Ed returned to the Leaky Cauldron late that night with dozens of questions spiraling through his mind. Kingsley had freely given him all the information on the case, but none of it added up in the ways Ed had expected.
Why did Black wait so long to escape Azkaban? Why was everyone so sure Black was after Potter and only Potter? Why hadn't Black targeted any of the Aurors who had arrested him? How was Black staying hidden? How did Black escape in the first place?
Ed shoved those questions to the corner of his mind. He had agreed to floo into the Auror Department every Saturday to help with the case. He could worry about it then. In the meantime, he'd have to worry about teaching alchemy.
Unfortunately, Teacher's method wouldn't work. Even if Dumbledore permitted him to strand students on deserted islands for months at a time, it would be a logistical nightmare and he would still have to teach the ones that couldn't figure out the riddle. Besides, there weren't even enough islands for all the students, even if they paired up.
The parlor was empty except for the Weasley parents, who were in the middle of an argument.
"It makes no sense not to tell him," Arthur was saying. "Harry's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen years old and-"
"Arthur, the truth would terrify him!" Molly cut across him. "Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over his head? For heaven's sake, he's happy not knowing."
"What's this about?" Ed asked, sitting down at the other end of the table.
Both of them visibly reined themselves in.
"We were discussing whether or not to tell Harry that Sirius Black is coming after him," Molly said through gritted teeth.
Ed nodded. "I had a serial killer me after one time," he said absently. "No one got a chance to warn me until he attacked me. Damn near killed me. I was inches away from death when Mustang finally showed up. Course, I was pretty shaken up already, but still."
"Black won't be able to get inside Hogwarts," Molly insisted. "It's the safest place there is."
"I heard rumors that it was attacked last year," Ed countered.
"Exactly," Arthur said. "It won't hurt to have the boy on his guard, especially since he's always getting himself into trouble. He already ran away from home. Think of what might happen if he does that again."
Molly sighed. "I just don't want him to miserable, knowing that man is trying to kill him."
"Look, Molly," Ed said, "I'll keep an eye on him for you."
Molly nodded, but she still looked upset. Ed decided it was a good time to change the subject.
"So Arthur, you work with muggle objects, right?" he asked.
Arthur nodded.
"I've got a couple of machines that I need to work at Hogwarts. Think you could help me out."
Arthur's face lit up. "I'll see what I can do."
Ed rubbed the back of his neck. "I also kinda need some romantic advice."
"I'd be glad to help, dear," Molly said.
Up in Ed's room, Molly sat on the stool in the corner.
"So what are these machines, exactly?" Arthur asked.
Ed looked awkward, even shy, sitting on the corner of the bed. "I'd rather you keep this to yourselves, alright? It's kinda private."
"Of course," Arthur said.
"Okay," Ed huffed. "It's called automail and it's basically a really advanced prosthesis."
He pushed up his left pant leg to reveal a steel leg up to his thigh. Molly gasped. An old scar encircled the base of the automail.
Ed leaned down to untie his shoe and pull it off. The leg looked almost identical to a human leg, except for the color.
"How does it work?" Arthur asked calmly, though his face was pale.
"I don't know the details, but basically it's got artificial nerves that attack to the real ones so I can move it like a real limb. Here, you can see the port better on the arm." Ed's voice was perfectly casual, like having hunks of metal for limbs was perfectly normal. He shrugged out of his shirt, displaying a steel right arm and a massive scar in his side. The port was bolted into his shoulder and he had even more scars surrounding it.
"It usually works just like a flesh limb, but I just switched back to the standard model form a much lighter one, and I'm still adjusting to it," Ed explained.
"What happened?" Molly asked.
Ed grimaced. "Don't ask. I was young. I was smart enough to get myself into trouble and stupid enough to think I could get myself out again."
Molly decided she really didn't want to know. "You mentioned romantic troubles," she prompted while Arthur started to examine the limbs.
"Yeah. So I proposed to my mechanic, Winry, yesterday, and she accepted." Ed was grinning from ear to ear.
"Congratulations," Molly said.
"Thanks. Problem is, it was kinda a spur of the moment thing, so I don't have a ring yet and I don't think I should just owl it to her."
"Well, you're right about that," Molly said. "Once you get the ring, you should invite her up here and give it to her in person."
"Yeah, I thought so," Ed said. "Do I have to propose again? It wasn't really a normal proposal."
"Oh no. As long as she agreed once, you can just hand her the ring. Of course, it couldn't hurt."
Ed nodded.
"I'd love to meet her," Arthur put in, not looking up from Ed's leg. "This is amazing work. I'd love to meet the woman who made it."
"Of course it's amazing," Ed said. "It's Winry's work. She's a genius. She made my first limbs when we were both eleven and I had those for four years with no problems. She made me a new arm from scratch in three days one time. Three. Days."
"Maybe you could invite her here to work and you could give her the ring then," Molly offered.
"I dunno," Ed said. "She's already got a lot of clients in Rush Valley and Resembool so she travels enough as it is. Maybe."
Arthur started to charm the automail and Ed grimaced as sparks flew.
"There. That should do it," Arthur said after a few minutes.
Ed flexed the arm. It moved much more easily.
"Great. Thanks."
"I'm not sure how well those wards will hold up in a place as magical as Hogwarts," Arthur warned. "I might have to re-enchant them."
"How about I come by every Sunday and you can check up on them," Ed offered.
"That'd work," Arthur agreed. "I'll owl you if that changes."
The next morning, Harry woke up to Tom's toothless grin.
He went downstairs to find Mr. Weasley reading the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a child.
Professor Elric was eating breakfast and steadfastly ignoring the twins who were badgering him from either side of his seat. Professor Elric had braided his golden hair. The gleaming locks reminded Harry uncomfortably of Lockhart.
