True to his word, as Edward exited his bedroom early in the morning, tying (not braiding!) his hair to its usual position, a stack of leather bound books lay on his desk. The books had no titles or inscriptions on them at all and were either black or red, leading Edward to believe that Flamel was a man with excellent taste.
A short flip through the top book confirmed that this was the alchemy Edward was familiar with, coded and containing multiple Amestrian terms. Ed felt positively giddy, and continued to do so as he brought the entire stack of books back into him room, haphazardly leaving them all over the floor.
Two sets of papers on his desks started to dampen his mood, though. One was a stack of rules and regulation Hogwarts' teachers had to adhere to. Edward flipped quickly through them, not bothering to read any of them thoroughly, looking for anything important this thing might contain. The final few pages had rough directions to all the important sections of Hogwarts, and the times that breakfast, lunch and dinner were served in the Great Hall. The other piece was just a list of names. He saw a few familiar names on them, and a lot of unfamiliar ones.
Ed glanced at the clock. Breakfast had just started. Grabbing a random book by Flamel, he made sure his automail was well hidden underneath his coat before he set off for breakfast.
He remembered where the path split to Dumbledore's office and to his classroom coming from the Great Hall, and he found himself at the hall with only minor incidents involving almost walking into oblivion when the staircases moved, cursing his mouth off and then subsequently swearing words at the living paintings which he was certain would be against teacher regulation.
He noticed Grubbly-Plank already at the table, conversing with another teacher. The students who had bothered to wake up this early to have breakfast stole sideways glances and took part in excited whisperings with their friends as Ed took his seat at the teacher's table.
As he forked copious amounts of food onto his plate, he took out Flamel's notebook and started his puzzle solving. The world seemed to fade out as Ed spent all his focus on the notebook, decoding Flamel's writing while absentmindedly stuffing nutrients into his mouth.
This specific notebook spoke about Flamel's theory of multiple worlds. Well, not so much a 'theory' as the alchemist's understanding of how something like that could exist.
The notes said that with every decision made in a world, an entirely new world is created, no matter the choice, whether big or small. This meant that, potentially, millions of worlds could exist, invisible to everyone except the ones living on their specific world.
Ed paused. This meant that there was a world where he and Al didn't try to bring their mother back. He shook his head, derailing that train of thought. Nope, he wasn't going there.
Flamel also theorized that the worlds created from the smallest of decisions were closer to the original world than the worlds created from the world-moving ones. Even with his genius level intellect, this baffled Ed the first time he read it. It then goes on to say something about barriers keeping all the worlds apart, and yet everything exists in the same place at the same time.
Before Ed could make heads or tails of it, a sharp 'clink' brought him out of his trance. He looked up and was met with a completely empty hall, apart from him. All the food had disappeared without him noticing, and his fork was in contact with a perfectly clean plate.
He returned to his classroom, peeking into others occasionally as he passed by. Ed noticed one class, the one that the pink monstrosity Umbridge was teaching, looked like they were in constant agony. He ducked away when Umbridge glanced at his direction.
Ed finally sat down at the desk after getting into a shouting match with the paintings that insulted him the first time round. Glancing up at the clock, he was glad to see that he had just over five hours to himself before his class started. Grabbing a quill someone had left for him in a drawer, a bottle of ink and some spare paper, he brought out both his and Flamel's notebooks, and started to work on understanding his theory.
After going through multiple formulas and interpretations, Ed jotted down his understanding of the theory in his notebook. Each of the different words were separated by walls, all around them at once, yet invisible to the naked eye. The smaller the differences between the worlds, the thinner the walls between them. If the worlds were wildly different, the walls would be much thicker as a result. Ed scratched his head in frustration, unsatisfied with his analogy, but unable to find a better way to put it.
Further deciphering Flamel's notes confirmed Ed's simplistic theory. It talked about how the barriers could be broken, but it required a tremendous amount of energy, and the breach in the dimensions would close up almost instantly, making it a one way trip, and to breach the barrier from the other side would require a different amount of energy, making controlled leaps throughout worlds, though theoretically possible, physically improbable.
But that's not all. Each of the worlds has a specific professor that only can only be found in a single Professor that does not-
"Professor!" Hemione snapped. Ed looked up, about to snap at whoever dared disturbed his research, when he saw his class was full of teens, sitting at their desks, whispering to one another. Five-past-three, the clock read.
"Uh, right," Ed acknowledged the girl. He noted that all the teens that lived with him at the house were here, along with that Malfoy kid, though without his lackeys. Ed rummaged for the box of chalk he'd seen earlier and moved the blackboard to the front of the class. He quickly sized up the room. Ginny and Luna seemed like the youngest students in the class, which means that everyone was at least a forth-year student. He stood in front, hands crossed, chest puffed, trying to look as threatening as possible.
