~Chapter Seven: Transfigurations and Transmutations~
A/N: I definitely named this chapter according to the fact that I got those two ridiculously long words mixed up SOOOO many times whilst writing this chappy. -_-" Ah well, it was enjoyable to write—especially w/ all of the McGonagall quotes! I LOVE McGonagall! :D
BTWs, this chap's quite a bit longer (and that's AFTER cutting out quite a bit of excessive detailing!), but I imagine most of the rest of the chapters will be about this length, too. Just warning ya'll.
Enjoy, all! ^_^
all things Harry Potter (c) J.K. Rowling
all things Fullmetal Alchemist (c) Hiromu Arakawa
The Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry consisted of a large, white room filled with numerous sick beds and shelves of potions and medicinal things. It also contained an office for the caretaker of the sick and injured, Madam Pomfrey, who was both a strict and caring woman dressed in white and red robes with a long, nurse's headpiece. Edward entered the Hospital Wing early the morning of his first day of classes, uneasily clutching at his knapsack hanging off his shoulder with his gloved automail hand. Did Dumbledore brief the witch beforehand about tending to Ed's automail recovery? Or was Edward going to have to explain everything to her and have to deal with yet another shocked, disgusted expression towards himself?
The witch looked up from the medicine cabinet she was organizing as Edward approached her, his black and burgundy robes billowing behind him as he walked. The two of them were the only ones in the room, the place empty due to it being barely the first day of school.
"Morning," the witch greeted Ed, smiling thinly. "And what can I do for you, Mister…?"
He cleared his throat before answering:
"Edward Elric, ma'am. Professor Dumbledore sent me to check in with you."
"Oh!" the witch said with recognition of the name. "You are the one with the automail prosthetics?"
"Y-yes," Ed stammered.
"Yes, Dumbledore told me you'd come to see me today; come, into my office, now; it would do you no good if someone were to come in and see you with your shirt and pants off…"
Edward raised his eyebrow as he followed the witch into her little office as sat down in a large leather chair in the corner. Madam Pomfrey closed the heavy curtains on her little viewing window tight as she ordered the boy to take off his pants. Ed obeyed while she extracted a pair of spectacles from within her desk and sat upon a short stool in front of the young wizard.
"When was your surgery, Edward?" she inquired while examining his leg.
"In March of this year."
Madam Pomfrey tutted:
"You're barking mad. You know that, right?"
Ed looked up, startled at the little woman's harsh language.
"How so?" he asked, careful to keep his tone respectful, for this woman was beginning to seem like someone not to be reckoned with. Madam Pomfrey's frown deepened:
"It takes a grown man approximately two years to fully recover from automail installation, plus another six to eight months on top of that recovery for rehabilitation. You're just a boy; even though in some ways your younger age would make you heal faster than some men, your recovery should still be well over a year long, and you shouldn't even be walking around, let alone so nonchalantly!"
Edward cowered under the witches' piercing stare:
"Sorry, m-ma'am…but I feel fine."
Her fixed gaze did not wither for another thirty seconds, and then she exhaled. She patted his leg gently:
"Well, just you be careful, now. And do not be afraid to come to me if you're feeling any sort of pain or if anything's not working right. But please try not to break anything, I don't know much about the mechanics behind automail, just the surgery."
"Right," Ed agreed. "I'll be careful, I promise. My mechanic will kill me if I break anything, anyway."
Madam Pomfrey chuckled lightly at this comment.
"Ok, well your leg checks out. Now let's see that arm of yours."
She finished her examination quickly and sent him off to breakfast with a hasty warning about lingering infections and what-not, fussing over him just like Granny Pinako did when he was back at Resembool. Ed was grateful for the lady's care and thanked her immensely for her help and secrecy. He knew that having someone who knew how to properly care for his ports and prosthetics would definitely come in handy at a school he was to live at for over half the year.
As Edward Elric returned into the vast hallways leading to his mysterious magic classes, he looked down at his schedule with a forlorn feeling. Can't they at least provide us first-timers with a map of some sort? he thought frustratingly, taking the first of many uncertain steps of the day. As he approached one of the huge wooden, rickety staircases of the castle's, however, it immediately unhooked from its platform and moved away from Ed's initial destination. Ed could do nothing but watch with widened eyes, mouth agape as his frustration grew. This is going to be a loooong day!
After sorting through his first set of twists and turns of the school day, he found the entrance to the Great Hall at last.
"Hey, Ed!" Ron greeted the blonde when he finally showed up to the breakfast table. "Where were you?"
"Hospital Wing," he said without thinking. Ron and Harry looked upon him with concern, their question as to why he went there evident, even without either of them saying anything. Ed sighed and lied:
"I woke up feeling crappy, so I went and saw her. She gave me something for my stomachache; now I'm fine."
"That's good," Harry said. "It wouldn't be fun to be sick on the first day."
"Right," said Ed. How the hell did I get so good at lying?
"Ah, here's the mail," Percy said, pointing out the sudden influx of owls soaring into the Great Hall, carrying letters and packages and all sorts of stuff from the student's family and friends at home. Ed and Harry tilted their heads up in awe at the awesome sight of all the student's and teacher's owls swooping in from above. Ed was not expecting Nova to bring him anything, but of course the little barn owl just had to make a presence at the Gryffindor table that morning. Ed couldn't help but grin at the size differences between his owl and a lot of the others; she was so tiny!
"Morning, Nova."
Nova hooted a boisterous greeting in Ed's face and pecked lightly at his gloved automail hand before helping herself to some bacon and eggs. Ed quickly swiped his hand away from her in fear, looking around him anxiously to make sure nobody was set off by the small metallic noise the owl's tiny beak made upon the steel. Thankfully, though, the odd sound could not have possibly been heard over the noise of all the students' talking in the echoing Great Hall.
"Aww!" the Hermione gushed at Nova, looking up at Ed. "Is this your little owl?"
Nova turned on her, eyes seething with anger as she promptly flew into Hermione's face and fiercely pecked the bushy-haired girl's unsuspecting nose.
"OW!" she squeaked. "Ow, why'd she do that?"
Ed, Harry and Ron couldn't help but crack up at her shocked reaction; Nova looked quite pleased with herself as she returned to Edward's breakfast plate.
"I like your owl, Ed!" Ron exclaimed in between laughs.
