"A Night Lived (Part One)"
It was degrading beyond belief.
Ed pushed his hands into his eyes until little patterns danced around his eyelids randomly and hunched forward. It didn't help much, save for a short distraction from the complete and utter degradation and humiliation he had to suffer. Someone knocked on the door, but he didn't answer.
"Ed, are you all right?" Roy called through the door. "Are you constipated or something?"
Edward decided then and there that he would never ever have sex with another man again. When Roy next came up to him with that "I-Want-Sex" look on his face on his face and shoved his hands in places that felt really good when touched and was about to do something so bad and good, Ed would remember sitting here and trying to get the other man's semen out of his system. And then he'd smack the man and threaten to castrate him.
"Ed? Fullmetal, what's wrong?" Roy asked again. At this, Ed removed his hands from his face and growled.
"I'm trying to shit out something that isn't white," the teen said, gritting his teeth through another bowel movement. "We are never having sex again. Never. You're so...and now I'm full of it! IT! Your semen! It's disgusting!"
The silence on the other side of the door seemed impenetrable. It was like a barrier was keeping any and all sound out. There might've been, too, with them being in a magical setting, after all. Or, he considered, maybe he'd grossed Roy into celibacy.
"At least it's mine," Roy finally replied. There was a loud cough from his side of the door, followed quickly by a series of loud thuds. "Oh, sorry. Snape just choked on his tea. I don't think he knew that we did that. Anyway, lunch is almost over. If it's possible, you'll want to finish within a couple of minutes, unless you want to explain to your teacher in front of your whole class why you were late."
It might've been the fact that Severus now knew that the teen was sleeping with Roy, but regardless of reason behind it, Ed felt his face get hot. He quickly wiped, flushed, and strode over to the mirror.
"You should probably splash your face," it suggested timidly. Ed nodded, taking in his blotchy and over colored face and wondering why the mirrors at Hogwarts insisted on speaking to those it reflected. That, and why they spoke at all. Moreover, he pondered why his had a shy personality. "Or--or something like that..."
"Whatever," Ed murmured, but took the advice anyway. After a few moments, he'd cooled off enough to leave the room.
Severus and Roy were sitting together. That is, they were facing one another and intentionally keeping their attention as far from each other as possible. Roy had his face downcast to several sheets of parchment with red and black ink splashed all over. Severus, meanwhile, was examining a groove in the headboard of his bed with extreme focus on his face. Ed wondered if he could look that focused if he tried. Or quiet, since both were tight-lipped and silent.
"Did everything come out okay?" the latter man asked monotonously, turning his head in such a way that his hair swept across his face. Ed glared pointedly, astounded at how the man had phrased the question. The man cocked an eyebrow in response. "I simply ask out of concern. I'm aware of how demeaning the process can be."
"How did that come to happen?" Roy asked, not looking up. Severus ignored him and went back to examining the headboard. The blond knew neither man would push the topic further, but recognized the tiny gesture of kindness.
And, after nodding his goodbyes and warning the murderous ex-professor to keep out of sight, Ed slung his bag over his shoulder and headed off to his next class.
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
Ed cursed lightly as he made his way to the dungeons. He'd followed Neville - stupidly, in retrospect - until the other boy had asked, quite simply, just what he was doing, and didn't he have potions in the dungeon? He finally made it down the final flight of stairs and ran down the hall, left foot loud on the stone. Just as the door came into view, the bell reverberated loudly off the walls.
"Shit!" he spat, sprinting. He made it to the door, but found himself blocked, along with Ginny's brother, Ron, by a translucent man with a leery, mischievous grin.
"Oh, oh, oh, what have we here?" Peeves asked, eyes fixing on the two. Ed arched his brows.
"I'd tell you to get your eyes checked, but that's not a very doable course of action - what, with you not being carbon-based and all," the blond retorted, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "So, since you can't tell, I happen to be a student here. Here being, of course, there, at the moment. You know, in the room behind you?"
"Sorry, Miss," the sprite-thing cackled. Ed grit his teeth as his shoulders rose. "You know you're in trouble, trouble, trouble, don't you?"
Ron looked like he was about to say something, but Edward hardly cared. He just let out a primal growl.
"Not near as much trouble as you'll be in," he reached for his wand after barely remembering not to use alchemy. Just because he could didn't mean he should, necessarily. "And who you callin' Miss?"
Ron moved out of the corner of his eye. Ed fixed his gaze on the upside-down poltergeist.
"You're either a 'miss' or prefer men," the mini-man snickered. "What other reason is there to look so pretty?"
At this, Ed saw red. Regardless of his...thing...with Roy, by no means did he consider himself gay. He reared back, drawing his right arm behind him to punch the offending ethereal being. About a half a second later, he realized two things: one, he couldn't actually touch a non-organic creature and two, his arm had stopped with a really cringe-worthy sound. He froze, as did Peeves, and shut his eyes, muttering a few expletives under his breath and hoping he hadn't done what he thought he'd done.
A peek behind him revealed that his hopes were in vain. His elbow was nearly embedded in Ron's stomach. The young man's face, he noted grimly, was a mixture of shock and nausea.