"What's up, you runts." A few of the older kids snickered, but a glare from Edward shut them up immediately. Fred and George remained silent. "You probably know me as 'the guy who did that really awesome thing with the stone at dinner' or, more simply, as 'Professor Elric'.
"Now, some of you may be here because you want to do cool shit. Some of you maybe just want to learn what all that was all about. Some," his gaze lingered maliciously on Malfoy, "may have come here just to see if I'm actually a teacher."
Ed tossed around a piece of chalk. "Well, no matter what you came here for, fact is you're here now. Willing to learn. And for those of you who think this is just a trial run, and you can quit anytime, you're sorely mistaken. Alchemy is not something you can half-ass. If anyone has doubts, they can leave now, or else you will see this through to the bitter end." Nobody got up. Seemed like they'd thought the risk of taking an extra class through already.
He smiled. "Seems like all of you are more determined than I gave you credit for." Ed snapped of a small bit of chalk. Students flinched, although Harry and the rest seemed to already be expecting something like this. "I will not be like any teacher you've had. Alchemy is not something you can pick up a book, read, then practice it, getting a slap on the wrist or detention if you get it wrong. It takes hard work, diligence and the ability to follow instructions to the letter. If you're missing any of that, well, I'm sure I can provide some..." Ed paused, flicking the small piece of chalk with his hand. Eyes were all locked on the chalk as it shot across the room, slamming into the door that was left slightly opened. The door slammed shut as the chalk disintegrated with a small, violent puff of smoke. "Motivation," he finished, an evil grin on his face.
"Is that a threat?" Malfoy asked aggressively, standing up.
Ed snapped the rest of the chalk into half. "You wanna find out?" Ed asked, the smile remaining on his face. "Please say yes." Malfoy sat down reluctantly, seeing no one that shared his sentiment.
"Right, now that pleasantries are out of the way, let's start for real." Ed scrawled two words on the board with a new piece of chalk. "Equivalent Exchange is the heart of alchemy. It is the fundamental law that everyone must live by, and those who use study and use alchemy must abide by it, with zero exceptions."
A girl raised her hand. "What's that?"
Ed looked disappointed. He didn't expect anyone here to know about it, but he hoped otherwise. "Take a guess..." he trailed off, hand extended towards her.
"Padma Patil," she told him. Judging by the blue in her uniform, Ed assumed she was in Ravenclaw. Whatever that means. She thought about it for a moment. "Does it mean to get something you have to give something similar in return?"
"Congratulations," Ed said, clapping sarcastically, "I see you have the ability to read and understand words." Some students tried to cover up their giggles as Padma looked offended. "I didn't see any of you come up with anything," Ed glared at the laughing students. They promptly shut up. "That was a close guess. Nice try," he sincerely told Padma, which made her slightly happier.
"However, 'close' means nothing in alchemy. In fact, it may even be worse than not trying at all." Ed put down his chalk, dusting his gloves off. "Equivalent Exchange means this: In order to obtain or create something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed." His students stared at him, some blankly, with the exception of Harry, who had been instructed very briefly on the topic. "I expect each and every one of you to be able to recite this exactly, from heart, without missing a beat." They all scrambled to jot down what he said.
The girl sitting beside Draco raised her hand. "What if you break that rule?"
Ed stared at the girl. "What's your name?"
"Pansy Parkinson."
"Well, Parkinson, you'd suffer from what's known as a rebound. See, alchemy is just like an equation." He wrote "5 = 5' on the blackboard, which he assumed would be simple enough for them. Judging by the looks on their faces, it was. "Both sides have to be perfectly balanced for alchemy to work." He then replaced the equation with '3 = 7'. "If you attempt too much out of too little, as in, you make a mistake in the equation, the energies on both sides go out of control, doing everything they can to stabilize themselves." He drew lines across the equation, back and forth until the unbalanced equation was covered up, then wrote '5 = 5' again.
"You might end up with unwanted chunks of metal sticking out of your body, extra bones that grew out of control, or create an explosion that paints the room with your blood and guts." Looking at the absolutely horrified looks on everyone's faces at his vivid descriptions, he grinned. "The possibilities are endless," he threw his hands upward, as if describing a wonderful subject matter. "So if you don't want any of that to happen, you will abide by the rule of Equivalent Exchange, is that clear?" They all nodded.
Sharp tones rang throughout his class similar to noises a bell would make. The students started packing up. "Hold on!" Ed called out, and everyone stopped immediately, fearful of chalk attacks. He wrote a phrase his own teacher drilled into his and Al's heads: One is All, All is One. "Solve this, by the same time next week, as a bonus challenge." Everyone looked at the phrase, puzzled. "First guess is free, but failing to guess subsequent times means detention. Those who get it right will get something special. You can work together to figure it out, but getting it wrong as a group means instant detention for all of you, whether or not it is your first guess. Got it?" Nods all around again. "Great, now scram."