The blonde boy had to get his hysterical laughter under control before he was able to explain to the unamused Hermione:
"She's got a tall complex, and you said the 'L' word."
"Gee, sounds like someone else we know," a drawling voice from behind Ed and Hermione said. Ed turned to glower at the owner of the voice: Malfoy.
"What are you doing here?" the blonde growled.
"Just passing by. Couldn't help but notice the height difference between you and the other barbaric Gryffindors. Of course it came to no surprise that it was you, Elric."
Ron and Harry made it just in time to grab the hood of Ed's cloak just as he lunged at Draco.
"Call me a pipsqueak just one more time, you pallid freak! I DARE YOU-!"
"Ah-HEM."
Ed and Malfoy quickly shut up and looked nervously up at the teacher looming over them.
"Is there a problem here, boys?" McGonagall demanded of them, her voice low and dangerous in tonality.
"No, Professor," Malfoy said haughtily. "I was just headed to class."
And with that he quickly departed past the long Gryffindor table and out of the Great Hall before McGonagall could question him further. Ed gulped as McGonagall turned to him, Ron and Harry.
"…I shall see you three in class later this week, then?"
"Yes, Professor," they mumbled unison, relinquishing their held breaths when she finally left their presence. Hermione soon passed as well, pausing in front of the trio momentarily:
"It's barely the first day, and you three are already getting into fights? Pathetic."
And with an obvious snub, she left them gaping after her in disbelief.
"Can you believe the nerve of her?" Ron exclaimed to Ed and Harry.
"Come on, we'll deal with that later," Harry said, looking with worry at the quickly emptying Great Hall. "We had better get going if we don't want to be late to our first class."
"Yeah, the corridors here are ridiculous," Ed agreed. Harry frowned at him as they hastened down the hallways:
"Why are you so short-tempered anyway? You almost got us in trouble with McGonagall."
"Hey, you two didn't have to pull me away from him; the smartass deserved a fist to his face!" Ed said defensively, returning Harry's frown ten-fold. Ron nodded in agreement with Ed:
"Malfoy's a git, Harry. We found that out last night."
"That is true," Harry reluctantly agreed. "But that doesn't mean we have the right to pick fights with him. We'll get in big trouble for that."
Ron nodded in agreement with this statement, and then the two British boys gave Ed a look. Ed grimaced:
"…I still say he deserves it…"
~~*e.s.*~~
"OOOoooOOO! Are those ickle firsties I see?" Peeves the poltergeist screeched in his annoying voice. He swooped down and roughly bonked Ron, Harry and Ed each upon the head. Ed waved his fist in the air at him:
"Dammit, Peeves! Leave us the hell alone!"
Peeves grinned happily:
"Tut tut; such language, little Elric! Should tell on you, I should…"
And with one last bonk upon the short alchemist's head, he cackled up and out of sight, leaving Harry and Ron to deal with the fuming Ed.
There was a lot more to magic, as Ed quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words. Edward was always a good, studious student, and he even managed to keep up in the most boring class in the entire school, History of Magic. Herbology and Astrology came pretty easily as well; many of the astronomical symbols written into the textbooks were very similar to those found in common alchemic texts he had read about before, and memorizing strange plants and fungi didn't seem too trifling to the genius boy.
Wandwork, however, was a completely different story. Charms class was particularly troublesome to the first years that had never held a wand before in their lives. But at least most of the other students got some form of a result from their efforts. No matter how hard Ed tried, though, he could not make his stick of elm work properly.
"Don't worry about it, Ed," Ron said after a failed day of Charms class. "I couldn't do anything, either. It's only the first week, after all."
"Yeah, but at least something happened when you said the charm; I got no results whatsoever…"
It was Thursday, and the three of them had stopped at a large wooden door that they hoped held Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class, their second class of the day. To their dismay, however, the witch teaching this class was not the one they were looking for.
"Hello," the misty-eyed Professor said in an airy voice. "Are you here for Divination class?"
"No, ma'am," Harry said. "We're looking for Transfiguration…?"
The light-haired witch blinked:
"That's on the other side of the school."
The trio groaned exasperatedly as they bolted out the door.
All heads turned to the back of the room when Ed, Harry and Ron finally arrived. The trio was panting heavily, their hair and knapsacks askew, Harry's glasses slipping off of his nose. Upon a quick scan of everyone in the room, though, the boys were relieved at their luck; their teacher was nowhere to be found.
"Phew!" Ron said, shooting Harry and Ed a grin.
"Tell me about it. Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face is we were late?" Ed remarked. He looked up towards the front of the room and raised an eyebrow at a brown tabby cat sitting on the front desk. It stared piercingly at the trio for nearly thirty seconds straight before leaping off the desk and turning into an unamused Professor McGonagall. The entire class was amazed.
"That was bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed. McGonagall's expression did not waver as she approached them.
"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Maybe if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter, Mr. Elric and yourself into pocket watches, at least one of you would be on time."
"We got lost," Harry reasoned, urging nods of agreement from Ron and Ed in response.
"Then perhaps a map?" McGonagall retaliated. "I trust you don't need one to find your seats."
Not even the temperamental Edward Elric could argue with the stern look upon the Headmistress' face. They humbly took their seats and directed their full attention to McGonagall as she went back to the front of the room and began her lesson for the day.
"Welcome to Transfiguration One, first years. Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. Consider yourself warned."
She then changed her desk into a pig and back again. The entire class was very impressed and could not wait to get started—all except Edward that is. He could not stop gaping increadously at McGonagall's desk, alchemy's most basic yet extremely important law, the Law of Equivalent Exchange echoing in his cranium. How did she just blatantly disregard one of the most important laws of life like that? It didn't make any sense to him, how she could've turned something completely and utterly lifeless into a fully alive pig. He shook his head in disbelief; what kind of illogical world have I stumbled into?
"Mr. Elric! Are you paying attention?" McGonagall demanded suddenly. Ed blinked rapidly:
"Uh-huh," he said, quickly dipping his quill into its ink and hurriedly jotting down all the notes he missed while in his minor dissociative state. McGonagall lectured long and quickly, going through important information much faster than the other Hogwarts teachers did. Edward did not have much trouble keeping up, unlike his peers who were dumbly stumbling through the lesson. The students soon realized that that they were not going to be changing anything into an animal for a long time, and after taking a lot of very complicated notes, they were each given a match a started trying to turn it into a needle.
