Woohoo! Trisha's officially in the world of Harry Potter! But first, a confession: from here on out chapters will be posted a little more slowly - my spring break is almost over and I've gotten almost nothing accomplished in the way of research and studying for school; also, I have the entire ending panned out already - but not very much for the middle. See, I find the characters and settings of HP to be overly complex; if it wasn't for book 6, my job would be a lot easier; except I don't want to disregard book 6 - therefore making my job one heck of a lot harder. Hence, I've decided to cheat a little - some things will be accomplished in the story becuase others will have done them, outside of the circle of four (Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Trisha); this is mostly becuase I've beenfairly fresh out of ideas as far as what happens in HP since book 6 - quite frankly, I have no idea how JK is going to pull this one off. But my ending is good - have no fear! Everything up to that point may not be as detailed, though. Also, all of the HP characters are going to be fairly OOC - I find Harry's angstiness extremely annoying (I almost walked away a quarter of the way through book 6), but I think I have Hermione's little attitude down pretty well. And Ron - well, he's just Ron. So please continue to read, review, and tell your friends! Thanks a bunch! Enjoy!
I do not own FMA - but I do have the official FMA calendar, which totally kicks ass! And Roy (drool...)is on the September picture - my b-day month! Eeeek! ...
Chapter 15: "Hogwarts"
There was a wooshing noise, and then "Pop!" the group of four arrived out of nowhere on the corner of a small, dimly lit street in the middle of the night. Trees moaned as a breeze passed through their branches. Trisha shivered – fall was obviously on its way in this world – she couldn't quite remember though – was it spring when she left Amestris? Summer? Either way it was a perfectly normal weather for the nation – sunny and just a little bit warm – but hardly ever warm enough to not need a jacket. 'My jacket,' she thought, looking down at the clothes she was wearing. Her newly issued uniform jacket was torn and bloodied. She sighed. 'Well,' she thought, looking at the bundle in her arms, 'at least I still have my civilian clothes…'
"Come on," Harry said to her urgently, pulling her forward and out of her quiet thoughts.
The small group ran down the dark streets of Hogsmeade, heading towards the large castle that loomed on top of a rather large hill. Trisha felt tired just looking at it – she had already used up so much energy already… she was fading fast. But the strong pull on her jacket sleeve and the looks on the faces of the three people she had just met in the forest told her that now was no time to be weak – Trisha didn't have a choice – she had to run.
…
"BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!"
The knocks on the large wooden doors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry echoed throughout the Great Hall, several sleepy faces poking heads out of doors, wondering, 'What in the world could be going on at this hour?' as the shouts of prefects ushered them back into their dorms.
A very irritably, very pale, and very tired-looking Professor McGonagall hurried to the doors, her wand out and ready. She opened the doors slightly, gasped, and then through them open all the way. Several people, previously returning to bed, poked their heads back out as others joined them and the prefects gaped. McGonagall called out to several professors nearby, urgently asking them for help. By now half of the inhabitants of the castle had collected themselves on the steps and landings, looking down at the sea of professors in the entrance hall, swarming around whoever had just arrived.
"Clear the way! Clear the way! Everyone get back into your rooms! NOW!" a Hufflepuff prefect shouted, going up the stairs and ushering everyone back into their rooms. Once the halls were empty and the silence rang out once again, the small knot of teachers in the entrance hall all began to talk at once.
"Where have you three been?"
"Who is that?"
"Is she hurt? There's blood everywhere!"
"How did you manage to get here?"
"Why weren't you here at the beginning of the term?"
"Do you have any idea how worried I've been?"
This last question, posed by none other than McGonagall, came flying at the group of teenagers with seething fury, silencing the rest of the teachers.
"Poppy!" she barked.
"Yes, ma'am?" The plump little lady asked as she stepped forward.
"Take this girl up to the infirmary – you two help her," she instructed the nurse and two other teachers.
"And now you three – you're coming with me!"
Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked behind McGonagall, heads down as they avoided the stares of the other teachers. As soon as they had climbed the stairs and turned the corner, the entrance hall was filled with chatter once more.
…
"Sit." McGonagall commanded, gesturing to the chairs that were in front of her desk – what used to be Albus Dumbledore's desk.
The three sat down in her office, Harry, for the most part, slightly angry and sad about having to sit in that office – especially since he knew that the bearded wizard he had come to respect wouldn't be there also.
"Where have you three been?" McGonagall asked worriedly.
"We already sent you an owl – we're not students anymore." Harry told her blankly, arms crossed, a scowl coming over his face. He didn't even feel angry, but for whatever reason he felt that he had to make it appear that way.
McGonagall sighed. "I know that," she said, "but why are you here now? And who is that girl?"
"Her name is Trisha Elric," Harry told her bluntly.
"Professor – " Hermione cut in, quickly looking up.
"Yes, Hermione?" McGonagall asked quietly.
"I don't – I don't think we can trust her!" Hermione said rather quickly.
"Hermione!" both boys exclaimed, somewhat surprised.
"She claims that she's come from the other side of a 'gate' – like the barrier between our world in the next that I've read about – but what's more, she says she's an alchemist! She also said that she doesn't even know what magic is!" Hermione said, excitement mingling with concern.
"A 'gate?'" McGonagall asked, confused.
