather she was currently experiencing. She winced as the crowd's volume increased again.
It seemed Cedric would be going first. Her eye drifted to his opponent.
The dragon was huge. Intimidating. It looked like it wouldn't hesitate to kill the Hufflepuff and swallow him whole.
She didn't mean to swear, but what the fuck was that kind of creature doing in a school tournament? Emphasis on school!
Cedric looked paler than usual, and he was likely terrified -she didn't blame him-, but he took a deep breath and...
Transfigured a rock into a dog.
Juna blinked; her fingers twitched as she restrained herself from searching for a Stone. She would never get used to the lack of equivalent exchange. That would not be possible in Alchemy unless there was a Philosopher's Stone involved, and even then, she doubted it would be something people would use the Stone's properties for.
Who just thought, "Hey! I'm feeling lonely and want a dog! Oh, a nice old rock? You'll make a perfect little McFluffer!"
Seriously, who thought of that?! Wizards, apparently.
The dog was cute, though, and it likely looked like a tasty snack to the dragon, whose attention was now solely focused on the poor quadruped. Juna felt bad for it but remained silent for the time being. Ludo Bagman had no qualms about volume, though, and proceeded to yell out the commentary with his amplified voice, much to her continued irritation. The blonde was half-way tempted to go over and rip out his vocal cords so her poor ears could catch a break.
Woah! Calm down, Juna! Deep breaths. In... Out...
As she watched the dog bound about energetically, Juna recalled she still needed to ask Minerva her questions from Mustang's office and decided she would do that at some point during her next free period.
The girl noticed Cedric sneaking around, trying to keep the focus on the dog and not him. It was a simple, but clever plan; she wouldn't deny that even if she wasn't fond of Transfiguration due to the differing values of the trade.
The boy had been doing well, but it seemed it wasn't going to last. The dragon had grown bored of chasing McFluffles around and had set her sights on Cedric, who was now next to the nest, and the bigger threat than the cute, non-threatening dog. Cedric grabbed something from the nest: a golden egg, right as the dragon sent a lick of flames in his direction. He dodged, likely out of reflex rather than skill as it was rather poorly done.
He rushed out of the arena with a couple of burns for his troubles. She applauded politely.
The champion for Beauxbatons, Fleur, was next. She had a radically different approach to her dragon, but it can be just as clever if done right. She sang a lullaby, and like Cedric, the plan worked.
Mostly.
The hitch came when the dragon snored, and in a move almost worthy of being called comedic -had this not been a deadly tournament, it certainly would have been- the snort set the girl's skirt on fire. Fleur spent a moment panicking and spraying water from the end of her wand over her skirt before the fire went out and she proceeded with her plan. Afterward, things went unhindered, and Fleur left the arena with the golden egg and some singed clothes.
Juna's worries about giant flying reptiles weren't appeased.
Krum took a much more direct approach and used a curse targeting the eyes of his dragon. She'd heard from Hagrid, who'd once mentioned his passion for the giant reptile to her over dinner, that the eyes were a vulnerable spot because they didn't have the magic-resistant hide to constantly cover them. It was once again a smart move, though, it was far from totally moral. Some of the real eggs were crushed in the mother dragon's panic, and Juna felt a moment of sympathy for the mother. She'd just lost some potential babies to a pointless contest. She also understood what it was like to lose sight, even if it was only in one eye.
The automail eye was nice, but it wasn't like other eyes. It had a heat sensor that sent signals to her brain allowing her to "see" heat. It couldn't make out shapes and details like her regular eye, so she tended to keep it closed to avoid confusion or migraines. The exceptions would be when looking for things or people in the dark, as it provided a decent enough substitute for night-vision.
She ran her finger over said prosthetic which caught Hughes's attention for a moment before he returned his eyes to the arena before him. The man reached over and gave her fleshy shoulder a comforting squeeze.
Krum, like the two before him, continued on and retrieved his golden egg before leaving the arena as quickly as possible like the two before him.
This whole tournament was starting to look like a comparison in how the schools taught their students. Hogwarts looked for creativity, Beauxbatons looked for sophistication and elegance, and Durmstrang looked for power. She wondered what Harry would do.
Juna observed as the youngest champion walked out. He looked restless and pale, but oddly calm or detached; he was likely feeling an adrenaline rush. She knew the feeling well enough; being left on a deserted island for a month did that to you, and she did get into her fair share of fights as part of the military despite the fact her focus stayed firmly on research. She watched as he pulled out his wand and cried something she wasn't quite sure of the meaning, and waited.
She spotted something coming out of the corner of her eye and turned to see what it was.
It was a broom.