"Do not be too discouraged if it doesn't come naturally; transfiguration rarely does as it is the art of making something into what it is not. Even something as simple as this can prove to be trifling, especially for a first year."
The simple transfiguration required barely any wand movement, just a teensy little flick or so, but it was the base around the movement that tricked everyone. Finally at one point Hermione Granger was able to get her match to become somewhat silver and pointy, but that was the most anyone got, which earned Miss Granger one of McGonagall's rare smiles. Ed looked at her with envy, then glowered back down at his wand. If only he could use alchemy, then such a feat would be so easy to achieve! It's a simple transmutation; with just a clap of his hands that match would swiftly become a perfectly sharp needle. No wandwork required whatsoever…Ed looked around him, at Ron to his left who was also focused frustratingly upon his needle, and then at Harry to his right who was glancing around the room at all the other students' attempts. Nobody was watching him directly. After a deep breath, Ed slid his hands into his lap beneath the full cover of his desk and softly clapped them together; looking around him quickly to make sure no one was alerted by the noise. Everyone was still focused on their wandwork, though, so without further ado Ed placed one palm upon the desk next to his match, his automail hand wrapped around his wand to make it seem like he was using it rather than alchemy.
The result was immediate; with a dim bit of light, the match became a needle.
"…Whoa," Harry said in awe when he saw that Ed had done it. "How—what—?"
"I figured it out," Ed said, grinning successfully. McGonagall passed by the table, shooting Ed's needle a brief look of approval.
"Well done, Mr. Elric."
"What'd you do to get it like that?" Ron asked curiously. Ed paused, and then shrugged:
"I don't really know, honestly…"
Ron, as usual, fell easily for Ed's lie and continued to stare at awe at the blonde's success. Harry did not look nearly as convinced, though, which concerned Ed as he made a mental note to be more careful next time.
Soon afterwards Professor McGonagall dismissed the class, but only after assigning them a huge pile of homework, of course. The trio had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross; they knew this immediately after their first talking-to and the threat of being turned into watches. As they walked out of the classroom, however, McGonagall's voice could be heard over the chatter emitting from the sea of students in the hallway:
"Mr. Elric, may I speak to you for a moment?"
Ed turned and read the witch's unfathomable expression cautiously, then told Ron and Harry to go on ahead and he'll catch up later. They looked at each other but nonetheless obeyed their friend's orders and began to make their way to their next class without him. Edward approached McGonagall's desk, setting his knapsack down upon the floor next to her desk.
"I saw what you did, Elric."
Ed blinked, his heart immediately beginning to race as he fought to keep his expression as unreadable as McGonagall's.
"…You did not transfigure that match. You transmuted it."
Ed's eyes widened only slightly, for he was still fighting the urge to react. He swallowed the bile in his throat in an effort to keep his tone innocent:
"…I'm not sure what you're talking about, Professor."
"Don't play dumb, Mr. Elric. I know very well that you are quite intelligent."
At this remark Edward faltered at last, his expression finally revealing the nervousness he felt whilst being interrogated. McGonagall continued:
"The headmaster informed me of your alchemic knowledge and skill…and I have not been left in the dark about your past, either."
"I'm sorry," Ed muttered guiltily, looking away from his professor in shame. McGonagall was silent for a moment, and then her unfathomable expression broke slightly as the corners of her mouth lifted a bit.
"I do not wish to chastise you, Mr. Elric."
Ed looked up: "I'm not in trouble…?"
"No."
McGonagall then pulled a match out of her pocket and placed it upon the desk next to him, motioning for his to take out his wand.
"…But I know you can transfigure. Without alchemy."
Ed raised an eyebrow at her questionably.
"I couldn't make anything happen at all during class. What makes you think it'll suddenly work now?"
"Humor me."
The alchemist sighed but nonetheless obeyed her wishes and attempted for the umpteenth time to turn the match into a needle. To his great shock, this time the wand obeyed and transfigured the match into a perfectly shiny needle. He blinked, mouth agape at what he had just suddenly accomplished.
"…Wha-?"
"Transfiguration is very similar to transmutation, as I'm sure you've figured out by now. Although you can perform alchemy easily, magic does not seem as simple to learn, even though it seems practically identical in many ways to your well-practiced 'science,' as you call it. Am I right so far?"
"Yes ma'am," Ed replied, frowning slightly. "But if alchemy is supposed to be magic, then why can't I do magic like I can do alchemy?"
"Because you have created a mental block against magic, Edward Elric."
Edward blinked, considering the possibility of such a dilemma. A mental block against something he has supposedly been practicing for years now? How could such a thing be? The more he thought about it, though, something clicked; the entire time he was practicing alchemy with his teacher and Alphonse, Edward saw the practice as a science, as a study of knowledge. The theorems behind the science were so logical that Ed never had a single doubt about whether its scientific mask was a façade or not. The laws of alchemy were always understandable, the transmutations successful…most of the time. But now everything has changed; the rules behind transmutation are now being unconsciously ignored. This world of magic has gone beyond all things scientific, and has even disproven alchemy's number one law, the Law of Equivalent Exchange.
"…that would actually make sense. All this time I've seen alchemy as a science. I never would've considered the possibility of magic existing before finding out about Hogwarts…"
At that moment, something else clicked; if the rules of alchemy could be so easily ignored with magic, then perhaps magic really could restore his brother's body! In all honesty, he knew that he was just going on a hunch when deciding to go to Hogwarts, for he was still suspicious that Dumbledore was fibbing just to get him to go. But now he knew; now he was confident in the fact that such a thing was possible, that he could fix everything he had ruined before with alchemy.
"I had trouble in Charms, too," he informed McGonagall. "Which is also wandwork…"
"Yes," McGonagall said with a knowing look. "Now, about your use of alchemy in my classroom—"
"Right, won't happen again," Ed said quickly, an apologetic smile on his face as he recited the words he knew she wanted to hear: "From now on I'll work at breaking my mental block and becoming as good of a wizard as I can, Professor."
Or at least good enough to fix Al's life…
"…Take care not to use alchemy anymore at Hogwarts, Mr. Elric. At all. Not just so you can learn magic properly, but also to protect your secret. It would look awfully suspicious to everyone else at the school if dark rumors about you were being spread."