As not to cause any further damage, Edward slowly pulled his auto-mail out of his classmate's gut and placed a steadying hand on his arm. Now that the shock was starting to wear off, the redhead was starting to gag violently.
"You okay?" Ed asked, trying to get a good look at the other teen's face. Ron coughed uncontrollably despite his desperate attempts to speak. "Do you, er...need to see the nurse?"
Ron shook his head, eyes clenched shut as tightly as his teeth. Ed knew it'd be awkward, but he had to do this.
"Uh...you really should see her," he attempted lamely. Ron shook his head again, and even Peeves seemed concerned, flipping himself carefully. Ed tried again. "I'm serious - you really should see the nurse. I know I don't look it, but I'm really strong. You might be--"
It was unclear whether it was fortunate or unfortunate, but at that moment, Professor Slughorn opened the door to his room. Ed looked at him from around his house mate's side, horribly aware how obscene and suggestive - sexual or otherwise - this position was, and that rumors were likely already spreading. The old man seemed unfazed.
"Mr. Elric, Mr. Weasley, you're late," he said, running his fingers over the doorknob. "I assume you have an arsenal of excuses for me, boys?"
"I hit him," the blond interrupted, aware how lame he sounded. "Elbowed him, elbowed him - I have to take him to the Hospital Wing." Ron let out a moan of protest. "It was an accident. His stomach--"
"What's the harm in that?" the professor asked, beckoning for them to enter. "Now, then, we're working on--"
"You don't get it," Ed interjected desperately. "I elbowed him in the stomach. Inadvertently, yeah, but it was me who did it. With my right arm. I hit him with my right arm, and you should know exactly what the harm in that is."
Slughorn's face reflected great confusion.
"And that's because?" he asked again, and then seemed to have a revelation about it. "Oh. Oh."
"Yeah, oh," Ed growled. Slughorn whipped around and shuffled to his desk, digging around fiercely. A few seconds later, he produced a vial and brandished it to Ron.
"For your stomach," he said dramatically. "To prevent further internal injury and heal the damage already done."
"Are we missing something?" a Ravenclaw boy asked, looking between Ron and Ed. Ed simply rubbed his right arm and watched Ron gulp down the potion. He seemed to recover right away.
"Nothing, nothing," Slughorn waved a hand in front of him cheerily. "Care for the body and all, you know. Back to the lecture."
Ed nodded and took his place before a cauldron, bristling slightly at the attention evident from all his peers. Ron walked over to Potter and Hermione, still holding his stomach. Probably hurt, he decided. Slughorn cleared his throat.
"And therefore...although a bezoar will slow down the effects of its venom, only this draught can cure an ezbee sting. Get to work."
Ed immediately went to the ingredient counter when he heard this and fought his way to the best ingredients: a slightly overripe fruit, fresh insect wings, cloudy hippogriff urine, short hair from a niffler, and dragon's saliva without bubbles. Upon his return, he noticed Slughorn watching him.
"Mr. Elric, you need a partner," he stated plainly. Ed ignored him in favor of bringing to boil six cups of water and lighting the bottom of his cauldron. "I do mean it, Mr. Elric. Find a partner."
"Odd number of people in this class," he shrugged. "I don't mind working alone."
The professor's expression was somehow understanding and befuddled at the same time. The moment the alchemist turned back to his cauldron, though, he sighed.
"You have such extraordinary eyes," Slughorn murmured. Edward looked up, unsure where this was going.
"Uh...thanks, I think," he responded, moving to measure the saliva. Slughorn was insistent.
"Quite unusual," he continued, standing uncomfortably close to the younger man. Ed tried to slide away without alerting him to this. "In fact, I think I've only seen that shade once. Are you related to Hoenheim Elric, perhaps?"
"I'm working," Ed murmured, carefully splitting a niffler hair. "Is this important?"
"Not to potions, no, but I'd still like to know. After all, Hoenheim was a very influential figure in history. Some say that he's responsible for a great deal of the legislation keeping the magical community secret," Slughorn almost spat in excitement. The blond shredded his ingredients as he listened. "And he was brilliant! His theories on multidimensionality and the make up of the soul were revolutionary! He was a genius!"
"I see," Ed slipped a glance back at the blackboard and began methodically carving out the fruit. Slughorn took a deep breath, and as he did so, Ed noticed Harry and Ron watching them.
"You so resemble him," the professor smiled warmly as he said this. "Are you related?"
"Yeah," Ed mumbled. "He's my father."
"Father?" the man's tone was so strong and lost that Ed had to look up. The rest of the class was silent. Slughorn crossed his arms. "That's not possible. He died over 200 years ago."
"You don't say," the blond said dryly. He measured carefully a half a cup of urine and grimaced. Slughorn apparently knew to stop. The rest of the class, however, whispered to those around them. Ed tried to ignore this. It only got worse when, toward the end of class, Pomfrey came in and insisted he come to the Hospital Wing.
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
"Your potion is almost ready," Severus drawled, checking his watch for the first time since he'd first sat down. Roy, who'd checked his own well over a dozen times in the hour or so the potion had been brewing, let out a long groan and pinched the bridge of his nose. It didn't really help his growing headache, but it certainly made his point. He decided to expound upon it even more.