Ed wiped down the blackboard as they left, pausing at the 'One is All' line. He smiled nostalgically, remembering the month he and Al had to figure out that riddle, all while trying to survive on a deserted island. Seeing as how these kids didn't have to hunt for food, build their own shelters and hide from a large monster pretending to try and kill them, Ed thought that a week was more than enough for them.
He glanced at the white mark on the door. "I'm going to need more chalk."
Ed sighed in relief as he leaned backwards in his chair. Since his lesson ended, he had been at his desk, going through the rest of Flamel's first notebook with no distractions. A quick peek at the clock told him that dinner was out of the question; it was almost midnight. Ed made a cursory review of what he had learned from the rest of the book.
To break a barrier between worlds, raw energy was not enough. The energy has to be directed, focused and channeled, with the easiest way being a transmutation circle. Early experiments with small object by the alchemist concluded that even an advanced, complex and perfectly balanced circle had no effect. Something more was needed.
And his first set of notes ended there. This was nothing to the Fullmetal Alchemist, though it may have been because Flamel didn't have anything important to hide. He closed the notebook and left it on the desk.
Ed felt his joints creak and pop as he stood up after hours of disuse. The pale moonlight shone through the classroom windows, emphasizing the cloudless, dark sky. Seems like a great night to take a walk.
As he strolled through the halls of Hogwarts, no particular destination in mind, he wondered if Flamel ever accepted all this magic nonsense. The living paintings, the moving staircases, the wand waving. Everything went against the basic instinct of alchemists, of the world that Edward knew, and he had trouble accepting how people took it as if it was absolutely normal. He understood how, but couldn't comprehend it.
Everyone, paintings included, were asleep, so Ed moved through the castle with no altercations. Eventually, he walked out into the courtyard at the entrance of the school. The stars blinked down at him as normal. He gazed back at them. No matter where he was, the stars would never change.
Ed took a deep breath. He thought about Flamel again, whether he had anyone he cared about or loved in Amestris. Had any unfinished business. Commitments. He'd obviously spent a ton of time trying to get home, judging by the quality and quantity of his notes, but Ed couldn't help but wonder if any of those just started to fade away.
There were nice people here, willing to treat Ed like family despite being complete strangers, and it must have been the same for Flamel. Willing to help him adjust to this new world, new people. Help ease the pain when he couldn't get home.
No, not when. If. Ed still had a long way to go. And even if Flamel didn't figure out how to get home, he would. He had peered inside the Gate, damn it, and it would be a cold day in hell before the Fullmetal Alchemist let this get the better of him.
Ed came back out of his mind and noticed he had paced the courtyard multiple times. He trembled in anger and frustration. There he went, losing himself in thoughts that lead nowhere.
He laid down on a small stone bench, sighing, staring up into the sky. He needed Al. Al would always be the voice of reason to his outbursts, his counter-spiral to Ed's own, the other side to his equation.
He loathed to admit it, but his desperation to return home could be more selfish than he wants it to be. He had no right to be selfish, not after all he's done.
Al. I'm sorry.
Deacon rubbed the stump where his hand used to be. He tried to stop whatever that blond brat was trying to do, but whatever he did, or went, took his hand with him.
They didn't know about that magic circle in their hideout, and Xander was pretty pissed about it. He became unpredictable, cursing whoever he felt like at the time, and those who got on his nerves, even a little, were taken away for extra punishment. And judging by the screams echoing through the halls, it was more than just some workplace counseling.
That's why he opted for guard duty most nights. No way was he going to be down there with that unhinged jackass. After that incident, he tripled the number of guards in the forest, ordering them to kill anyone that got too close. Everyone silently agreed to just double the protective charms around, as a death would make the East City military even more suspicious than they already are. No one would tell this to Xander, though.
Deacon went around a thicket of bushes; Mother Nature was calling. Before he had time to do anything, a large force slammed against him and he was sent tumbling, smashing his head against the trunk of a tree. His vision went blurry, and he felt liquid trickling down the side of his head. What the hell was that, a train?
Two massive hands grabbed him by the shoulder and roughly pushed him against the tree. He felt his wand slip out of his pocket, and a faint rustling of leaves where it landed.
Twin red orbs stared directly into his own eyes. They seemed to burn with the rage-filled flames of hell. Then, it spoke four words that would be burned into Deacon's memory forever.
"Where is my brother?"
Author's afterword: Song Ed sang in Chapter 5 was 'Brothers' sung by Vic Mignogna. I'm too much of a copypaster to come up with my own song. :)
Also, thanks to all who reviewed! All of your excitement to read turns into my excitement to write, no pressure on you to leave a review, though. Do it if you want to, don't if you don't. On break from school for now, though that's countered by my need to binge watch Psych. So, I'll see you when I see you. Buh-bye!