Ed gulped, realizing how unaware of the seriousness of his infraction he was.
"Right."
McGonagall nodded once in approval as he lifted his knapsack off the floor and prepared to head over to Defense Against the Dark Arts with the rest of the first-year Gryffindors.
"…I should warn you, Mr. Elric, that not every teacher at Hogwarts is aware of your secret," McGonagall spoke after him. Ed turned and stared at her, his golden eyes urging for an explanation to her ominous words. Instead, the cat-like woman turned her back to him dismissingly: "That's all."
~~*e.s.*~~
Friday was a great day in the lives of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Edward Elric; that was the day that they finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost. Ed yawned hugely as he sat down next to Harry and helped himself to some porridge.
"You ok, Ed?" Harry asked, noting the dark circles beneath the blonde's eyes.
"Yeah, just didn't get much sleep."
"How so? You finished most of your homework really early last night, mate," Ron said through a mouthful of food. Ed shrugged:
"I guess I just had too much on my mind."
This much was true; the two things that were keeping him up the most were definitely homesickness and McGonagall's mysterious warning. Try as he might, Edward could not grasp the meaning of the witch's words. Big deal that not everyone knows about him; he wasn't expecting the Headmaster to have a meeting about the Elric Brother's Story or anything like that. Why did Professor McGonagall make it out to be such an issue?
"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron.
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron.
"UGH," Ed groaned in obvious distaste. "That means we have to see that bastard Malfoy again!"
"And it gets worse; Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them—we'll be able to see if it's true."
"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry bitterly. "The fact that we're from her House sure didn't stop her from giving us a huge pile of homework."
"I finished it already if you wanna see it later tonight," Ed said, shrugging. "It wasn't that hard, after all, I'll show you what I did."
Harry and Ron gaped at him, both suddenly feeling extremely grateful for having a genius friend like him.
Potions lessons were held in one of the vast dungeons of the old castle. The climate down below was much colder than up in the main castle, and Ed found himself buttoning up his cloak in an effort to prevent his arm's port from aching in the chill. It was a creepy place, filled with pickled animals floating around in glass jars all around the walls along with many other hideous items to add to the darkness.
"You'd think this was a class on mad science or something," Ed commented, pausing to make a face at a weird, glass-eyed creature staring at him from one of the larger jars against the wall. He was caught off-guard as Malfoy purposely shoved roughly into him as he passed by, stopping only to shoot Ed a nasty smile. Ed was about to lunge angrily at the brat, but stopped himself as Professor Snape called to them impatiently to hurry up and take their seats.
Snape's monotone voice quickly began to bore Edward to tears; it was bad enough that he was already sleep-deprived. If Snape didn't hurry up and make his class more interesting, Ed was surely going to conk out.
During roll call, however, Snape paused at Harry's name, prompting snickers from Malfoy and his goons.
"Ah, yes," he said softly. "Harry Potter. Our new—celebrity."
Ed lifted his head from his desk, cocking his head slightly. The tonality of Snape's voice changed suddenly when addressing Harry. Ed could hear something underneath the words spoken, something dark and sinister, possibly? He looked up at the teacher, into his dark, black eyes. They were cold and empty and made him think of dark tunnels…
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began to address the class, his voice back to its boring self. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but the class was able to catch every word. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here,"—Ed celebrated internally at hearing this—"many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…"
And he lost Ed again; the alchemist sighed, slumping lazily in his seat. More silence followed what was left of his little speech before most of the class tuned out. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows while Hermione Granger looked absolutely desperate to prove herself to the Professor.
"Potter!" Snape said suddenly, causing the dozing Edward to jump in his seat, smacking his elbow upon the hard marble table in front of him. The class' attention immediately reverted to the clumsy boy, but their laughter was quickly stilled by a cold look from Professor Snape. Ed sat up annoyedly as the teacher looked back at Harry.
"Tell me, Potter; what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Powdered root of what to an infusion of HUH? If he bullshitting Harry or something? Ed thought, shrugging as the desperate Harry glanced first at him, then at Ron, who was unfortunately as stumped as he was. Hermione, on the other hand, looked desperate as she thrust her hand into the air.
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into an ugly sneer.
"Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything."
"Look, sir, you can't expect him to know everything on the first day," Ed pointed out reasonably. Snape's eyes bore into the boy's skull as he spoke strictly:
"That is the second time you have interrupted my class, Elric. One more time and your House is losing points."
Ed blinked; what the fuck?
"…Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione's stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry did not have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter. Ed and Ron were simultaneously glaring hatefully at the trio, however, Ed debating whether or not to risk losing points from Gryffindor in order to throw his cauldron at them.
He blinked again, realizing how bad of an idea that would be. What would his explanation be for his strength?
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
That is so damn unfair! Ed said, shaking with fury. Snape still wasn't through yet, though.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
At this Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
A few people laughed; Snape, however, was not pleased.
"Sit down!" he snapped at Hermione before bearing down upon Harry:
"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Ed, Harry and Ron just looked at each other in disbelief.
Potions did not improve at all for the trio. Soon they were all separated into pairs and set to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. The tyrannous teacher swept around in his long black cloak, criticizing left and right (except for Malfoy, who seemingly could do no wrong in Snape's eyes). Ron was paired with Ed, who had the potion finished before anyone else in the class. But, of course, his good work was not recognized because Snape was too busy praising the mediocre Slytherins.
Just then, clouds of acrid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Ed quickly hopped upon his stool to avoid the quick-approaching poison, the rest of the class soon doing the same while Neville, who had been drenched in the poison when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled liquid away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Ed stepped down from his stool as Snape ordered Seamus to take the whimpering Neville to the hospital wing. He lifted his left boot up to examine its sole, and then blanched; there was indeed a small hole on the bottom, and Ed could see the bottom of his steel toes through it. He bit his lip in concern; hopefully no one would notice—after all, it really wasn't that big of a hole, and it was on the bottom of the boot. No big deal, really.
"You—Potter—why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he was wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but then he saw Ron shaking his head in warning out of the corner of his eye. Ed, on the other hand, was not about to remain silent:
"Harry was nowhere near Neville; he didn't know what the hell he was doing wrong!" Ed yelled at Snape, who turned around sharply and glared at Ed dangerously.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
Ron kicked Ed from behind their cauldron:
"Don't push it; I've heard Snape can turn very nasty!" Ron hissed.