"I didn't ask for a potion. I don't even know what it does," the general stated plainly, casting a wary glance at the frothy yellow potion. "So..."
"I expect you'll approve," the older man murmured, striding to the cauldron and checking his watch again. He flipped his sleeve up over his hand, gripped a ladle, and dipped out a vial. "I haven't done this since my Mastery. It's since been outlawed in Europe. So far as I know, the United States is the only magical community that yet permits it."
" America? That's comforting," Roy muttered, running a hand through his hair. Snape set the vial in front of him. "Land of the free, home of bravado, and oasis of the idiotic. The same probably holds true for their wizards. So, I don't suppose you'd tell me what this is?"
"It's a de-aging draught," the one-armed man said flatly. Roy blinked his surprise, and Snape curled his upper lip. "I've added enough to de-age you by eleven years, if you drink all of it."
Roy sniffed the liquid a little hesitantly before the other man interrupted him.
"It's only good for the next..." Severus checked his watch again. "...thirty seconds. Drink."
Not knowing why, and not really thinking about it, Roy knocked back the whole vial and screwed up his face. It tasted like earwax in liquid form. He could've vomited, had he not the presence of mind.
Then he waited. And waited. And the bell rang.
"This might come as a shock to you, but nothing happened. Why's that?" he asked, reaching for his overcloak. Snape shrugged indifferently. "I would love answers. Or, at the very least, some details on the effects of the potion. I am desperate for details, actually. Details would make me positively gleeful."
"I've never actually seen it work before. It may, judging by its composition, take effect in a few hours or when you sleep. It could also be affected by your blood type, preexisting conditions, diet, physical condition, and any number of other factors," Snape replied, voice low. "As I am not a doctor, I can't say how your body will react to it, but I can assure you that it will cause a change. And don't you have a class to teach right now?"
Roy scoffed and nodded, internally worried. He'd just swallowed something that someone had found dangerous enough to outlaw in all of Europe. Not only that, but it was given to him by a murderer. And he had no idea what it was going to do to him. So, despite his mind screaming things very opposite to him doing so, he simply tugged his own bag over his shoulder and left, heading straight across the hall to his own class.
Surprisingly, every one of his students was gathered by his desk, a few speaking in hushed tones hurriedly to each other. This was new. Usually, his sixth-year class was laden down with skippers, procrastinators, and loudmouths. He wondered briefly if this was the bell to end class, somehow.
"What's going on?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "I'm not late, but you're all here. I'm not complaining, but why?"
"We just got out of History of Magic class," a Ravenclaw girl started, voice quivering. "We're studying Amestris. Professor Binns says that there are alchemists there."
"Alchemists?" Roy pondered aloud, scrunching up his forehead. "Yes, there are alchemists in Amestris."
"So," Ginny Weasley, a red-haired girl with a proclivity towards procrastination, pressured. "This means that you probably knew one. I seem to recall one called Zhao Mustang. Same surname, I notice. And you're from Amestris."
"What's so interesting about alchemists?"
Roy felt a twitch on his scalp just as he said this and rubbed it. There was nothing there, but the twitching didn't desist. It bothered him, like a little fly. Two flies, really; one on each side. And his left ear. And most of his right leg, too. He wondered if someone had jinxed him.
"They're really dangerous and really strong. I've never met one myself, but they sound a little scary. Some people here are terrified of them," Ginny cupped her hands and leaned it, staring at him through her lashes. Or attempting to. How could anyone see through anything that thick? "And there are all these terrible things they're said to have done. Even You-Know-Who is said to have worked with alchemists. And...and your hair is getting longer."
The last part of her explanation, sadly, was the only thing Roy really understood. He'd noticed around the word 'terrible' that his bangs were sneakily reaching for his chin. The alchemist, more certain than ever that someone had jinxed him, let out an irritated huff and tucked the rapidly lengthening hair behind his ears, clearing his throat.
"Yes, my hair does seem to be growing. But I think we can ignore that," he murmured, eerily calm despite being aware that his hair was at his shoulders now. "What is your question?"
Ginny bit her lip for a moment.
"Your name. Mustang. There's an alchemist named Zhao Mustang. Who, uh...does alchemy. Are you related?" she asked, shifting and unable, it seemed, to take her eyes off his face. The rest of the class had apparently taken their seats during the discussion, and the absence of body heat/little footfall noises from their shifting seemed to make her uneasy. The redhead reminded him of a cornered cat. "Or are you maybe...him?"
"My name is Roy Mustang," the alchemist explained as his hair finally stopped growing. "As for relations, I don't believe any of them are named Zhao. And I don't think they can do alchemy."
"I see," Ginny said, evidently having grown comfortable enough again to be skeptical. "And you? Can you do alchemy?"
Now his eye socket was bugging him. It felt fuzzy and dark. How it felt dark he had no idea. It just seemed the right word. Dark. Dank, sweaty, blind as ever...maybe his eyebrow was emulating his scalp.
"I can perform basic transmutations that I'm not particularly fond of," he said, not considering the words to be a lie. The general hated basic transmutations. "It's a requirement in my profession."
"And that profession would be?" Ginny asked. Roy glared in response.
"Something we'll be studying in November. Go back to your seat," he muttered. "I'd give you points for tenacity, but that'd be moot. Instead, I'm taking ten points off of Gryffindor for conspicuous and overt tactlessness."