She saw Harry jump onto it, and watched as he performed some extreme aerial acrobatics that would have really shocked her if she hadn't spent the last three months surrounded by magic. She was impressed, though.
Harry had gotten the egg in record time, and she once again clapped politely, wincing as the crowd seemed to get even louder. She wasn't sure how it was possible, but it happened, and she hoped she wouldn't be dealing with hearing loss anytime soon.
Juna also concluded that the magical people were crazy. Why else would giant, fire-breathing reptiles be used as entertainment in a school tournament when they have been labeled as some of the most dangerous creatures in the magical world? She'd done her research when Hagrid had accidentally let slip his knowledge of the first task, and she had a feeling whoever organized this Tournament hadn't thought things through or had done so while severely drunk or high.
Then again, she was a state alchemist, and she didn't have much room to judge about safety, especially after what she and her brothers did.
She felt a hand land on her flesh shoulder, and she turned to see Hughes grinning like a child on their birthday. His eyes, however, sent her a message that said he wanted to talk.
"That was definitely an interesting show," he called into her ear, as a quieter sound would not make it to her coherently. He took the lead through the crowded bleachers, as he was tall and could see over the heads of the majority of the people in the crowd, and Juna allowed herself to be pulled along, trusting the man to not get her trampled.
"Indeed." she responded, also having to yell in order to be heard over the roaring crowds flanking her, "Interesting. I'm sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff will have much to celebrate tonight."
"Yeah. They probably will." Hughes swerved rather suddenly to the right to dodge a particularly dense crowd before he made his way down some stairs and back inside the castle.
They had gotten lucky, and were near the front of the great mob of people, so they quickly dispersed from the rest and began to find a quieter spot.
They chose Hughes's office.
"Care to sit down?" he asked as he set a kettle to boil for tea. He took a bowl of biscuits and offered one to Juna.
"I've done enough sitting for the day; though, I will have to do more in a little bit." Juna took a biscuit with a napkin she'd taken from the holder on the table and bit into it, careful to keep crumbs from falling.
"So..." Hughes began casually, falling into a seat with a tired thunk. They'd switched to Amestrian when they'd entered.
Juna waits for him to continue, patiently taking another bite of biscuit.
"I have a distinct feeling you'll be including giant flying reptiles being used as entertainment in your report to Mustang."
"That is the plan, yes." she nods, "I think it is important enough to include, as the Tournament is one of the major events of the year."
"That's good... Have you- Have you mentioned..." he gestures as if trying to catch the right words. His brow is furrowed in slight frustration.
"Have I made mention of you in any reports?" she asks, more as confirmation than as a question.
He nods sheepishly.
She shakes her head, "I am not opposed to doing so. However, I am giving you the chance to do so first, as I thought you would be all over the thought."
The man's eyes sink to his cup, an unreadable expression on his face, "So did I... I-I don't know why but..." he sighed, placing the cup down and placing his head in his hands.
It's times like these when Juna remembers this man has already been through a war. He's a tired man, who wants to see his family and live a happy life. But something is holding him back from doing so, and he's not sure what it is himself.
He stands abruptly, giving her a smile that was so blatantly strained it hurt to look at, "I'm going to grade papers. Make yourself at home and finish the tea. If you need me, I'll... ahh... be in the classroom." and he promptly stumbles out of the room.
Maes Hughes was definitely not himself lately. Juna watches the door close behind the man before she turns her attention to the rest of the room.
Hughes's office had a more casual approach to its design than most of the other teachers. There was a table in the center of the room with a set of six chairs around it and a spread of lesson plans resting on its oak surface. There was an armchair in the corner beside the lit fireplace with a small table for cups or other similarly small things; a bookshelf on the armchair's other side was filled with odds and ends and classic Amestrian Literature. A single window with parted curtains let in light and gave a nice view of the grounds, and on the adjacent wall was a door that led to his bedroom.
It was a nice room, but for some reason, it didn't quite seem right.
Juna let her eyes wander further, noting the inventory of the shelves and other minor details. Most notably, she looked for what wasn't there.
There were no photographs, no drawings made in crayon or colored pencil hanging on the walls like masterpieces. There were no picture books on the shelves or coloring books laying around. There were no random toys in the armchair or on the table, and no pretty puzzles dotting the floors.
It was his office, but it wasn't the office of Maes Hughes; Juna found the thought odd, but she couldn't seem to find another way of putting it.
She sighed, running a finger over her automail eye for the second or third time that day when she noticed something she had missed in her observations.
In the far corner of the room sat a wastebasket filled and surrounded by crumpled parchment. She picked one up and opened it as neatly as she could and stared.
It was a letter to Gracia and Elicia.