"How dare you, Elric—"
"Oh, I dared," Ed continued on despite Ron's warning. "You've been an unfair jerk this entire time, and you know it-!"
Snape slammed his hand down upon the table in front of Edward, the sound booming across the dead-silent dungeon classroom. Ed had officially said too much. Snape growled, his voice reverting back to the way it sounded at the beginning of class that day, when he was addressing Harry so hatefully:
"…Detention, Elric. Monday evening, seven-o'clock SHARP. How's that for unfair?"
Ed stood his ground, returning the glower full-force—though not without difficulty. The look in Snape's eyes chilled the boy to the core, for it was a look so cold and evil in nature that it could've made Satan himself cower in fear.
"Get out of my classroom," Snape finally growled at the alchemist as he turned away. Ed smirked as he picked up his knapsack and waltzed right out of the dungeon, feeling satisfied despite having earned a detention. The look on his face was so full of triumph, in fact, that not even Malfoy dared to break the silence with his usual annoying cackling.
"…As I said before, no foolishness will be tolerated in my Potions lessons. If anyone wishes to follow Mr. Elric out, now is the time to do so."
Silence.
~~*e.s.*~~
"I can't believe you just went off on Snape like that!" Harry exclaimed at Edward as the trio walked over to Hagrid's house that afternoon. Edward huffed, his antenna drooping slightly:
"Nobody else was standing up to him."
"True, and you were brilliant…but seriously, mate. Snape is not someone to mess with," Ron pointed out. "You saw how scary he was when he lost his temper."
"He didn't scare me."
Harry raised his eyebrows; Snape sure did scare him! How was Ed so tough? How was he so unhesitant against the tyrant of a Professor when all Harry could do was sit and sulk in the greasy-haired man's presence? As they approached Hagrid's small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest, Harry sighed and looked at Ed gratefully:
"…Thanks anyway."
Ed looked questionably at Harry:
"Thanks for what?"
"For sticking up for me; wish I were that brave."
Ed blinked in surprise at his choice of words, then offered Harry a small smile.
"Hey, what're friends for?"
When Harry knocked upon Hagrid's door they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang—back."
Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.
"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang!"
He finally let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound as the trio entered. Edward eyed the dog cautiously, sizing up its enormity with trepidation.
"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Edward and immediately knocked him down and started licking his ears. Though he was crushing the petite blonde with his massive weight, like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.
"Get offa him, Fang! Back, yeh mangy mutt…"
After a bit of a struggle, Hagrid finally managed to lift the hound off of Ed's back and helped the fallen alchemist up from the dusty floor of the hut.
"Don' mind Fang; he just likes people."
"Yeah, I could tell," remarked Ed as he wiped the slobber off of his face, eyeing the dog threateningly. Harry laughed, the turned to Hagrid:
"This is Ron."
"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid in response, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."
The half-giant sat down with a plate full of lumpy, raisin-filled rock cakes for the boys, obviously eager to hear about their first week of school. As the trio regaled their adventures in trying to find their classes and how their classes went along, Fang lazily rested his head upon Edward's knee and drooled all over his robes. All three of them were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git," and became even more overjoyed at his vicious commentary about the evil Mrs. Norris.
"D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her—Filch puts her up to it, I know he does."
"Heh," Edward said, shaking his head. "Nobody likes that damn cat...my brother would love her, though, knowing Al."
"He likes cats?" Ron asked amusedly. Ed nodded, grinning:
"He loves them! I remember when we were little he'd always pick up stray cats and beg mom to let him keep them. Trust me, he'll get along just fine with Filch's cat next year. Wait and see."
"Good. Maybe he can distract her so she doesn't constantly follow us around next year," Ron said. "Or even better, he could scare her away with that armor of his!"
"Armor?" Harry asked questioningly. Ron nodded as Hagrid inquired:
"Have you never seen his brother? He wears an old suit of armor aroun' alot."
"Why?" Harry asked. Ed shook his head:
"He's into that sort of thing. It's like a hobby of his, wearing that armor."
I have got to come up with a better excuse than that!
The trio then got to telling about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape hardly liked any of the students.
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid.
"You didn't see it, Hagrid," Ed said. "He wouldn't stop picking on him. He hammered him with ridiculous questions and accusations."
"See? He hates me, I know it!"
"Why should he hate you, Harry?"
Yet both Harry and Ed couldn't help thinking that Hagrid did not quite meet Harry's eyes when he said that.
"You should've seen how Ed stood up to him, Hagrid," Ron piped up. "It was bloody brilliant!"
Hagrid turned on Edward, who suddenly looked very, very guilty.
"You did what?"
"He deserved it," was all Ed said in response. He huffed, blowing at his long blonde bangs as he muttered, "and I got a detention for it, too."
"Yeh got a detention on the first week?" Hagrid said increadously. "What exactly did you bleedin' say?"
"He said-!" Ron began but was interrupted:
"Something that really shouldn't be repeated!" Ed said, glancing a warning at Ron. "Look, I lost my temper, won't happen again, I swear."
"Too bad; you're my hero for that, mate."
"Ron!" Harry said, trying hard to hide his amusement in front of the disapproving Hagrid.
"What? Snape had it coming!"
"True that," Ed said, grinning his mischievous grin. Hagrid sighed:
"Just watch yerself, Ed. Yeh can get into serious trouble here by back-sassing a teacher like that."
Ed nodded, then zoned out momentarily as Hagrid and Ron talked about some guy named Charlie—one of Ron's many family members, perhaps? Nonetheless, the blonde yawned as he finally offered the dreary Fang some attention, scratching the boarhound behind his ears. Though he had gone through an entire conversation after talking about his brother, his mind was still on their secret, on devising a plan to free Al from his metallic entrapment. I should probably write to him, soon, he thought idly.
His train of thought was broken suddenly when Harry let out a loud exclamation:
"Hagrid! That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"
There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely did not meet Harry's eyes as he grunted and simply offered him another rock cake. Ed read the article over Harry's shoulder; the vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day…ok, but who's vault?
"What was in there before?" Ed asked Hagrid. To his dismay, though, the gamekeeper simply shook his head:
"That's top-secret Hogwarts business, I'm afraid."
