Ch. 5- Tuesday Morning Surprises

The next day came quickly as it was Ed's first day of classes. He had been excused from the day before, as Dumbledore said they mostly introduced the curriculum for the year and that he could always rely on Hermione to explain this.

"Supposedly, she takes notes on everything," Dumbledore had chuckled.

Today he made it to breakfast on time, courtesy of his map, and immediately began relocating all manner of food onto his plate. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined him shortly, just as hundreds of owls with packages swooped through the windows into the Great Hall. Edward watched them in awe until one landed with a foot in his glass of juice and the other in his scrambled eggs.

"Holy—!" he exclaimed, jumping back from the table. He owl set down the envelope in his plate, grabbing a piece of toast, and flying off with his payment.

Ed returned to his seat in embarrassment as he noticed the Slytherins—namely Malfoy and friends—snickering into their food. Hermione scowled and picked up the letter from the mess of food with her thumb and forefinger. With a flick of her wand it was clean and she handed it to Edward wordlessly. He opened it, ignoring the fact that the food simply disappeared and found his school schedule.

"What do you have first?" Ron asked, nibbling on the end of a sausage, attempting to peek over Ed's shoulder at the list.

"Double History," Ed replied, skimming the rest of the day's events and then tucking it into his back pocket, "Then Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, and double Potions after lunch."

"Whoa," said Ron in surprise, "You memorized all that just now?"

"It's no big deal," Edward said, changing the subject, "By the way, Hermione, did I miss anything important yesterday?"

"No."

Harry cut her off before she could say yes. Hermione scowled as he continued because she obviously disagreed with him.

"The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is a fake, Snape harassed me as usual, Professor Binns was boring as usual, and McGonagall just went over what we'll be doing this year. Oh, and Hagrid just showed us a few of the animals we'll be raising this year," he listed.

"So I didn't miss much," Ed concluded; Dumbledore had been right.

Edward quickly learned what Harry had been talking about when he said Binns was boring. But not only was he boring, he was dead too. Ed had finally settled down after getting over the initial shock and blurting, "How the hell can ghosts exist?" He'd then been informed and asked to sit down by the professor.

It was perhaps the most exciting event that occurred in the next two hours, all of which Ed spent reading the Potions textbook for year three. He didn't have to take notes as Hermione kindly offered to let him copy hers once he was caught up. Ron and Harry complained about how she never let them copy her notes, but all they got was a sharp look from the teacher and a cold shoulder from Hermione, as she was fervently back to writing notes.

By the end of the class Ed had finished the Potions book and had decided to read the third year of Defense Against the Dark Arts next. On the way to this particular class, he had his nose already in the book, and was still able to somehow maneuver through the halls. Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped at him, but otherwise said nothing. He was still reading when class started, and would have continued if he hadn't been interrupted by a deep, raspy voice.

"Mr. Elric, would you be so kind as to pay attention?"

Edward's head snapped up to meet a pair of equally gold orbs in complete surprise. Student held teacher in an eye lock, as the younger's burned with inquisition. Finally, he answered due to quick, intelligent thinking.

"Yes Professor."

The classed passed Edward by and left him at a standstill. He was in such confusion he couldn't pay attention to the tall, dirty-blond man in square spectacles who led the class. When they were dismissed, he hung back, pretending to be collecting his notes, and told his friends not to wait up; he had some things to settle, but he didn't tell them that. The new professor was waiting for him with an amused smile.

"Edward," the man greeted, nodding his head.

"Hoenheim," Ed greeted back, then reiterating, "…father."

"It's Professor Hoenheim here," the man corrected, "I'm a teacher now."

"Not at the moment," Ed replied, unable to hold his tongue any longer, "What are you doing here? I thought you stayed in Germany!"

"I did, that is, until I was woken one night by an owl pecking on my window with an envelope tied to his leg. Apparently my son is a wizard." The man's amused smile grew. "I mostly came here to see if it was true."

"It's not funny," Edward grumbled, "This place is maddening; it doesn't make sense!"

"Perhaps wizards have a different view of what makes sense," Hoenheim supplied, "After all, we come from a separate world."

"Whatever." Ed waved this off and changed the subject. "So, how did you end up as a professor?" he asked.

"Dumbledore needed one, and after he realized we were related, he offered me the job. Supposedly magical ability runs in the family…much like alchemic talent."

"But what about your…"Ed paused to search for the right word, "…condition?"