"That doesn't seem fair," a woman's voice came from the direction of the door. He turned to send Madam Pomfrey a glower. While he did this, he noticed a blood stain on her sleeve and an oil one on her abdomen. "I do need to speak with you later, but before that, why would you punish curiosity?"
"Curiosity asks. That demand was an accusation," Roy corrected, hair falling out from its place behind his ear and falling over his face again. "And she's lucky is was only House Points."
"You have much of which to be accused," the nurse said, smiling at him. She seemed oblivious to the rapid and breathy whispers flitting about the room in response. Ginny shot him a knowing look. "Very little of which, I gather, is actually true. But really, I do need to speak with you. Could you come up to the Hospital Wing when you finish your lesson?"
"Be right up," he agreed, shooing her away. Once she'd left, he reached into his desk drawer silently and brought out the stack of papers he'd graded the previous night. "Now, then. My country has been at war off and on for my entire life. No town, no city, no county has gone without seeing the horror of a battle. Your scores," he gestured to the stack violently. "are atrocious. My country goes to war every few years, and I can call this atrocious. It is my fondest wish that you understand the implications of this."
The class, mostly Hufflepuffs, he had noticed, hung their heads. The Raveclaws gaped at him, and the Gryffindors seemed indifferent. It was like watching new soldiers at orientation being scolded. He continued, face feeling as though it were melting.
"But one and only one of you has managed to get a 100 on her test. Therefore, Ginny Weasley will teach this class while I go to the Hospital Wing," he stated, taking in the look on the girl's face with relish. Her jaw could be stretching, it was so wide. With his own characteristic smirk, he turned to the door and, quite simply, left.
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
"So, why's he have to be here?" Ed asked, irritated, as he sat across from a silent Madam Pomfrey as she sipped her tea. Why, he thought adamantly, was it always sipping? People in England never chugged or slurped or even just plain drank their tea - they sipped! Even the men! He wanted nothing more than to grab a cup of the opaque liquid and just chug to see what they'd do.
"It's rather important," the nurse finally murmured around her teacup. "Among other things, it seems someone jinxed him. His hair is growing so fast that if I don't stop it, he'll have his own fur coat."
Ed, upon hearing this, pictured Roy with a beard, mustache, mullet, and arm hair as thick as warmers. The image alone gave him chills.
"But you do want him here for something else," the blond pointed out. "Something that, in some way, involves me. What is it?"
Pomfrey remained silent again, rubbing at the oil stain on her robe absently. How she'd gotten said stain while just examining the attachment at his shoulder was absolutely beyond him. It seemed beyond her, too, considering the look of surprise and confusion that had graced her features when it had happened. And now, she kept touching and spreading the stain.
After a few minutes, Ed threw his head back in a sigh, watching the moving portraits from his upside-down vantage point. One of them had a salt lick in his picture. Just seeing it made him swallow - which was far from comfortable in his position. Another observed him back over a large yellow and violet quill. Even this new activity grew dull after a little while, so the blond heaved himself forward with a slight groan and held his head for a moment to quell the minute headache. Once it was gone, he reached toward his bag.
"Oh, Professor Mustang," Pomfrey suddenly breathed, setting down her teacup and slowly standing up. "You stopped the hex. That's impressive."
Roy's hair, Ed noted, was obscene. It wasn't like he had no experience with long hair - his own reached his shoulder blades when down anyway - but seeing his superior officer in the military sporting the kind of hair a teenager would choose to wear as the lamest rebellion against his parents possible. And, for some strange, unknown reason, his collar was wet.
"What happened to you?" the teen asked, crossing his legs and leaning forward until his back felt stretched and comfortable. Roy lifted his hands to brush some of the hair off of his cheeks.
"I drank something someone gave me. I think it might've been spiked," the man replied. Ed noticed that his voice seemed just a little different - just a tad lighter or higher or something like that. "At least, that's what I think happened."
"Well, let's see the damage," Pomfrey said in a businesslike tone. Roy complied, parting his hair for her and turning in such a way that Ed had no way of seeing his face. And he was fine with that; he didn't have to see the other man's face. In fact, he didn't even want to see the other man's face. But he could see Pomfrey's, and hers was changing drastically with surprise. "There's...I mean, it couldn't possibly be...but it is. It's impossible, but there it is."
"There what is?" Ed asked, finally standing and striding toward the two. The woman looked like she might faint.
"He's been de-aged," she just barely managed before pulling out her wand. It traveled over his shoulders and chest and shot out a beam of white light twice. "De-aged by eleven years. He's...at least, physically, he's a...but it's impossible. He can't be a teenager again."
The Fullmetal Alchemist rushed by this point, nearly sprinting the remaining seven feet. He shook his head hard and felt his eyes go so wide that his eyelids actually hurt with how much they bulged. he must've looked stupid, but he really couldn't care less. He caught sight of Roy's face and his jaw dropped.
The change was...significant. Apparently, Roy had aged quite well, but the face before him made him stare and regret that the man had to age at all. Though even Ed had to admit that the older man had always been reasonably attractive, the change made him look just plain hot. His shoulders were leaner, his eye shaplier, and his forehead perfectly smooth. The teenager could hardly believe his eyes, let alone his mind.