But when the trio was finally walking back to the castle for dinner, Harry told Ron and Ed about the grubby little paper-wrapped package that was extracted the day he went with Hagrid. Ed found his curiosity was spiked yet again by this information, questions swirling around in his brain. One question stood out more than the others, though, one that he was almost certain he had already figured out the answer to:
Where was that mysterious package now?
~~*e.s.*~~
Draco Malfoy soon became not just Edward's worst enemy, but more like the very bane of the trio's existence. All three were grateful for the fact that first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to deal with Malfoy that much except during passing periods. However, a grim notice pinned upon the bulletin board in the Gryffindor common room made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday—and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.
"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."
"I'll tell you what's typical," Ed remarked, "that a magic school would hold lessons on flying on a broomstick."
He rolled his eyes; what type of stereotypical nonsense had he gotten himself into now? And what's next, summoning spirits and reading tea leaves?
"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."
"What's Quidditch?" said Ed. Ron gaped at him.
"What's Quidditch?" said a pair of voices in unison behind him. Ed turned to see Ron's twin older brothers, Fred and George standing there, a look that was somewhere between shock and delight plastered upon their comical faces.
"Only the most fantastic game ever invented by wizardkind," George—or was it Fred?—said extravagantly.
"Oh, so it's a sport of some sort?" Ed said. The twins tapped upon their chins, then nodded:
"Something like that," they said together.
"You'll have to come to the first game of the year, mate," Fred—or maybe George—commanded the blonde. "Then you'll be able to see it first-hand."
"We can explain it to you, but we'll probably be here all day," the other twin said. "Not that it's too terribly complicated, but breakfast is waiting, y'know?"
And with that they were off, leaving Ed standing back in between Ron and Harry, his face twisted in confusion.
"…What just happened?" he asked Ron, who shook his head.
"Just ignore them; I'll explain Quidditch to you over breakfast."
"Huh," Ed said, shaking his head. "Sorry, but I think I'm gonna head over to the library for a while before class starts, actually. You can tell me later, ok?"
"The library?" Harry asked.
"What do you want to go there for?" said Ron in confusion. Ed grinned excitedly:
"I haven't been there yet; I want to check it out!"
Harry and Ron blinked, looked at each other, then shrugged.
"Ok then," said Harry. "See you later, then."
~~*e.s.*~~
Three-thirty came entirely too soon for Edward's liking, and he reluctantly made his way down the front steps onto the grounds for the Gryffindor's first flying lesson. He found himself trying his hardest to forget every bit of practical physics he had ever learned about in an effort to be at least somewhat decent at managing a broomstick. He ran up and took his place next to Ron and Harry just as their instructor, Madam Hooch arrived. She had short, gray hair and bright yellow eyes that reminded the boys of an eagle or a hawk.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she barked suddenly. "Everyone stand next to a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
"Excuse me, ma'am," a Gryffindor boy asked shyly. "But…what broomsticks?"
Madam Hooch eyed the boy as she extracted her wand and waved it over her head, causing dozens of broomsticks to fly over to where they were and land obediently right next to each student. Ed glanced at his broom; it was very aged and fragile looking with some twigs sticking out at odd angles. He suddenly found himself wondering in concern if the thing would hold up his massive, automail-induced weight.
"Now, everyone stick your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"
Ed raised an eyebrow at her but nonetheless obeyed her orders:
"…Up!"
Nothing happened. The broomstick didn't even twitch. He glanced over at Ron, who was also having no luck with the maneuver whatsoever, then at Harry who had already managed to get his broomstick in his hands. He looked at Ed, grinning triumphantly; Ed offered him a thumbs-up, then tried again:
"Up!"
Nothing.
"Up!"
Zilch.
"UP, dammit, UP!"
Nada.
Ed exhaled frustratingly as he watched more and more students succeed at the task. Why was he no good at any of this magic stuff?
Suddenly, the alchemist had an epiphany; he lifted his right hand—his hand of automail—up to his face, frowning slightly in thought. Then, on a whim, he stepped to the right of his broomstick and raised his left, fleshy hand up above the stick.
"…Up!" he commanded the broomstick, which obeyed his human hand immediately. Ed grasped the handle of the broomstick firmly, wrinkling his nose in disgust; even inanimate objects could tell the difference between man and machine.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, HARD," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three—two—"
But poor Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had sounded.
"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville kept on reluctantly rising, that is, until he gasped and slipped sideways off of the broom—
WHAM!
"Ooooo…" Ed, Harry, Ron, and everyone else winced as they heard a nasty crack reverb throughout the air. Madam Hooch quickly ran over to Neville, her face as white as his.
"…Yep. Broken wrist," she tut-tutted, gently helping the poor Gryffindor up. "Come on, boy, it's all right—up you get."
She turned to the rest of the class.
"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch!'"
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy," piped up Parvati Patil.
Ed rolled his eyes as a Slytherin girl replied nastily to the poor Gryffindor girl's defensive words. His attention was on what Malfoy was up to, the ass.
"Look, it's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
The Remembrall glittered in the sunlight as he held it up. Ed opened his mouth to yell at him when Harry's voice lifted up over the crowd:
"Give it here, Malfoy."
Malfoy smiled nastily:
"…I think leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find…"
He ran over to his broomstick and hopped on, bringing about several gasps from the audience before him.
"…how about up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry demanded, but Malfoy was already up and off. Harry gulped; turned out the blonde prick hadn't been lying, he really could fly.
"Come and get it, Potter!"
Harry grabbed his broom, ignoring several warnings coming from Hermione Granger. He didn't care at this point if he'd get them all in trouble; blood was pounding in his ears as he mounted the broom and kicked off into the air after Malfoy. Ed and Ron looked up in awe at the two boys arguing mid-air.
"…Harry really is a natural," Ron commented enviously. Ed nodded once, looking down at his own broom in wonder…
~~*e.s.*~~
Harry didn't get expelled—on the contrary, much to everyone's surprise, he actually got a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"You're joking," was Ron's incredulous reaction to the news. It was dinnertime and Edward was less shocked—granted this was probably due to the fact that he was too busy stuffing his face to care too much about wizard sports, but he was still grateful that his friend wasn't being sent home. Many a Gryffindor came up to Harry to congratulate him on his success, including Fred and George who were apparently also on the team. All was fine and dandy until Malfoy and his goons approached sneeringly.
