A/N: You all are amazing! I've some interesting conversations with many of you - and some of you even managed to inspire certain scenes, dialogue, etc.. I really appreciate the support you've given for this story and I hope I don't disappoint you!
** I am soo proud of myself right now! I just completed my outline for this story! It ended up being ten pages long - but now I have a full guideline to go by. I never realized how handy it is to have one. I usually wing-it and just go with the flow. NEVER AGAIN.
cheshirecatgrin: YES. Alphonse does still have his alchemy! He just hasn't had a chance to show his skills off. Yet. (;
The QAS: I love your mega-review. It's very insightful and I thought it definitely deserved a reply. You actually got me thinking on a few things that I completely overlooked - like why Ron hasn't told Harry of Al in letters - and thanks to you, that minor plot hole is now covered! As for Arthur's obsession with muggles - that will have to wait until later. But I DO want to include that at some point in this! Thanks again for your help and kind words!
xx (important): I've decided that after this chapter to slow down my updates. School starts next and I have so much to get done before then! It's going to be more difficult to get everything done (because I'm going to have a shit ton of homework and I'm getting a job for the weekends), but this WILL get finished. It's my baby right now. xD
5. Titanium
Initially, Hermione didn't know what to think of Alphonse Elric, but now, after spending a week with him, she has come to a conclusion: she likes him. Not in the 'I want to marry this boy and have his children' sense, but as in a fellow peer and bookworm sense. She's never met anyone with such a strong attraction to literature as herself, not to mention the fact that he can understand complex texts that even she has a difficult time grasping. They can literally discuss theories, magical concepts, creatures, laws, and such for hours on end. Too say the Elric is becoming a fast best friend of hers is an understatement.
Of course he's not without his flaws.
She's noticed that he has a tendency to withdraw, a distant look in his eyes as he does so. And in those moments, she realizes that she's never seen eyes so gold, so deep, and so terribly haunted. When she catches his gaze and focuses, she sees the look of a fifty-year-old man that has bore witness to too many tragedies and horrors in his lifetime. Then she begins to wonder what he has seen, but quickly squashes the notion, because she realizes she doesn't want to actually know. Curiosity did kill the cat, after all.
Then there are times, when he doesn't think anyone are looking, when he harbors a look of distrust, as if he thinks that the Weasley household is going to flip on him at any given second. She's discussed it with the others, but they believe it to be the result of being abused (if you can't trust the people who take care of you, the ones who are supposed to love you unconditionally, then who can you?). She would have mentioned the fact that Harry has been neglected, but bit her tongue - Alphonse's case is obviously much worse than Harry's.
She can't begin to fathom what that boy has been through. To think, her whole life, the worse she has ever received is when Draco Malfoy and his goons insult her for being muggle-born - but to be starved, locked away, possibly harmed physically - she can't imagine the strain it must put on one.
On a much brighter note, Hermione has also taken great interest in Alphonse's recovery. As mentioned before, Molly explained to her that he had most likely been abused and neglected, hence why he was so thin when he first arrived (not that he's still not thin, because he most certainly is). Lately though, his skin has begun to shine, no longer a pasty white, but a light sun-kissed color, his cheeks filling and his muscles becoming more rounded.
"He weighs a hundred and fifteen now!" Molly had told her just yesterday, proud that her magic has helped him recover so greatly. Then again, Alphonse has been diligent; working out, eating as much as he can, drinking all the potions Molly offers his way, and keeping track of all the calories he intakes (to ensure he gains at least a pound a day).
She's happy for him, because quite frankly, when she first arrived she had been deeply worried about his condition. Ron explained to her just how terrifying he looked when he first arrived (practically a walking, talking skeleton). To see him filling out his body so quickly leaves her with a light feeling.
There is also something strange - peculiar and interesting - that Ron mentioned to her recently: Alphonse said he is an alchemist.
The problem with that statement is that the last alchemist, according to history, was the late Nicholas Flamel. The art is magical in nature, but tightly intertwined with science - thus the reason why many consider it a non-magical art. Every concept has an explanation, unlike magic that just works. Only those gifted can even begin to understand alchemic texts.
Dumbledore himself said it's a complex art that he's not even mastered. And while Alphonse is exceptionally bright, it's highly unlikely that he could master something that not even Dumbledore can. It's too far-fetched in her opinion, but she's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
The fourteen-year-old is shook from her reverie when she hears groaning and mumbling through the wall from the next bedroom over. She raises up in bed, squinting through the dark at Ginny who's still sound asleep. Fortunately for Hermione, she never even dosed off yet so she doesn't feel the effects of sleep. She frowns when she realizes the source of the sound. It's coming from Al's room . . .
Is he talking to someone?
If so - who?
Why?