"No way," the teen whispered, reaching up and cupping the face of the man he knew. Roy's hands dropped to his side and Ed couldn't help but push it back off his face. "No fucking way. How old are you now?"
"Nineteen, if it's eleven years," Roy answered with his characteristic smirk. It did strange things to his younger face: no lines, no dips in his cheeks...just firm skin, Flawless. White. He looked Xingian. He looked fucking good and young. "You like?"
Ed, not knowing how to respond, ran his fingers through the older (if only slightly older) man's hair. It was soft. His hair'd been smooth before, but now it was soft. If he kept this up, he could seriously get obsessed with it. He'd stop stroking if he could. And he could. It wasn't like he had to keep - he wrenched his hands away, wiping them on his pants. Roy's eyebrow arched into his hairline.
"Your hair's shit," the blond spat in a hurry. He could feel his ears heating up and praised his own lengthy hair for covering them.
"You're taking this well!" Pomfrey exclaimed, sinking into her chair. "Dear God, someone slipped you a de-aging draught and you're-you're smirking and arguing about hair! What if it had been poison?! What was it in?!"
"Bourbon. Or perhaps the rum. It was probably the rum, now that I think about it," Roy responded. Ed sent him a look. "Almost definitely the rum."
"How much alcohol do you regularly consume?" the nurse asked, and then reconsidered her words. "That doesn't matter! Where did you get the rum?"
"Someone sent it," Roy shrugged. "I thought it was from a friend - it's a popular brew and label back in Amestris. The seal wasn't even broken. But that's the only thing I didn't purchase on my own, so I'm assuming that it's what contained the potion."
"You're supposed to be a general," she said weakly. "Why don't you check if your mail is safe?"
"The seal wasn't broken," the general pressured. Ed twitched. "Hence, I'd checked. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?"
Pomfrey held her head in her hands, shaking it mutely. She was either laughing or on the verge of tears, both of which were terrifying prospects to the blond Roy seemed not to care either way, simply pouring himself a cup of tea and drinking it around his hair. The woman groaned.
"As if it wasn't bad enough with you two just having sex," she muttered. "Now Professor Mustang has taken an illegal potion and become a teenager. It's extremely dangerous and hasn't been tested extensively. Did I mention it's illegal?"
"You sound like Black," Ed raised an eyebrow. Pomfrey let out a hysterical laugh.
"Dear God! Sirius Black!" she exclaimed, laughing loudly. "You've spent time with that man?! I've been subjected to his presence since I was just beginning to Heal. He was in the first first-year class I ever worked with. Never before have I seen so many accidents having to do with dungbombs and jumpers! Never before, never since...please don't let him rub off on you! Roy is a far cry from Remus Lupin. I don't know how the world would manage with two Black-like entities."
Roy sent Ed a look that might've said I-neither-know-nor-care-who-Black-is or what the hell is a jumper? Ed assumed it was the latter, shrugging in response. Pomfrey continued to laugh, stomach jiggling with the motion. Roy sighed.
"So, is there any particular reason that you're laughing so hard?" the general asked. Ed wanted to ask himself.
Pomfrey cleared her throat, the laughs and giggles dying down.
"No, no," she managed. "I should be worrying over your health, not reminiscing about the days of Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and James Potter. Let me see your face before anything."
"Yes Ma'am," Roy answered. He knelt down to her level and allowed her to poke and prod at his face. She even went so far as to pull his eye patch off and examine the socket.
Except it wasn't just a socket. Ed could see that. The nurse's fingers ran across an eyelid that hadn't been there before and he took a deep breath, batting her hand away. The woman sent him a scandalized look, but the blonde's superior ignored her.
Ed followed him to the mirror above the sink - which, for whatever reason, was called a washbasin by all his classmates. The skin around his eye was paler than the rest of it, but he had an eyelid and beneath it, an eye. A real eye. He waited impatiently for him to open it, and when he did it was white and lifeless. Probably blind. Almost definitely blind. Roy blinked a couple of times.
"It's there," the older man murmured, running his fingers over the lid. "I can't see out of it, but it's there. How perfect."
"I suppose that makes sense," Pomfrey sighed. "The potion restores you physically to the condition you were at that age. Major accidents and injuries like yours wouldn't be healed no matter what. You'll have the eye, but you won't see out of it again. There's nothing we can do about it. Are you okay with that?"
Roy nodded.
"Good, then," she said, standing up and pulling him into a covered area. "Now, then, let's proceed with a physical exam."
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
Ed's jaw dropped as Pomfrey repeated what she'd said.
"Professor Mustang will be confined to your rooms for three days, at the very least," she said matter-of-factly. "That way, any changes he undergoes won't detract from the learning environment or shock anyone beyond safe limits."
Roy nodded. How he was taking this so well was beyond the younger alchemist. Pomfrey checked something on a clipboard and looked between the two.
"I also don't want you two having sex for the next few days," she ordered. Roy didn't react, but Ed sighed. He didn't know whether it was out of relief or disappointment. "Even after the three days are over, I'd advise use of protection. Condoms would be best. You can get them at Philostrate's Pharmaceuticals in Hogsmeade. May I assume that Professor Mustang is the one on top?"