"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"
"Never," Ed remarked, a piece of steak-and-kidney pie sticking out of his mouth. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to Harry as Harry spoke:
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you."
"Please, Potter," Malfoy said drawlingly.
"He's got a point," Ed said, belching. "Seriously, a skinny, scrawny thing like you really needs a couple of body guards around to protect. After all, you really do look fragile, Malfoy."
"Shove it, Elric. I'd take you on anytime!" said Malfoy. Suddenly he paused, then smiled:
"Tonight, if you want, actually. Wizard's duel. Wands only—no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose? That's right, you are Muggle-born, aren't you—"
"Of course he has," interjected Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them each up.
"Crabbe," he decided finally. "Midnight it is, then. We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked. That is, so long as you don't chicken out, Elric."
"You wish, Malfoy," Ed said threateningly, grinning evilly.
When Malfoy had gone, the three of them looked at each other.
"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what did you mean you're Ed's second?"
"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually. Catching the look on Harry and Ed's faces, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other, Ed. I bet he expected you to refuse anyway."
"As if! I'd rather just give the ass a good hit to the jaw, if you know what I mean," Ed growled, clenching his automail hand threateningly. "That'd do more damage than measly sparks…"
"I like that idea," commented Ron. "Just throw away the wand and punch him in the nose if all else fails."
"Excuse me?"
The three of them looked up; it was Hermione Granger.
"Can we help you?" said Ed.
"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.
Hermione ignored them and spoke to Harry:
"I couldn't help overhearing what you guys and Malfoy were saying—"
"Bet you could," Ron muttered.
"—and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night; think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you three are caught, and you're bound to be. It'd be really selfish of you all to go."
"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.
"Goodbye," said Ron and Ed in unison.
~~*e.s.*~~
"Half-past eleven," Ron muttered at last. "We'd better go."
Edward rubbed his hands together eagerly; as Malfoy's sneering face re-entered his dark thoughts for the umpteenth time he grinned at the thought of having his big chance to beat the twirp up face-to-face. They picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor common room. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this."
A lamp flickered on; it was Hermione Granger.
"You!" the trio said in accusatory unison.
"Go back to bed!" said Ron furiously.
"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy—he's a prefect, you know; he'd put a stop to this."
She then turned on Edward:
"And you; do you honestly enjoy serving detentions enough to risk getting yet another one?"
Ed grimaced at the memory of his unpleasant detention with Snape the Monday before; though it wasn't too awful, the simple, annoying tasks that Snape had set up for the young Elric to perform, the ass' very presence was what made the detention so horrid to serve. The grouchy Professor was constantly shooting Ed nasty looks and what-not during the two hour punishment.
"Trust me, we know his brother's a prefect," Ed said, sharing a prolonged roll of the eyes with Ron. "And it'll definitely be worth another detention to payback Malfoy for all his stupidity."
Harry, on the other hand, couldn't believe that anyone could be so interfering.
"Come on," he said to Ron and Ed as he pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn't going to give up so easily, however. She followed Ron out into the hallway, hissing at them like an angry goose.
"Don't you care about Gryffindor? Do you only care about yourselves? I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing—"
"Will you just go away already?" Ed growled, silencing the ranting girl immediately. "Just go back to your dormitory and leave us be!"
Hermione frowned:
"All right, but I warned you, you just remember…oh no…"
The three boys turned to see what exactly Hermione was 'oh no'-ing about and nearly laughed out loud; poor nagging Hermione in an effort to leave the rule-breakers instead found herself facing an empty portrait, finding herself to be stuck outside of the Gryffindor common room.
"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.
"Your problem," Ed said.
"…I'm coming with you!"
"NO," Ron and Ed said forcefully. Hermione frowned:
"Do you two honestly think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."
"You've got some nerve—!" Ron began loudly, but Harry interrupted sharply:
"Shut up, both of you! I heard something."
All three were silent as they listened upon a sort of…snuffling?
"Is it Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.
"Let me kick her, I owe her a boot to the skull," Ed hissed eagerly, earning himself a look of reproach from Miss Granger.
But it wasn't Mrs. Norris; it was Neville. He was fast asleep on the floor, and he jerked awake when the quartet approached.
"…Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the password to get in," to poor, tired boy said sleepily.
"Keep your voice down, Neville," Harry warned. "The password's 'Pig Snout,' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere.
"Oh no!" Neville cried despairingly. Ed glanced at the boy:
"By the way how's your arm?"
"Fine now that Madam Pomfrey mended it."
"Good—well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later—"Ron began but was interrupted immediately:
"Don't leave me!" cried Neville yet again, scrambling desperately to his feet. Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.
"If either of us gets caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."
Hermione opened her mouth, most likely to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but before she could utter a word Edward hastily clasped a (non-automail) palm to her mouth and hissed at her to keep quiet—"now."
~~*e.s.*~~
When the trio—no, quintet now—finally arrived in the trophy room, they found that Malfoy and Crabbe had not arrived yet. Ed already had his wand out just in case of a sneak attack or something on Malfoy's part (though he wouldn't give the jerk that much credit…). They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. The minutes crept by.
"He's late," Harry commented concernedly.
"Maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.
Then a sudden noise in the next room made them jump; Ed had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak—and it wasn't Malfoy.
"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."
"Shit, it's Filch!" Ed hissed in fury at his horror-struck companions. "Malfoy tipped him off, the pale little fuc—!"
"Shut it, he'll hear you!" Harry hissed as he waved madly at the others to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped 'round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.
"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."
"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. As Ed passed one that looked identical to his little brother's soul's encasement, he clasped an automail palm to his mouth to stifle his soft gasp of recognition, glancing quickly behind him to make sure Filch wasn't on their tails as he took one last look at the familiar helmet and ran to catch up with the others. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak as Ed inadvertently ran into him—he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into another suit of armor that once again resembled the youngest Elric brother.
The vibrant echoes of the metallic clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.
"RUN!" Harry and Ed yelled in unison, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following—they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where they were or where they were going—they rippled through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway.
"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold stone wall as he attempted to catch his bearings. When he looked up he saw that they were standing near their Charms classroom, which was miles from the trophy room they had run away from.
"I—told—you!" Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest. "I—told—you—all."