Hermione climbs out of her bed, reminding herself to walk on the tips of her toes, and creeps around the mess on the floor the girls have accumulated in the past week, and slips out into the hallway. The incoherent mumbling only increases in volume the closer she gets to the door - which is cracked open. How odd, she thinks to herself, Al usually keeps his door completely shut.
Cautiously she peeks inside, her heart calming and eyes softening at the sight.
The bed is a tangled mess of sheets, quilt, and limbs, Alphonse's head just visible near the headboard thanks to the moonlight pouring in through the nearby window, highlighting his slim face. His face contorts and he mumbles, "Brother . . . Ed . . . please d-don't leave me . . . we're all we've got . . ."
Hermione lets out a shallow breath. Alphonse really misses his older brother, Edward. He mentions him often, telling of things his brother has done and said, a fond look always on his face as he does so. She asked Molly of his whereabouts only to find out that the two have been separated and once Alphonse has a clean bill of health, he's going to go find Edward.
It's heartbreaking -
And suddenly Hermione realizes that she is being intrusive. She eases away from the door with one backward glance at Alphonse, then shuffles into Ginny's room for the night.
Edward Elric is certainly a fascinating one.
Ever since his strange arrival, Dumbledore has kept close tabs on him. The boy's devotion to find his younger brother knows no bounds - a sort of devotion that Dumbledore finds himself admiring, because most people would have long since given up - or thought their loved one dead. But no, Edward is certain that his sibling is alive.
When the boy isn't gone, he's either working for Hagrid or in the kitchen for Dumbledore - and when he's not doing either of those, he's in the library devouring every book in sight. He's asked questions about magic, how it works, if there are any spell that can help him find his brother, and others, but he's sad to say, he hasn't been of much assistance to Edward.
It seems, for now, all he can do is take him under his wing and allow him a means of getting around the country to search. Of course, due to his low funds, he isn't able to go too far. But, he has a feeling the boy will start taking trips that last weeks at a time - the teaching assistant job he's offered will probably fall flat, but he doesn't mind. He just wants Edward to be reunited with Alphonse.
He hates seeing him so upset and down, especially when he returns from another failed trip. Each time, he looks a little more beaten down, but no less determined, his golden irises burning.
If only he could do more for the boy . . .
Down at Hagrid's, Edward glares at a large, bird-horse chimera (a creature that he threw a fit about for hours, before being explained multiple times that, in fact, it isn't a chimera, but a mythical breed of animal) with a firm scowl in place. He turns his head to the side where Hagrid stands, feeding some other strange looking animal. "You want me to give this thing a bath?"
"Hmm, yeah, it shouldn't be that hard. Just watch out fer its-"
Edward yelps as the (not) chimera horse reaches down and tugs on his ponytail with its beak before taking a nip at his shoulder. He swats hatefully at the animal. "It just fucking bit me!"
"Ah, that's what I was about to say: he bites."
"That would have been nice to know BEFOREHAND, you giant asshole!"
Hagrid chuckles, having grown accustomed to Edward's tendency to use such profane language. It doesn't even bother him anymore - in fact, if Edward were to suddenly stop, he'd worry something was the matter with the boy! "No need to get all torn up, lad," he says, "he does that to everyone once in a while. Even me. Of course, I put 'em in his place." He looks at the creature. "Isn't that right, Borse?" In response it shakes its feathers and whinnies.
Edward rolls his eyes. "If that's the case then you can wash him." He places the pale of warm water down on the ground and focuses his attention back on Hagrid. "I'll go check the garden."
"This is getting me NOWHERE!" Edward screeches, slamming his hands down on the wooden surface of the desk he occupies. The sound that follows as result echoes throughout the Hogwarts' library, reaching every dusty corner and cranny the room has to offer. He promptly buries his face in his palms, his stomach churning as he considers the possibility that Alphonse might not be here with him.
He doesn't -
Can't -
Accept it, because he hasn't checked everywhere in England - and doesn't exactly have the means to do so. But when it comes down to it, he will uproot himself and travel to every corner of this foreign land - earth as it is so often referred to in the geography books he has come across - and live on the streets if that's what it takes.
He will do anything for Alphonse. He had promised so many years ago - to his mother ("You're the older brother, Ed, that means you have to take care of Al, understand?") that he'd protect Alphonse no matter what. He refuses to let her down.
He runs his hands through his hair, the sensation of his right palm sliding across the silky strands sending shock waves from the appendage up to his shoulder. He leans back, withdrawing his hands, and stares at them, taking special note of the right. While it is much thinner than his left (he still does everything with his left due to it just feeling more comfortable after years of being forced to use it), he can't be any happier to have it back.
Thanks to you, Al . . .
Edward sighs and slumps in his chair, eyes shifting towards the blotchy words in one of many books strewn out in front of him, all flipped open to random pages. When he would get bored of one book, he'd transition over to another, repeating the process until one, two, or all were read from front to back.