Dear Gracia,
It's me, Maes. I know it's hard to believe, but it really is me, and I'm alive...
There was a whole passage following that which was completely scribbled out to the point of illegibility. She could just barely make out the last portion:
There's nothing I wouldn't give to see you all again as soon as possible. I love you two so much, I regret (illegible through scribbling) return.
With Love,
Maes Hughes
She sorted through a few others, noting they were all letters, all addressed to one of two people: Gracia and Mustang.
Mustang...
She'd forgotten he was also here in Britain, working on strengthening alliances politically. All it would take is an owl and he'd be on his way here to see the evidence of Hughes's survival for himself.
Juna stared at the scribbly mess a little longer before she re-crumpled the letters and placed them back where they had been to the best of her ability before she straightened and began to think.
She estimated there were around eighty to ninety letters laying there, give or take. One letter for each evening if her calculations are correct, and that might not be accurate considering the house-elves tended to come in and clean the offices of their assigned professor every now and then. She was willing to bet he wrote at least four or five attempts an evening.
Juna wasn't sure what to feel; she rarely knew anyway, but that isn't the point. She was glad he was trying, as that means Maes Hughes is still in there somewhere, but she was also irritated, she wasn't sure what she was irritated with exactly, just that she was. Hughes was in there, but he wasn't okay.
She wondered why. Why was he struggling with this? He never had before, so what's different, now?
She thought back to that night. Hughes had called from a phone booth in the middle of the night, saying he had information. There was a gunshot, and the phone call went dead.
Everyone had thought he was dead.
A thought hit her.
Had Hughes thought he would die that night, too? After he was shot, did he come to an acceptance that he would never see his family again? Is his mind still struggling with this thought?
She thought that over for a moment. It sounded plausible. She wasn't sure how correct it was, but she only had what she knew and heard plus some of her own assumptions to work with. It would have to do for now.
If her idea's correct, then something needs to be done soon or it might never happen. She wanted Hughes to recover, and right now he was only getting worse. He may have fooled others, but she'd known Hughes for years, now. There was a tightness to his smiles that wasn't there before. She almost never saw him taking out his pictures of Gracia and Elicia, which was one of the first signs that something is seriously wrong with Hughes, and it seems she was finally figuring out what it was. A mental block.
Juna took a deep breath, refocusing her thoughts onto a more optimistic path. The real question right now would be what to do, not what was wrong.
She had just begun her new train of thought when the door opened. She turned to see Hughes and Snape standing in the frame.
"There's an unplanned teacher's meeting," Hughes explained as he gave her a shrug; he wasn't sure what it was about, either.
Juna joined them and they walked to the teacher's lounge together.
When everyone was seated (they were the last to arrive) Dumbledore began his explanation.
"It has come to my attention that some of you may not be aware of the upcoming Yule Ball that will be held over the winter holidays."
Any thoughts Juna had drifted to a screeching halt. A Ball? Dancing?! Socializing?!
"It is an event that is always held after the first task in order to bring the three schools together. Our four Heads of Houses have the job of making sure each student is educated in basic ballroom dance, and the four champions are required to start the Ball with the first dance."
Then came the death blow.
"While you are not required to dance or have a date to the dance, the attendance of everyone here in this room is mandatory."
Why? Just. Why?
After the figurative bomb Dumbledore dropped, he also mentioned there would be an Amestrian representative attending as a gesture of friendship between the two countries. She had a feeling that the person would be Mustang, as he was the one who was already here.
He would be reunited with Hughes, and it appeared that Hughes realized this, as his face had gone rather blank.
Mustang was one of the people who took Hughes's death the hardest, and if he saw him alive again after all the grief and trauma, he would flip. He would likely attack Hughes, call him an impostor or something of the sort.
It wouldn't be pretty, that's for sure.
Hughes seemed to be suffering from writer's block, and she had a feeling he wouldn't be getting over it on his own. This meant she's the one who needs to do something. The question is what?
She entered her bedroom and plopped into her desk chair, she swept her research materials off the table, for now. She wasn't about to sleep with all these depressing thoughts, so she may as well make the most of her time. She had some work to do.
...
The days flew by until the holidays were nearly upon them. Students were in a frenzy asking out others to the Yule Ball and finishing up the pile of homework that only seemed to grow by the day.
Harry looked down at the sheet of parchment that was his Alchemy homework. It wasn't due for another two weeks, but Professor Elric had mentioned one of the problems would likely take a long time to figure out and had recommended they start as soon as possible, and Harry had taken her word for it. Ron was beside him with the dream diary he'd been assigned in Divination, and Hermione had three different essays drying beside her on Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology and was making quick progress on the Alchemy assignment.