"Yes – " Harry said hurriedly, "But never mind that, she fought against the Death Eaters!"
"Death Eaters? How?" McGonagall asked, trying to keep up with the frantic teenagers' explanations.
"With alchemy, supposedly!" Hermione cried, trying to make her point by waving her arms in the air.
"Well, Miss Granger," McGonagall began tersely, "alchemy is not a dead science, you know. After all, the late Professor Dumbledore – "
"Yeah, we know." Harry cut off rudely.
"As I was saying," the professor began again, "alchemy is not entirely a dead science. However, since it relies heavily on energy from an outside source – "
"An outside source?" Ron asked, it apparently now being his turn to be confused.
"Yes, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said tiredly, "While magic is used by channeling energy from the witch or wizard through their wand, alchemy is powered by energy from the world around the user, that energy being channeled through the transmutation circles that alchemists use."
"Oh," Ron said, "Er… I think…"
Hermione sighed, then turned and looked straight at her former Transfiguration teacher. "I know that already, but it doesn't explain how she could use it to stop the Death Eaters – to create and do what she would have needed to would require time to draw those circles – time I'm sure she didn't have!" Hermione continued hysterically.
"Yes, it is rather peculiar, isn't it?" McGonagall said as she leaned back in the chair, thinking. "I suppose," she said, peering over her glasses at the three, "that we'll just have to ask her about it."
…
Several minutes later, the trio, led by McGonagall, walked through the castle up to the infirmary.
"So," McGonagall asked, "how is your search for the horcruxes going?"
"Fairly well, I suppose – we just got an owl from Lupin the other day saying that the Order has been able to track down and locate many of them already, once they knew what to look for," Harry told her. It was the first civil thing he had said to the current headmaster since he had entered the castle almost an hour earlier.
"Well, that's good to hear – I'm afraid I haven't been able to do much for the Order since term started… I don't know how Albus did it…" she trailed off. "Anyway," she continued, "how many more do you think are left?"
"I don't know," Harry said truthfully. "I'm not having as many dreams lately – not from the occlumency," Harry said quickly, noting the look on Hermione's face, "but because I think that he's getting weaker…"
"That would make sense," Hermione chipped in, "after all, these horcruxes are acting as his souls – he's probably saving his strength in hopes of being able to face off against you, Harry."
"Yeah – you have a point there, Hermione," Ron said quietly.
McGonagall said nothing as she lead the now-silent group up the stairs, stopping in front of the infirmary door. She opened it, and stuck her head in. "Poppy – is she up? Good – we'd like to speak with her, please… Yes, would you mind? Thank you." McGonagall swung the door open the rest of the way, ushering the three inside while Madame Pomfrey obligingly locked herself in her office, giving the group some privacy.
But the three young wizards each stopped in their tracks at the sight that was in front of them.
"Bloody hell!" Ron cried out, pointing at the figure in the bed, "What happened to you?"
…
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Professor McGonagall had all seated themselves around the bandaged young alchemist. What had perturbed them so much was the fact that she now had brown hair and blue eyes.
"How in the world…?" Hermione asked faintly.
Trisha stared, dull-eyed, at the tattered and blood-stained blue uniform jacket draped over the bar at the foot of her bed. She then silently traced with her eyes the shape of the black flamel on her blue, knee-legth coat – the one she had brought with her from home… Home… it sounded like such a foreign word to her now. She sighed inwardly. She would have to go back to wearing her other "uniform" – the black pants, black shirt, white gloves, and long blue coat – the signature outfit or her father, modified to suit her. She felt somewhat childish mimicking him like that, but it also made her feel more… secure… less alone, somehow…
"Trisha!" Harry said sharply. Concern and worry showed evident on his face – Trisha blinked a few times. She hadn't been aware of how long she had sat there, daydreaming…
"I'm sorry," she sighed, holding a bandaged left hand up to her forehead. "I was just… thinking…"
"Well, young lady, you did give us quite a scare, being hauled into the castle like that – so if you don't mind I believe we are entitled to some answers." McGonagall said curtly but not un-kindly.
"Oh!" Trisha said, "Of course! You're – McGonagall, aren't you? At least I believe that's what the nurse called you…"
"Yes, dear, I am. Now, if we could ask you a few things – "
"How did you get here?"
"Why's your hair not silver anymore?"
"How did you stop the Death Eaters?"
"How many of them were there?"
"Was Voldermort there?"
"How do you use alchemy?"
"Where'd you get that wicked arm?" Ron said, staring in enchanted curiosity at the gleaming metal hand resting in Trisha's lap.
Trisha said nothing, taken aback and highly bemused by this sudden outflow of questions. 'I had no idea two people could say so much at once,' she thought, baffled.
"Well," Trisha sighed again, scratching at her head with her metal hand in an awkward, embarrassed sort of way, "that's a pretty long list of questions, but then again – it is a pretty long story."
…
Wow! Ok, so that was a really mean cliff-hanger on my part - totally unexpected, right? Well, there's a lot more I wanted to say, and this chapter is inhumanly long already! (Give me a break - it's almost 1 in the morning where I live and I'm still not feeling well...) But everything I said I would explain in this chapter? Yeah, next chapter... sorry!... Please review! Thanks to nightmare rose for being my bud! Haha! I'm so bored right now... your messages are keeping what's keeping me awake! Haha:)