He clamps his eyes shut and arcs his back until his forehead finds purchase upon the desk's smooth surface.
If he doesn't develop a plan soon -
He doesn't really want to think or even consider it -
But, if he doesn't, then what? His soul will not rest until he knows that Alphonse is safe. But this world is so foreign. Amestris isn't even visible on a map, for crying out loud! What does that even mean for him? Is he trapped in Alphonse's Gate? He scrunches his nose.
From what he recalls, the Gate is pitch black, only lightened by a stream of memories, knowledge, and so much more, all merged together. He couldn't stand on his own, he merely drifted, until tiny black hands deconstructed him and he was thrown back out the Gate, facing Truth once more. There was nothing solid inside, let alone an entire planet or alternate universe.
But . . . where is he? If he didn't come out of Alphonse's Gate in Amestris, then where?
"Ugh - none of this makes any goddamn sense!" he snaps and kicks his feet out with a growl so low it is reminiscent of something feral.
Dumbledore observes from a distance, his heart clenching at the sight.
"The Quidditch World Cup is just a few days away now - we'll have to go fetch Harry." Ron chirps happily during dinner, taking a large bite of the casserole Molly prepared. Hermione bobs her head in agreement, the excitement for the upcoming Quidditch match radiating from each the of the present Weasley children.
"I am so excited," Hermione says, "I've been waiting all summer for this!" She smiles over at Arthur. "Thanks again for taking me along."
Arthur waves his hand in a dismissive manner. "It's nothing, really."
Alphonse shakes his head in defiance. "Yeah, it is! I mean - you barely know me and bought me a ticket. I feel terrible!"
He really does. He feels as if he is mooching off of them, even if they insist that he's not. Back home, he and Edward had to work for everything they got and as a result, just having things handed to him is the strangest feeling (as if he doesn't deserve it - and he doesn't). He's not used to it one bit.
"Dear, you need to stop worrying so much," Molly clucks, waving her fork around, stern, yet somehow warm, expression hanging on her face,"If you don't accept what we're offering, it will hurt our feelings. So you might as well save yourself - and us - the trouble and just take it."
"Yeah, you should know our mum and dad by now," George adds, shrugging. "You should know better than to argue with 'em - especially mum. Once she has her mind set on something it's going to happen - whether or not you like it."
Molly sends George a dry look before focusing back on Alphonse. He can't help but squirm under her gaze (or is it a glare?). "Just be sure to enjoy yourself. That's the only payment we'll accept from you. How does that sound?"
Alphonse feels the corners of his lips twitch upward. This is how a family should be. They all look so happy - their eyes innocent - the house warm and filled with love. He can't help but feel jealous of the Weasleys, because this was ripped away from him. This was what he craved for all those years and still does.
He takes a deep breath and finally answers: "I like the sound of that."
Harry hasn't felt more relieved to be away from the Dursley's house in Little Whinging than he does right now.
They treat him like an animal; locking him up in his room and practically starving him. To think, if he weren't born with magic, then he wouldn't have an escape from them until he turned eighteen. He shivers at the thought.
At the moment, he is standing in Ron's bedroom, tossing his belongings on the spare bed in the room before plopping down beside it. He feels as if a heavy weight has been lifted off his shoulders (perhaps that is just Vernon Dursley being off his back) and he can finally relax, because, to him, the Weasleys are more his family than the Dursleys - and in more ways than one, they are.
Molly and Arthur treat him something akin to a surrogate son, always doting and concerned for him, making sure to send him gifts during the holidays and whatnot. Then Ron is like a brother to him - along with George and Fred, despite their pranks. He'd say the same for Ginny, but he doesn't think she likes him too well. Whenever he's near her face turns red and she flees the room.
Maybe she heard a terrible rumor about him and doesn't like the thought of being around him. Even though it bothers him more than it should, he isn't really all that surprised. Due to being the only known survivor of the killing curse, people like to gossip about him.
Ron popping his head into the bedroom lures Harry from his thoughts, and he gives his best friend a grin. "What is it, Ron?"
"After you get settled in, there's someone I'd like you to meet." Ron answers, thumbing in a direction down the hall. Harry feels the grin slip from his face, replaced by a thin line. Ron must sense his confusion, because he sighs and says, "We've got a guest staying with us until he's better. He's in the bathroom right now, or else I'd introduce you already."
Harry raises his eyebrows, curious about this newcomer. "Is he a family member?" he questions. Ron slips the rest of the way into the room and takes a seat on the bed across from Harry's, scooting back far enough to lean against the wall. He shakes his head.
"No, he used some weird apparition spell and literally fell from the ceiling! Landed right on the kitchen table, naked and nothing but skin and bones!" Ron blubbers as if he still can't believe it. Not that Harry can either - he feels just as baffled as Ron looks. "He's not nearly as thin as when he arrived - probably almost forty pounds lighter to be more precise. Unfortunately, he doesn't remember how he got here."