Professor Elric had once again assigned reading and a set of questions, this one more extensive than the last with review questions included to make sure the class still remembered everything.
Harry was on question six: Explain what a rebound is and why one might occur.
It was an easy question to answer, as it had been explicitly stated in the reading (there was a full chapter dedicated to it!), so he was quick to answer it and move on to the next question. He answered that quickly, too, and moved on again.
Explain the difference between Covalent and Ionic Bonds. Give examples of each. Don't give the same examples you gave on the quiz.
Another quick answer, but it took him a moment to come up with new examples. He moved on, and paused.
The next and last question was a bonus question she'd given. They were still required to answer it, but it would not be worth any points. She'd mentioned it had no answer that could be found in a book, which had Hermione staring into the abyss with a horror-struck look for a full hour, much to the amusement of everyone in the class.
In your words, explain what you think "All is One and One is All" means.
He frowned. That was a very weird question for Professor Elric. She didn't seem the type to give out riddles, but she also didn't seem the type to do things for no reason.
"All is One and One is All?" he murmured, "That sounds like that quote from The Three Musketeers."
"That's 'All for One and One for All', Harry." Hermione corrected. She looked on the verge of pulling her hair out, as she found herself staring in despair at the same question. Harry vaguely wondered what was going on through his friend's book-driven brain before he decided he'd rather not know and proceeded to do his own thinking.
"I said it sounds like the quote. Not that it is the quote, Hermione." Harry elaborated, as he nibbled distractedly on a chocolate frog.
He had no clue what to do with this question. He'd never heard this riddle, and he had no clue what it could mean. The only thing he had to go off of was the Musketeer quote, and they were clearly different quotes.
It was Saturday morning -Hermione had convinced them to do their homework early for once-, so that meant he could go see Professor Elric for some help. It would help him get the Yule Ball off his mind as well, as Harry wasn't really sure who to ask out as a date. Sure, he could ask Hermione, but something was stopping him from doing that. It just hadn't felt right for some reason that evaded him, leaving him still without a date and confused.
He stood, and Neville, who was previously immersed in his Herbology essay, looked up, "You going somewhere Harry?" he inquired with a tilt of his head.
"Just to see Professor Elric," he answered before he opened the Fat Lady's portrait and left.
Harry strolled through the halls at a leisurely pace; he had the time and needed to relax. Apparently strolling around was almost as calming as flying around the Quidditch Pitch. The parchment in his hands flapped slightly as his arms swung lazily at his sides. His quill and inkwell were in his other hand, and Harry noted that he'd need to get more ink soon. The bottle he had was running out.
Professor Elric's door was open when he arrived; it was always like that during Saturday Study Sessions, and he could hear voices coming from the inside.
He stepped in to find the classroom was empty save for two people, who were the ones talking.
It was Professor Hughes and Professor Elric.
Harry felt himself straighten up at the sight of the Muggle Studies Professor. The incident between him and Ron was still rather fresh despite how long ago it was. Professor Hughes knew how to make himself intimidating despite his friendly appearance.
They were speaking in that other language, so he didn't understand what was being said, but the conversation ended quickly after Professor Elric noticed him.
"Is there something you need help with, Mr. Potter?" she asked. Hughes turned around and gave Harry a friendly smile, which Harry awkwardly returned.
"I'll leave you two for now. Remember to stop by my office, Juna. I wanted to... ah, what's the phrase... catch up with you on some things." Hughes gave her a grin and left, giving Harry a pat on the shoulder as he left.
The action vaguely made Harry think of what a father was supposed to act like, but he reminded himself he was here for tutoring, not wishing.
Professor Elric stood, "You are the only one here today, Mr. Potter. Come. My office has more comfortable seats than the classroom, and I find myself wanting a change in scenery."
Harry followed her up to the office, which was rather simple compared to other offices he's been in. The blonde professor gestured towards the couch, an invitation to sit, and she sat down across from him and offered him a biscuit. He took one and the meeting began.
"I take it you have a question." Professor Elric stated, her back was straight and her hands rested folded on her crossed legs. She looked poised and mature. Harry vaguely pondered how old she was before he straightened his own back in an act of self-consciousness and started talking.
"I don't know how to answer question eight." he blurted out before he realized just how blunt and awkward that came out, and how stupid he sounded.
"The bonus question?" she asked, more for confirmation than anything.
Harry nodded.
"I see." she stared at him for a moment, assessing him, before she continued, "I wish to hear what you have already thought of before I start."
"Umm..." she raised her visible eyebrow and he felt his ears redden. He sounded like an idiot! "It sounds a lot like this one quote from a book I read in muggle school, The Three Musketeers."