"I've got something I need to tell you," Harry muttered to Ron. "Remind me to tell you on the train."
"Got it," Ron whispered back, as Percy stormed in, infuriated at the damage that had been done to his picture of Penelope Clearwater.
Soon, everyone was caught up in the chaos of leaving. Professor Elric helped carry bags downstairs. He didn't seem at all bothered by the heavy loads. Harry supposed he'd cast a feather-light charm.
The journey to the station was uneventful. Once they were on the platform, Mr. Weasley pulled Harry aside and made him promise not to go looking for Black. Harry had no intention of looking for someone who was trying to kill him, but he promised anyway.
He had to run to catch the train and he, Ron, and Hermione started looking for an empty compartment. The best they found was at the end of the train, occupied only by a man sitting fast asleep next to the window.
Harry had never seen an adult on the Hogwarts express before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart. The man looked ill and exhausted and he was wearing shabby robes that had been darned in several places.
"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down.
"Professor R. J. Lupin," Hermione replied.
"How d'you know that?"
"It's on his case."
"I guess he's the new Defense teacher," Ron said. "So, anyway, what were you going to tell us?"
Before Harry could answer, the door slid open and Professor Elric limped in. Harry's mouth snapped shut.
"Tell us later," Hermione hissed. Clearly, she hadn't been quiet enough, because Professor Elric spoke up.
"Oh, don't mind me," he said. "If this is about Black, I already know." He pulled a small black book from his suitcase and started reading.
Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry, their eyes wide with shock. Harry explained the conversation he'd overheard and Mr. Weasley's warning. They took the news a lot worse than Harry had.
"Sirius Black escaped Azkaban to come after you?" Hermione asked.
"Probably not," Professor Elric interrupted, not looking up from his book. "The chances of Harry being his only are vanishingly small. He'll go after his other targets, probably the people who imprisoned him, first before he tries to go for Harry. We should be able to catch him before he gets to Harry."
"Professor, are you trying to catch Black?" Hermione asked timidly.
Elric shrugged. "When I've got time."
"You really should take him more seriously," Ron said uncomfortably. "No one's ever got out of Azkaban before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."
Elric sighed, marking his place. "Listen, I'm not gonna tell you not to get into trouble. I'd be one hell of a hypocrite if I did. But if you decide to go after Black or do something stupid like that, tell one of your other friends so someone knows where to find you when it all goes to hell. I'd prefer if you'd tell me, but I can't really expect it."
He put the book away and tilted his head back. "Wake me up when the food cart comes by," he said and fell asleep almost instantly.
They talked about school and the Hogsmeade trip and other little things until one o'clock, when the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.
Professor Elric woke up on his own, fully conscious in a couple of seconds, and bought a couple of cauldron cakes.
They tried to wake up Professor Lupin, but he stayed asleep.
Midafternoon, just as it had started to rain, Draco Malfoy appeared at the door, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
"Well, look who it is," Malfoy drawled. "Potty and the Weasel."
Professor Elric snorted. "Is that really the best you could come up with?" he asked, sounding genuinely curious. "I thought your house was known for it's cunning."
"Who the hell are you?" Malfoy sneered, looking at Professor Elric like he was a bug.
"Professor Edward Elric," Elric replied coolly. "I'm a State Alchemist from Amestris. The Fullmetal Alchemist, to be precise."
Malfoy went pale. "Sorry, sir," he said quickly. "I didn't realize you were there."
Elric rested his head in one hand. "Kid, if you want to get anywhere in life, you need to learn to suck up properly."
Malfoy drew himself up angrily. "The House of Malfoy doesn't suck up to anyone," he nearly snarled. "My father will hear about this."
"And what will you do when you head the House of Malfoy?" Elric asked. "You can't go running to him forever."
Malfoy decided running was his best option.
The rain thickened as the train sped farther north.
"How long 'til we get there?" Elric asked.
"We must be nearly there," Ron said. Just then, the train started to slow down. "Great," Ron said. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast."
"We can't be there yet," Hermione said, checking her watch.
"So why're we stopping?"
The train came to a stop with a jolt and the lamps went out, plunging them into total darkness. They fumbled back to their seats. Next to Professor Lupin, Elric had gone completely still and silent. If not for the fact that he hadn't moved, Harry wouldn't have known he was there.
"I think there's people coming aboard," Ron said.
"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice.
"No," Elric said. "Stay where you are." He sounded tense, almost afraid.
"Why?" Hermione demanded.
"Do you know what's out there?" Elric asked.
"No," Hermione replied. "Do you?"
"No," Elric replied, "which is why I'm staying put."
"Quiet!" a hoarse voice said suddenly.
Professor Lupin appeared to have woken. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.
Professor Lupin's face appeared, illuminated by the handful of flames he had conjured into his hands.
"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice.
Before he could get up, the door slid open.
Looming in the doorway was a cloaked figure, towering to the ceiling. Its face was completely invisible beneath his hood. Harry heard Elric suck in a nervous breath. There was a scabby, rotting hand protruding from under the cloak, which the creature swiftly withdrew.
The thing beneath the hood drew in a long, rattling breath, like it was trying to suck something from the air. A bone-deep chill settled over them. Harry's eyes rolled back in his head. He felt like he was being dragged down to the depths of a frigid ocean.
And then he heard screaming, terrible, terrified screams from far away. He tried to move, to help, but he couldn't move in the thick white fog that was surrounding him.
"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"
Harry opened his eyes. The Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. He heard movement next to him and looked over.
Professor Elric was lying on the floor, twitching, his breath ragged and harsh. Lupin was kneeling next to him, shaking his shoulders, but Elric didn't wake up.