"Yes, and you would be correct," Roy confirmed. Ed felt his face heating. "You want to run tests?"
"Just on Edward for the moment," she said. "I'm assuming he was a virgin before you two...slept together. You, on the other hand, clearly wouldn't have been."
After a few minutes of complicated Latin phrases and strange colors emerging from stranger places, Pomfrey seemed content. She put her wand away and scribbled something onto her board again. Ed rubbed his head.
"So?" he asked. "Anything wrong?"
"No," she answered. "Everything is in order. No reason to worry."
Roy chuckled.
"Does that mean I'm clean too?" he inquired. When Pomfrey nodded, he ran a hand through his hair and sent Ed a smirk. "Good. Are we free to go?"
"Straight to your rooms," she said. "Is that clear?"
"Yeah," Ed muttered. "Clear."
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
A day off. Three days after Roy'd been de-aged, Ed was given a day off with all the other seventh-years. And he had nothing to do. His options were either to spend it with Roy or to study somewhere quiet. The former choice seemed like it wouldn't be too much fun.
Just as well, he thought when the library came into view. It was crowded and noisy for a study area. So, heaving his bag onto his shoulder, the blond started up toward his room.
But a few students got in his way.
Oh, shit.
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
Damn Ed's empathy.
Roy crunched his hand into his blind and covered eye as he furiously wrote up his lesson plans for the next day. For two days, two long and boring days, he'd been stuck in his rooms without leave. All because Ed had empathized with a criminal who happened to have a Mastery in potions - and now Roy had to suffer.
He had to admit, though, that Snape could be worse. At least he was quiet. It kind of balanced out Ed's tantrums. And he didn't have any annoying habits or anything, and he wasn't demanding...
The alchemist took a moment to glance back at the letter his brother had sent. It was just what he needed in this situation. Lai just had to time his response to when his dear older brother was trapped in his own rooms.
Zhao,
(Hahaha! I'm SO not calling you 'da geh' anymore!)
Man, who wants to learn about Amestris? We're all sand and war out here. And what kinda name is Hogwarts? Sounds a bit fishy, if you ask me – and I'm saying you did ask me. So don't complain about it.
Honestly, Zhao, when was the last time you fucking wrote?!?! I mean, it's been HOW many years since you left to join the military? I didn't even recognize your handwriting, asshole! When I told Yuan she looked like she was gonna faint. YOUR FAULT. She's your older sister! (Mine too but that's not my point) She's getting married, so you need to come back here next summer to give her away. I'm not "allowed" to. Damn tradition.
And that presumably HOT YOUNG BLOND YOU HAVE DOWN THERE ALL TO YOURSELF?! What the hell are you waiting for?! Bang her! And someone pulled a fast one on you. Nothing can show you what you want most, dumbass.
OH, AND GUESS WHAT?! RIZA TELLS ME THE ONLY SUBORDINATE YOU HAVE WITH YOU HAPPENS TO BE A TEENAGE BOY. HMM HMM. Are you switching teams?
I'll fix what I said before, bang HIM. If you still believe the shit about your desire to be with him.
Oh yeah, I read something in the paper about you losing your eye when Fuhrer Bradley disappeared. Tabloid crap, right? Oh, wait, Riza told me you really did lose your eye. She even showed me a picture. HUH WHY DIDN'T I LEARN ABOUT THIS?! HOW STRANGE.
Yuan actually DID faint when she saw it. I don't think she hit her head or anything, but she's been pressuring me to go see you since. You know she won't travel far on her own, LAZY HAG.
Huh? What's this? Riza's going in November? Well that won't do. I'll have to accompany her. You know, to make sure you don't KNOCK HER UP, JACKASS. I bet a chick could get pregnant from just TOUCHING you.
Hey, another reason to bang that subordinate. Guys don't get pregnant. Whoa, weird image.
YOU AND YUAN, REALLY. How am I related to you two again? Oh, that's right. Our parents SOMEHOW managed to CONCEIVE a third child ELEVEN YEARS AFTER THEIR SECOND.
Please tell me I'm adopted. Mom and Dad won't care – THEY'RE DEAD. So I AM adopted, right? YUAN'S FORTY. There's NO WAY I AM 21 YEARS YOUNGER THAN MY SISTER.
Hey, old man, I forgot. I was digging through your old room (THAT YOU HAVEN'T USED FOR TWELVE YEARS BUT MOM MADE US KEEP AS-IS). ICK I FOUND AN OLD CONDOM. OOOOLLLLLLDDDD. It looks older than you, but I don't know SINCE YOU'RE SO FUCKING OLD. And it's USED. HOW ICKY IT IS.
Should I frame it and send it?
ARGH. FUCKING NIAO. Did you TRAIN this owl to screech every couple of minutes? And why are we sending letters with owls anyway? There's this thing called a POST OFFICE, you know! They deliver letters and – guess what – don't even talk to you.
Scotland seems interesting. I can't wait until November. OWLS. REALLY. Sounds like fun.
Okay, I sound like a bitch. I'm just gonna say one more thing before I sign off and send this MAGNIFICENT BIRD OF THE NIGHT on its way:
GET FUCKING LAID, ZHAO.