"Could you tell me the quote?" she asked.
"It went something like..." he scrunched his nose in thought, "all for one and one for all, united we stand divided we fall."
"And did your teacher in... muggle school" her lip almost seemed to quirk slightly at the word 'muggle' as if she was trying to remain serious in an amusing conversation, "ever discuss the meaning of the phrase?"
"It meant that the group looked after each person and each person looked after the group or something along those lines..." he trailed off, "the second part is pretty clear. Together, you can handle more than you can alone."
Juna stared. She looked to be thinking, and Harry sat as still and quiet as he could so she could think in peace. It was a full thirty seconds later that she opened her mouth and began to talk, "I believe the phrase goes... You are on the right track. Focusing on the first part of the quote you mentioned, the two quotes are very similar, and the meanings are quite close. The only major difference is the context. Try to apply the quote to alchemy."
Suddenly she stood, "I'll let you think for a bit. Would you like some tea?"
He nodded mutely, caught off guard by the suddenness of the proposition, "Umm... sure."
With a nod of acknowledgment, the blonde left to prepare the required beverage.
Try to apply the quote to Alchemy? Harry wondered, feeling the urge to bang his head on the table. That would be so much more helpful if he knew how to do so. The Three Musketeers had nothing to do with Alchemy! Finding a comparison would be about as easy as raising a Blast Ended Skrewt in Harry's opinion.
Juna returned with the tea to see Harry with a frown and furrowed brows.
She almost snorted. The situation was so different from the deserted island she and her brothers were left on that it made her feel a little strange. It's funny, though. The deserted island had actually helped them in figuring out the riddle, even if they hadn't necessarily felt that way at first. Unfortunately, there weren't many deserted islands around here, and it would likely be considered inhumane torture, so she was left with what she could find on the grounds.
She placed the tray down and handed Harry his cup, which he took in the sort of distracted manner of someone doing something without realizing they were moving.
The young Alchemist stared at her student. He was stressed. She could tell that from the dark bags under his eyes and the rather prominent frown marring his features. The Tournament was getting to him it seemed. She took a sip of her own tea, careful not to grip the handle too hard, lest it break and make a mess.
A part of her wondered if he was getting enough sleep, but then she realized she had no room to talk, as there was a joke going around the Central HQ that she was secretly a vampire that never slept and survived off caffeine instead of blood.
Instead of voicing her concerns, she decided to let the boy think in silence, watching as he absently drank his tea with glazed eyes. Noting for the first time how skinny he was, she pushed a biscuit in his direction on a plain napkin and watched as he picked it up in the same manner he picked up the teacup and nibbled at it like he was a mouse instead of a human. The thought was vaguely amusing but she pushed the feeling down, noticing the time and the emptiness of the cups.
"I think that is enough for tonight." she declared. Harry almost fell off the couch with a startled yelp, and it was only his instincts as a Seeker and sheer, dumb luck that allowed him to catch the cup that flew from his hands before it hit the ground. He looked up at her sheepishly and began to apologize. Juna waved it off and dismissed him with one final piece of advice:
"Take a walk. Look around the greenhouses or other such places of nature. I found it helped my brothers and me when we were originally trying to solve the same riddle."
With that piece of strange advice, Harry left and returned to the Gryffindor Common room for bed.
He hoped things would be calm for a little while before chaos reigned supreme again.
He should have realized that would jinx him.
...
The next few weeks were chaotic. Professors were busy preparing for the Yule Ball, the cleaning spree was almost as intense as the one before the arrival of the foreign schools! Students were rushing left and right trying to find a date, and Harry was caught in the middle of it all with the other champions, who still needed to solve their eggs alongside finding dates for the ball and keeping up with schoolwork.
Harry seriously wondered what an unbearable screech was supposed to mean. Maybe Aunt Petunia was mistaken for a strange creature that they had to face?
He shook his head to rid himself of the fantasies of summoning frying pans to throw at her -let her know what it felt like-; he had to focus on the lesson. Harry wasn't quite sure when it would be useful to transfigure a porcupine into a pincushion, but who was he to judge people's logic?
Time flew faster than Harry's Firebolt, which wasn't very useful as Harry and Ron were still as alone as the sun in a cloudless sky; no dates to be seen for miles around!
As a matter of fact, it was complete luck that Harry had managed to get the Patil twins, as it seemed every girl he passed already had a date. Even Ginny and Hermione were already taken!
Ron was dealing with another problem altogether that had Harry almost pitying him: his dress robes.
Harry's dress robes were new, a nice emerald green. Ron's were maroon (his least favorite color), and looked like something that would have been fashionable a few centuries ago. Harry would admit that thing would find better luck being appreciated as the chew blanket for a dog; the dog would be glad to chew and rip the thing to shreds.