"Shut up already," Ed said huffily, joining Harry against the wall in an effort to cool down. He gripped at his leg's paining port, coughing as he momentarily realized that his recent sprint halfway across the castle probably qualified as what Granny Pinako would call strenuous activity. Oops.
"You ok?" Harry whispered to the alchemist once he had finished hacking. Ed hesitantly removed his gloved hand from his mouth, praying to a god he no longer believed in that there was no blood upon the white material. He nodded finally, relived that the white material remained crimson-less.
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."
"Malfoy tricked me," Ed growled. "He was never going to duel with me, the spineless ass. He set us up-how could I have been to stupid?"
"Now you know, don't you, Ed?" Hermione chastised. Ed clenched his fists, trying his hardest to refrain from hitting a girl.
"Let's just go."
Just then, however, the doorknob to the Charms classroom rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. That something, unfortunately, was Peeves, and he was squealing in delight at the sight of the quartet of rule-breakers.
"Shut up, Peeves—please—you'll get us thrown out," Harry pleaded with the poltergeist.
Peeves continued to cackle:
"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty naughty, you'll get caught."
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."
Ed had to give Harry credit for being so contained; he had to bite the inside of his cheek in order to refrain from going off on the dumb ghost.
"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your good, you know."
"Get out of the way!" snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves—
Big mistake.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
Ducking under Peeves the quartet ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door—and it was locked.
"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. "We're done for! This is the end!"
"It's your damn fault!" Ed growled accusingly. "You're the one that tried to punch the ghost!"
They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves' shouts.
"Here, move it!" Ed commanded Harry and Ron. "I can break it down—"
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Ed's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked and the door swung open—they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening. Filch had finally arrived at the scene, but Peeves was giving him as much hell as he had given them, thankfully. The two of them outside the dark corridor went at it for a while, until they heard Peeves cackle annoyingly and whoosh away, leaving an uber-pissed Filch alone and cursing in rage at the poltergeist.
"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be ok—get off, Neville!"
Neville whimpered but nonetheless relinquished Harry's sleeve. Harry looked at him: "What's wrong with you, anyway?"
"Uh…" Ed said when he had turned around to see what Neville was so scared off. Harry gulped as he caught sight of the alchemist's expression, then hesitantly turned his head to see…for a moment he was sure he'd walked into a nightmare, for this was just too much, on top of everything that had happened so far.
"I think we've found that off-limits corridor Dumbledore told us about, guys…" Ed whispered shakily.
The quintet had found themselves looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads, three pairs of rolling, mad eyes, three noses, three mouths that were dropping big slobs of drool in very close proximity to where Ron stood, and three pairs of nasty, yellowish fangs…
They all screamed in unison.
"Open the door open the door OPEN THE DAMN DOOR ALREADY!" Ed yelled frantically, tearing his eyes away from the dark creature as Harry groped for the doorknob.
They all fell backward, then ran—practically flew—back down the corridor. They didn't see Filch back in the Charms corridor thankfully enough, but they hardly cared. All any of them wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.
"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their flushed, sweaty faces.
"Never mind that—pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.
It was a while before anyone said a word. Neville, indeed, honestly looked like he'd never speak again. Ed, on the other hand, looked like the most unfazed one out of the group—no doubt he had seen far worse than a three-headed dog before attending Hogwarts—and rather, he looked more contemplative than traumatized. He rested his head upon the cool palm of his right hand, wrapping his mind around the events of the night and what they may in fact be connected to…
"…What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."
Hermione had gotten both her breath and her bad temper back again.
"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."
"It was standing on a trapdoor," Ed spoke, meeting Hermione's eyes with a serious, ominous expression. "That monster is guarding something in the third floor corridor."
Hermione nodded, then stood up, glaring at all of them.
"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed—or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."
"Please do," Ed said, rolling his eyes. "We wouldn't want you to miss out on your much-needed beauty sleep."
Ron and Harry chuckled at the harsh joke as Hermione huffed irritably and stomped up the stairs to the girl's dormitories. Ron stared after her, shaking his head.
"You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"
The redhead then yawned hugely himself:
"…I'm gonna go on to bed too. Coming with, you guys?"
"I'll be there in a sec," Ed said. "Take Neville with you, though. He may need to be sedated after what he saw tonight."
Harry watched as the two of them trudged up the stairs to go to bed, then looked back at Ed, whose look of deep thought had returned almost immediately.
"…Not to be nosy or anything, but…what are you thinking about?" Harry asked curiously. Ed looked up from his armchair at the black-haired boy:
"I think we've found out where the item from vault seven hundred and thirteen is."
Harry blinked in surprise:
"You remembered the vault number? That was, like, almost a week ago that we saw Hagrid—"
"Photographic memory," Ed said dismissingly. "That's not my point, though."
"Right," Harry said sheepishly.
"I already had suspicions before tonight that it was hidden in the school. After all, why else would a certain portion of the school be off-limits to all students? I didn't think it would be so heavily guarded, though, and by the looks of it, the item in question probably has even more traps and what-not guarding it."
"I wish I knew what exactly that thing is guarding."
Ed raised an eyebrow:
"You mean you don't know? Weren't you there when Hagrid took it from Gringotts?"
"Yeah, but it was wrapped up in grubby brown paper, like I said earlier. I couldn't see exactly what it was."
"Yeah, but how big was it? What was it shaped like?"
It was Harry's turn to raise a skeptical eyebrow.
"Why exactly do you want to know?"
The two wizards locked eyes for a long moment or so, then Ed sighed.
"Just curious," he muttered finally, getting up from his armchair and marching away and up the stairs to the boy's dormitories, leaving Harry in the dark.
~~*e.s.*~~
A/Endnote: this fanfic is sooo much fun. Hopefully some sort of alternate plot is starting to pop up to you more perceptive readers, yes? Now, I know that a lot of y'all had complaints about too many copy-and-paste quotations, so if this amount is too much once again, let me know what I can do to fix it; I want to make sure the story is as good as possible for all my readers! ^_^
Once again, just letting y'all know that there are some illustrations up on my DeviantArt pertaining to this story and I'd love it if you would check them out! No promises on the quality, but everyone on DA seemed to take a liking to my doodle of Ed in Gryffindor robes ;)
Link is on my profile, but in case it doesn't work for some reason, my username is MusicianInTraining. 3 y'all! ^_^