Okay, see you in November. Write back. I think I like the owl. I've named him Bo.
Lai
Roy held his head and pulled on his hair. Hell. Stupid Lai. Of course he'd turn the letter into a statement. And fill it with sex. He pulled out a sheet of parchment and put quill to paper.
Lai-
ASS. I was SERIOUS. (I'm a bit scared that you were too, so I'll leave it at that.)
Yuan's getting married, huh? That's ironic – for reasons I'm not going to tell you right now. You don't deserve to know. Tell her I said congrats and all that stuff.
I thought you didn't go for older women. Riza IS 24 you know. WOW FIVE WHOLE YEARS. (You're rubbing off on me! Damn it.)
Not everyone needs to get laid every night, you hornball. Look at poor Yuan. I think she's still a virgin. Maybe we don't all need to go to that extreme, but...
Oh, God. I am NOT discussing Yuan's sex life. No.
A condom, huh? No, don't frame it. Just bring it with you in November and I'll put it in my wallet next to my pictures of you, Yuan, and Maes's daughter Elicia. Won't that be nice? Sibling, sibling, godchild, condom, parents...
BLOND SUBORDINATE WHO IS AN INCREDIBLE LAY (Riza, perhaps?)
All nestled in with my money. THEY USE A COIN SYSTEM HERE. My wallet is useless. Useless!
Right, then. I've told "Bo" to nest in your hair if you don't write back soon enough. Oddly, he only pays attention when I call him Syphilis. I take it he got that from you?
Right. Bye.
ROY. Get it right, bastard. Zhao is my MIDDLE NAME.
Roy looked his letter over for a few seconds before tying it to Bo/Syphilis's leg and tossing him out the window. He returned to his lesson plans, but in seconds buried his head in his arms. This was so dull.
A knock came from the door, so Roy picked up his head. Definitely Ed. He would knock with things so quiet.
"It's unlocked," Roy called, bowing his head again. When it opened and closed, he ran his hand through his recently cut hair. "You have no idea how bored I am."
Ed didn't answer. This was normal for them, though. His footsteps approached the desk, and then stopped. He must've really wanted to be quiet, judging by the care he was taking. No doubt the thud he heard a moment later was his bag falling onto the floor. Roy sighed.
"I can't wait to get out of here," he confessed, moving his hand from his eye to his cheek. He tapped his quill against the paper, wishing desperately for a pen. He'd have to smuggle some into the school. "Being stuck in a room for three days straight...it didn't sound so bad at first. And your goddamn fènghuáng hasn't even bothered to look at me without considering bloodshed. Human flesh must be a delicacy to her, if it means anything."
Roy heard Ed fall to the bed with a faint 'thump' and a few images of what they'd done on said bed danced in his mind. He smirked, chuckling. It was good having another person in the room who wasn't Snape, particularly when he hadn't had sex for four days when the image of it was right in front of him.
"I don't believe that's your bed," he murmured, adjusting his eye patch. Eventually, he might get out of the habit. "Isn't that right?"
Ed leapt to his feet at this. Roy tsked.
"Not officially, anyway," he continued. "Although I suppose it's a shared room. Why not a shared bed?"
"Professor Mustang, who do you think you're talking to?" a voice that was clearly not male asked coolly. Roy froze. "Are you married?"
"Nnn... Yes," he answered, heart racing. "I am, Miss Weasley. And I thought I was speaking to my spouse, to answer your first question. I don't believe this is your free period, either. What are you doing in my private chambers?"
"It smells funny in here," Ginny answered. Roy finally turned just in time to see her drop onto the bed on her back again. She kicked a bare leg up and twisted her foot absentmindedly. "What is it? It reminds me of something---I know! It's jasmine!"
"Yes," Roy answered. He could see up her skirt from his angle. But he could ignore it. "Where I'm from, jasmine is a associated with fortune. I guess I couldn't completely ignore the customs I was raised with, though I tried. In Xing, we sprinkle crushed jasmine tea powder around a room to dispel bad luck. With everything that's happened in Amestris recently and the things I've heard about this place, I thought it would be best."
Ginny's foot dropped back onto the mattress. She brought the other up, effectively blocking his view. That might've been good.
"Xing, huh?" she muttered. Roy turned back to his plans. He was almost done. "Ah, well. So, why've you been in quarantine?"
"I was slipped something," he answered relatively truthfully. He underlined the last word and stretched. "Pomfrey thought it might've been dangerous. Besides, she didn't know how the potion would change anything, so she had me stay in here to prevent...complications."
The redhead sighed heavily and shifted.
"Couldn't have been too bad. You've got awesome rooms," she said. Roy rolled his eyes. "And a ready and willing wife here for you, right? So the last couple of days couldn't have been all that horrible - ooh, and this bed's nice and comfy..."
"I haven't had sex this whole time," he said. When he looked at her, her eyebrows were in her hair. "I haven't been able to buy any protection. And this really isn't your business, is it?"
"I'm skipping transfiguration," Ginny informed him, flopping onto her stomach and cupping her chin. "Professor McGonagall has no idea. She probably thinks I'm off banging someone. As long as I keep my grades up, though, she doesn't care."