Sadly, as there wasn't enough money to buy a new set of dress robes, Ron was stuck with that... thing.
Padma Patil would not be happy.
And she most certainly wasn't. Ron spent the entire time sitting on the sidelines, trying to become invisible. Padma ended up dancing with some other guys instead while Ron brooded and watched Hermione dance with Krum. She looked to be having a blast, and Harry absently noticed that Krum appeared to be smiling.
Harry and Parvati didn't dance much together, either. They were required to do the first dance as Harry was the champion, but afterward, they agreed that splitting up to do what they wanted was the best option, as they didn't know each other well enough to do more than make awkward conversation. Harry joined Ron for a bit before having a quick chat with Neville about how awkward they both were then leaving to get some fresh air. The courtyard was also decorated, to a lesser extent than the Hall, and was relatively empty. There were some couples who'd left to spend some quiet time with each other, but for the most part, the place was deserted.
At least, he thought so until he spotted Professor Hughes. He sat at a bench in the corner and stared up at the stars. He had a faraway look on his face that, to Harry, looked very wrong on the man's usually friendly, smiling face.
He was moving on, knowing this probably wasn't any of his business, when he ran into someone. Harry shook his head to clear it and looked up to see who he'd accidentally rammed into.
It was a tall man that had an Asian look to him. His short, black hair was neatly styled and he wore a blue uniform that looked distinctly military. His hands here clasped behind his back and he stood tall and proud, even if he wasn't much taller than Harry, himself was.
"Sorry about that." the man apologized with a polite smile, "I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Are you alright?"
Harry took a moment to note that the man spoke with an accent similar to Professor Elric and Hughes before he realized the question was targeted at him, "Oh! Um... Yeah. I'm fine. I, um, wasn't looking where I was going either... yeah."
That... Could have gone better. Why was he such an awkward person!?
"Well, I guess it's best to just put that event behind us, then." His eyes widened slightly in realization, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself, yet. I'm Colonel Roy Mustang of Amestris. I'm here as a representative."
The man, Mustang, held his hand out for a handshake.
"Um... Harry. Harry Potter. Nice to meet you... Colonel?" Harry grasped his hand and gave it a shake, thankful, for once, for the etiquette lessons Aunt Petunia had jammed into his head as a child in an attempt to
"Mustang or Roy is fine. I'm not here as part of the military, and how can anyone enjoy a night when they have to worry about titles?"
Harry nodded in agreement, not sure how to respond.
"I'm actually looking for someone. Juna Elric. Would you by any chance know where she is?"
"Professor Elric?" he blinked in surprise, "Um..." he looked around to see if he could catch sight of her. She noticed her leaning on the wall, dressed in a similar uniform to Mustang's. She managed to look distinctly uncomfortable while simultaneously maintaining her stoic expression.
Harry pointed her out and Mustang's gave a light chuckle, muttering out a "Should have known" before he thanked the younger boy and made his way over to her.
Professor Elric turned her attention to the man and casually stood to her full height, not that it was very high, and gave the man a respectful salute. He saluted her back and with a few quick words exchanged, they eased into a casual discussion. Harry couldn't make out what they said, but it obviously wasn't too serious if their facial expressions were anything to go by. Appearances could be deceiving, though.
The blonde pointed in his direction and said a few more words. Then she left, weaving through the dancing couples with ease as if they weren't even there.
Mustang turned back towards him and began to walk. Harry stood a little straighter in case the man wanted to talk to him, but the Colonel walked past him and out the door into the courtyard. He did give the younger male a nod of acknowledgement, though, before he continued on his way.
He was heading straight for Professor Hughes. The muggle studies professor seemed too lost in thought to notice. The uniformed man stopped and planted himself on the professor's left, looking up at the sky. He apparently said something because Professor Hughes's head snapped sideways in surprise, and he tensed the slightest amount.
Harry couldn't hear the two men, and he likely wouldn't understand what they were saying, especially if they spoke in that other language that sounded so much like German but wasn't. He decided to leave and enjoy the party as much as he could without being forced into another dance.
Some things weren't need-to-know.
...
Roy Mustang had been absolutely shocked when he'd received the latest letter/report from Juna. He'd had to read it and re-read it so many times that the words were trapped in his brain, repeating on an endless loop.