"The school nurse—Madame Pomfrey I believe her name was—fixed me in five minutes."

He rolled up his sleeve and beamed at the flawless skin. Ed gaped at it, trying to form words.

"How did she do that!" he finally blurted.

"A dark, sludgy potion and a couple flicks of her wand," his father answered, "I never told her the reason I was rotting; she took one look and diagnosed it as leprosy. It must be a similar disease."

"But do you believe it's really gone?" Ed asked, snapping his fingers, "Just like that?"

"I accept what I see," Hoenheim shrugged. There was an odd silence before he spoke again. "So, I was thinking…I'd like to help you find a way home. I'd very much like to see Alphonse again, as well as Winry and Pinako." Edward smiled.

"You have any theories?" he asked.

"Have you?" his dad asked in return, another light smile on his face.

"I haven't had time to visit the library yet," Ed frowned in disappointment, "I've been too busy catching up."

"Well, I guess you'd better hurry to your next class then, since you're already late as it is."

"Couldn't you give me a pass?" Edward asked.

"If I did that, it'd be known we were talking," Hoenheim pointed out, "And Dumbledore specifically told me not to draw attention to us being related."

"You could be giving me a detention," Ed countered.

"Then I'd have to follow up on it," Hoenheim replied, scribbling on a piece of parchment and handing it to his son, "7:00 in my office tonight, and don't be late or it'll be another."

"Yeah, I get ya," Ed agreed slyly, suddenly brightening, "I almost forgot; I have something to show you anyway!"

He left after granting his father an uplifting smile and a wave goodbye. Hoenheim watched him go, grateful his son had forgiven him for his faults; he truly did love his family.

Edward arrived at his Transfiguration class about ten minutes late. He gave McGonagall the pass and sat down next to his friends with a rare peace of mind he now seemed to get only after having an enjoyable conversation with his father.

"What took so long?" Harry asked, "I thought you were just organizing your notes."

"Professor Hoenheim pegged me for detention right as I was leaving," Ed explained, screwing up his face in mock anger, "the old bastard."

"Edward!" Hermione hissed, "You shouldn't insult the teachers like that! And Professor Hoenheim is so nice too!"

"You just think that because he gave you points for being a bloody know-it-all," Ron snickered.

"Shut up and turn your spider into a tea cozy," Hermione huffed, demonstrating perfectly. Ron gulped as Professor McGonagall walked over.

"Excellent job as usual, Hermione. Five points to Gryffindor," she praised, turning a weary eye to Ron next, "Is there a problem, Mr. Weasley?"

"N-no ma'am." The red-head replied nervously, whining under his breath the second she left, "Why spiders? Why me?"

Ed tried to turn his spider into a tea cozy—he did, but he didn't believe it'd work for him. It didn't. Hermione told him he was doing the correct flicks and swishes, and that it should have worked, but no matter how precise Ed had the technique, the spider wouldn't disappear. Hermione promised to teach him starting with smaller and simpler items, however much Ed insisted he'd get it right eventually.

"You can't do it without practice!" she snapped.

Edward sighed deeply; the academic necessities were going to end up completely wasting all the time he could be searching for a way home. As it was, he hadn't been able to go to the library yet, something that really bothered him. Usually the library would be his first priority.

'Maybe I'll go there for lunch,' he thought. He was used to two meals a day from all the years Alphonse and him had traveled. Sometimes they'd skip for research, sometimes they couldn't find a place to eat, and sometimes they were short on money.

Class ended and Ed still hadn't made any progress on his spider. He didn't particularly care—he didn't think life should be altered so easily. He told his friends he was going to the library while they were exiting the classroom. Hermione merely accepted this and decided to go as well. Harry and Ron gave him strange looks, shrugged, and walked away mumbling about him and Hermione being "the perfect match for each other since they were both bookworms anyway".

Edward was at a standstill when they reached the library. Even though Hermione and the others knew he was trying to find a way home, he didn't feel comfortable searching while she was present. It was a risk he didn't want to take; numbers of questions would surface if he came across an unorthodox way home. Questions like,

'what did you do to get over here?'. They were questions Ed did not want to answer.

Therefore, much to his disappointment, he settled for reading his textbooks. By the end of lunch he had the Defense Against the Dark Arts and the Care of Magical Creatures books for year three read. That left Magical History and Transfigurations for year three, and then all of his classes for years four and five. Ed sighed—there was so much to do!