That's so weird, Harry thinks to himself, still in too much shock to actually be able to form a coherent sentence required to respond. It feels as if Ron has just dropped an atomic bomb on him. When he does manage to gain control of his tongue, what comes out is: "Do you think he's possibly connected to you-know-who?"
Ron looks surprised for a moment, but only momentarily, because a second a later he is folding his arms across his stomach and laughing. "No way!" He bangs his head lightly against the wall on accident, but it doesn't seem to faze him. "This guy is too much of a saint to be connected to him. Mum already acts as if he's apart of the family! Dad, too! They bought him a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup Final! If that doesn't show how much they like him, then I don't know what will."
Now this, isn't all that shocking. Molly always has harbored a strong maternal sense about her. Whenever a child is injured, sick, or threatened, it's as if something inside of her goes off and she wants to help or protect them. It's a trait that he has always admired about her.
"Why didn't you tell me of him in your letters?" It isn't like Ron to keep things - especially something like this - from him. Ron doesn't look affronted or abashed in the least bit.
"Mum wants to keep it on the down low - he might be a muggle and that means he'll have to have his memory wiped." He scratches his head. "And you know mum, once she's attached it's hard for her to let go."
"Well, do you like him?" Harry inquires, one eyebrow cocked. Just because Molly likes the kid - it could just be her soft spot for children - doesn't mean that he will - and if he's going to trust anyone's opinion of this newcomer, it's going to be Ron's. Not that they always agree; it's just better than going into the situation blind.
Ron shrugs. "He's fine. He's closer to 'Mione than me." He rubs at his nose. "Those two like spending time in the study together."
"Doing what?"
At this, the redhead gains a horrified look that makes Harry wonder what could possibly be going on to incur such a reaction, when - "They read." Harry nearly drops where he's sitting, eye twitching.
"Are you that surprised with Hermione?" he asks, clearly not amused. Ron shakes his head from left-to-right. "Exactly. Perhaps he just likes to read a lot -"
"Or he likes her." Ron sniffs, his face twisting into a look that screams what he's feeling: jealousy. Harry smirks.
The boy has had a crush on Hermione since last year, but he's too stubborn to admit it. That or he's just dense. Harry can't decide which, because it might be a combination of both, and most likely is, but with Ron, one can't be too certain. Anyhow, the redhead always gets this peculiarly expression on his face when another of the male gender gets a little too close to Hermione.
It would be hilarious if Ron didn't rant about it for hours afterward - or pick a fight with Hermione just to make himself feel better.
Their conversation comes to an end when a light knock from the doorway interrupts. Harry glances over, fully expecting to see one of the twins, Ginny, or Molly or Arthur, but not a boy of average height with clean-cut blond hair and striking gold irises - he looks vaguely familiar, but he doesn't see how that's possible.
"You cut off all your hair, mate!" Ron squeaks, a look of awe on his face. "You don't look like a girl anymore!" Harry nearly face-palms at the rude comment and glances at the boy, expecting him to be offended, only to find an amused expression in-tact. Harry can only blink, astounded. Usually, when insulted, people tend to retaliate in some manner, be it verbal or physical.
Then again, Ron had said that this boy is almost kind to a fault.
The boy laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Yeah, I'd been meaning to cut it for a while." he admits, eyes moving towards Harry. His once occupied hand drops to his side before he approaches. "I guess you're the one every is talking about?"
Harry smiles and offers his hand. "That depends. What were they saying?"
"Good things - Harry Potter, right?" he says, accepting his hand and giving a firm shake. Harry nods. This guy doesn't seem too bad, after all. Definitely not giving him negative (distrusting) vibes like Peter Pettigrew. "Alphonse Elric."
Harry's eyes widen. "Alphonse Elric?" He bobs his head. "That sounds familiar . . ." But where has he heard it from?
"You're probably thinking of another Alphonse - but call me Al for short." Alphonse suggests, shoulders raising and slumping in a nonchalant gesture. Harry chuckles, having no better explanation.
"You're probably right!" he agrees. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Al."
TBC
BAM. Cliffhanger! Er, kind of. xD
Before anyone asks (if they even DO), yes, this chapter was meant to speed things up a little bit - mainly because I don't plan on this story being some forty chapter piece. I'm honestly hoping it doesn't exceed past chapter 29 (hopefully it doesn't even get that long), but that depends on how I go from point to point in my outline. Even though the outline IS complete, it doesn't include what conversations need to be had - just the major points. I have to fill in the rest as I go.
As for Harry not recognizing Al right off the bat? Well, Harry has a lot on his mind - and I've always seen him to be the type to get lost in himself. By that, I do mean he can be a little selfish at times (as we all can be - it's only human).
Anyways, please tell me what you think!