Colonel Mustang,
The last few weeks have been rather hectic, and I can't say I'm surprised. Every professor and student was excited for the first task of the tournament. Let me start, before I go into detail, with my own personal opinion on this task, as I have recently witnessed it with the rest of the school. Letting school-age children face a mother dragon for the sake of entertainment is a little much for my tastes, and I am starting to understand why this death trap of a tournament was banned in the first place! Every book on dragons that I have read in the school library mentions that dragons are some of the most dangerous beasts in the magical world, and that nesting, mother dragons, which the champions had to get around to "retrieve a golden egg", are considered to be the most dangerous of them all as their protective instincts are dialed up to eleven. Did I mention that this tournament had been originally banned because of a too high death toll?
A healthy dose of common sense would be nice from these people, but I will admit that some of the methods the four champions used were interesting. Never thought I'd say this, but magic is rather interesting, even if it makes no sense in terms of equivalent exchange. Despite my previous doubts about this job, I will admit things around here are rather fascinating, but I'm not going to go too far into detail because I have something of importance to tell you before I get too far off track. All I ask is that you refrain from barging in and demanding an explanation because I'd like to avoid any confrontations that would attract negative media attention, and I'm fairly certain a reporter is sneaking around somehow in this school if the current articles in the magical newspaper are anything to go by. Let me just say before I make the big reveal that this shocked me to the core.
I need to tell you that Hughes is alive. Since the Yule Ball is coming up in December, and all staff are required to attend, he and I will both be present at this event. A representative of Amestris, as Dumbledore mentioned, will be coming here. You are that representative, correct? He, meaning Dumbledore, didn't give a name, but you are the only other Amestrian present in this country, so I deduced that you would be the one to come. I wanted to tell you about Hughes because I believed you would need to hear this from someone trustworthy in order to avoid any scandal-worthy confrontation.
Getting to more official matters, the students are progressing relatively quickly considering how little time I've had to teach them. Recalling my own experiences, and comparing them to the students here, I'm not sure whether I'm pushing them or coddling them. As there are rules against me dumping all the students on a deserted island for a month, I know they don't have to suffer as much physically, but the large amount of information I'm trying to stuff into their heads within a year is bound to be difficult to process without the years of prior knowledge that the other alchemists I know have. Chemistry, as I mentioned before, isn't even a topic here at this school, and neither is mathematics, the closest thing to either of these is Potions and Arithmacy respectively. I can say that getting these students to an acceptable level to begin basic transmutations is difficult, but should things go as they currently are going, I believe some students may be able to start with these transmutations as early as the end of winter break.
Amazing what one can do when they put their mind to it. Too bad you seem to struggle with this if what Hawkeye says about your growing paperwork pile is true. Of course, I'm sure there's an understandable explanation for you shirking your duties, again, and I'd be glad to listen to your excuses -if only before amusement- but might I recommend not pissing off Hawkeye? Obey the person who can probably castrate you with a gun, please; it will save you much pain and discomfort.
My regards,
Lt. Colonel Juna Elric
The Alloy Eye Alchemist
There was a simple code in the writing, easy to decipher. Every first letter of a sentence: "Tell Ed and Al I say hi. Gracia, too."*
He'd done just that, calling Ed short in the process, because why not? Pissing him off was fun. He also payed Gracia and Elicia a personal visit as they needed to see the letter, too.
The woman had burst into tears of joy when she read the third paragraph, and when Elicia asked why her mommy was crying, Gracia explained that they might be able to see Daddy soon. The child had screamed in joy and pestered Mustang until he confirmed this, and laughed joyfully when he did.
Now, here he was, standing beside the same man he'd thought was dead a few months back, a drink in his hand, staring at the sky with him like they used to during Ishval.
"It's a nice night out." he began when it became obvious the other man wasn't going to say anything.
Hughes's head snapped to the side. Shocked, hazel eyes met his own pair of charcoal orbs. They stayed like that for a while. Mustang made sure to keep his face relaxed and blank, preventing the internal emotional turmoil from showing in his expression.
Hughes finally got his bearings back, and he took another few moments to breathe and collect himself. Both turned their gaze back to the sky.
"Yeah..." the living dead-man said quietly.
"How're you alive." Mustang couldn't help but ask.
"Dumbledore found me. He brought me back here and when I woke up, he offered me a teaching position for the year and let me stay here during my recovery. I'm still nowhere near as strong as i was. I can barely lift twenty kilos, now. It's an improvement, though. When Juna first saw me, I was still on crutches and could barely lift a small box full of pencils. My muscles had atrophied quite a bit."
"You definitely look better now than what you described." the Colonel eyed the man beside him. Hughes nods in agreement.
"I definitely won't miss the crutches. They were a pain to maneuver around in. Juna often had to help me down the stairs, which was pretty embarrassing, but the students and staff were quite understanding."
He continued to ramble a bit as Mustang observed him. The man really did seem out of sorts, as Juna mentioned before he came to speak with Hughes. He had this faraway look in his eye, like he wasn't completely here. He hadn't even mentioned Gracia and Elicia in this entire conversation, when he'd normally take every chance he could to do so.
At some point in Mustang's observations, Hughes had gone silent. They stood, watching the sky together like old times.
"You know..." Mustang began, planning his words, "I thought you were going to ask me about Gracia and Elicia."
The blunt approach it is.
Hughes froze.
Mustang plowed on calmly, "They know you're alive. I showed them Juna's last letter. She included your status, mentioning that she wanted to avoid me 'causing a scandal'," he made finger quotes before adding jokingly, "whatever she means about that."
The man beside him gave a sort of distracted huff of laughter that showed the Colonel's attempt at humor, while not completely successful, was acknowledged.
That's a start.
"Elicia is very excited to see you again, and Gracia has her hands full with that little bundle of energy. I'm actually surprised you haven't sent a letter yourself."
There it is. Hughes face went carefully blank. His gaze was faraway again. Mustang waited patiently for a response this time.
"Yeah..." Hughes responded distractedly, "So am I."
The two men stood in silence for a bit before Mustang turned to lean back on the railing. His gaze caught Juna's and she gestured to the right with her head. Mustang followed the gesture, and smiled.
"Hey, Hughes. Someone would like to see you."
The other man perked up slightly and turned around, "Oh? Who would need to do that no-" hazel eyes widened in shock and his voice went silent. He seemed to be trying to form words, but his vocal chords weren't ready to function.
Standing in front of him, looking lovely in a pastel-purple evening dress, a pink shawl over her shoulders, was Gracia Hughes. She was staring at Hughes as if her mind had finally comprehended that he was, in fact, alive, and that the letter had not been a trick.
"... Maes..." she whispered out, but the single word traveled the length of the pathway with unnatural ease, and the man heard her perfectly.
A movement near her leg brought attention to the young child clinging to the woman's skirt, dressed in a cute, frilly, pink dress that matched her pigtails' ribbons.
"... Gracia... Elicia..." Hughes murmured.
"Daddy..." Elicia responded. Looking like she couldn't believe her eyes, before comprehension formed in her young gaze and a wide grin full of innocence and joy lit up her face, and she ran towards the man, "Daddy!"
It was pure instinct that allowed Hughes to crouch down and catch her in a firm hug. Hughes's face was was still one of shock.
Mustang could see when the shock changed to hope, to realization, to acceptance, to a tearful joy, and the other man readjusted himself to give his daughter a proper hug.
A small but bright smile had lit his face and tears streamed down his face, "Elicia... Daddy's here. Daddy loves you and missed you so much."
Mustang couldn't help the smile that climbed onto his face as he watched the touching scene, only made more emotional by the slow-dance music playing in the ballroom. He noticed a flash of gold hair in his peripheral vision and turned his attention to his fellow alchemist. She was also watching the scene with a small, fond smile, a rarity for someone as stoic as she. Hughes had now stood to embrace Gracia with Elicia now clinging to both of their legs with a wide smile.
"A touching moment, isn't it." Mustang commented. Juna nodded.
Hughes caught the two alchemists watching the reunion and gained a look of disapproval.
"What are you two standing around there for?" he demanded, causing the Flame and Alloy Eye Alchemists to straighten sheepishly, like they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"Um..." Juna began eloquently, not sure what to say.
"Get over here, you two! You guys are as much a part of the family as we are!" the glasses-wearing man pulled the two of them into the hug without letting them respond.
"OOF!"
Unfortunately, he'd pulled too hard and now the whole group of five was now in a giant doggy pile in the courtyard.
Mustang and Juna directed indignant pouts in the man's direction before the whole group started to laugh. They had missed the shenanigans that came with their Maes Hughes.
And if Juna swore the Weasley twins, who had witnessed the whole reunion, to secrecy regarding her smiling and laughing, nobody had to know.
And that's that! The end of chapter 6! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, leave a like and review. Constructive criticism is appreciated. This chapter was evading me terribly, for some reason, especially the ending, and I find that the thing went on for much longer than I expected. I did include two major events, though, so there was bound to be a lot to cover.
Elicia and Gracia have made an appearance! Yay, reunions!
*I did actually put that code into the letter. The first letter of every sentence gives another letter of the coded message. You can check, if you want. I got the idea for this both from reading other Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction and from the murder mystery boxes my family have been doing together during quarantine. In these boxes, you find, among other things, a lot of coded letters that provide evidence to help identify the killer. I thought I'd give a shot at writing a coded letter of my own.
Please stay safe and healthy, everyone! Wash your hands, eat healthy food, drink plenty of water, get some exercise in, etc.