"Charming," Roy stated archly. "Who are you off banging?"
"I don't know," she kicked her legs against the mattress. Man, she was twitchy. "I've been talking to Ed Elric lately. Probably him. Besides, I do rather like him."
"Good luck getting him in bed," he chuckled. She pursed her lips. "He's not interested in women yet - and I would know. I've known him since he was eleven years old. He's never so much as glanced at a girl with half the interest he has for books."
"Ten galleons says I can kiss him by tomorrow night," the girl challenged. "In front of you. Deal?"
"No," Roy declined politely. "I'm not going to bet on Edward's lips."
"Party pooper," she pouted. "Wait...you look different. Come here."
"My room, my rules," he declared, but stood up and stood before her anyway. She beckoned him down to her level, and he complied. Her eyes widened. "You're not a very good guest. So, what's so different?"
"Your face," Ginny whispered, running a finger down his cheek. "It's disgusting! You're actually hot!"
"Thank you," Roy answered, standing up and propping his hands on his hips. "But regardless, those sentiments are inappropriate. Technically, I'm about twice your age. It would probably be illegal for me to urge you on."
Ginny glared up at him.
"I'm fifteen."
"I'm thirty," he countered. There's something almost grief inspiring about this admission. The general met her eyes.
"You must be awfully popular," she smiled inexplicably. Roy raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, yes, terribly popular," he confirmed, sitting across from her on the other bed. The bed used by Severus now. "I've perfected my technique. Compliment the girl - hair, jewelry, clothes. Fake modesty. Hold her hand, take her to the door, grope her incessantly, take her to bed. Simple as that."
"The women must line up to spend the night with you," she cocked her head, giggling. He hates teenager giggles. "You want to hear my technique?"
"Let's," he agreed, fishing in one of his pockets. Ginny takes a deep breath.
"Mine's simple," she explained. "Skimpy clothes, flirtation...if you want sex, be sex."
"The men must line up to spend the night with you," Roy deadpanned. "Honestly. Teenagers. You just want as much sex as you can get."
"As opposed to what in adults?" she asked. Roy sent her a smirk.
"We want the best sex we can get," he said. Ginny bit her lip.
"Whatever. I don't need to think about that," she said flippantly. "You so didn't look like that the other day. What happened?"
"I told you," Roy sighed. "Someone slipped me something. Pomfrey says it was a de-aging draught. Regardless, as I seem to have forgotten to ask, just what are you doing in my rooms?"
"I hexed you," the redhead confessed. Roy raised an eyebrow. "I-I'm really good at it. I'm really good at most things, actually, but really good at hexing. I thought that maybe I'd done something horrible, or that you're really weak to magic or something and had gotten hurt."
Roy contemplated this for a moment, looking out the window. Oddly, one of the clouds had taken the shape of a skull. Rather disturbing, actually. And it was the only cloud in the sky, too.
"So, why'd you hex me?" he asked, looking back at her. "And no more reallys."
"Because you're an arse," she said. "Simple as that. You're an arse – absolutely pretentious, condescending, and---and---and you know everything we do! How does someone know everything people do, anyway?! It's so not fair."
Roy wanted to laugh, but he knew that'd ruin the image she'd created. And he liked it. He stole another glance at the skull cloud, and then looked back to her.
"You remind me of Edward," he managed evenly. "Except that his words were more like "ass" and "god-complex", if Maes got the message right. Oh, wait…he calls me a bastard, not an ass. How could I forget?"
"You're weird," Ginny murmured, smiling. "But I like you. Tell me more about yourself."
The cloud outside was turning green. And the mouth was opening. But damn was it slow. He stretched out and rested his elbows on his legs.
"Not much I can say," he admitted. It was true – he wasn't allowed to tell her much. Not until he and Ed were "outed" as military officials. And married. "Roy Mustang, age 30. Xingian. Left eye is a bother. One brother, one sister, dead parents. Temporary Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts. That's about it, really."
Ginny let out a throaty sigh.
"No fair," she growled. Then she actually pouted. "What kind of secrets are so secret you wouldn't share them with a teenage girl?"
"Generally, the secret kind," Roy deadpanned, shaking his hair out of his eyes. "Teenage girls have a slight reputation for spreading everything they hear wherever they go, after all. Even the charming, intelligent, class-cutting ones do it."
"I'm glad you think I'm so great."
The redhead popped her bottom lip. Roy was actually getting used to this expression, and thought – strangely enough – that it suited her. He glanced out the window and decides that, as the cloud had now sprouted a snake out of its mouth, it might not be an actual cloud.
"What?" Roy asked as Ginny glowered at him. "You asked; I told. Simple as that."
The two were silent for a few moments. Ginny played around with her hair, still just barely covering up the pout. She flipped over again and inspected her nails in an obvious effort to ignore him completely. The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Roy reached for a book.
"THE CASTLE IS ENTERING LOCKDOWN. DEATH EATERS HAVE ENTERED THE SCHOOL. ALL ROOMS WILL LOCK IN SIXTY SECONDS. THE CASTLE IS ENTERING LOCKDOWN."
McGonagall's voice cut through the room just as the windows changed back to stone, and the lights went out. Someone threw open the door, and Ginny screamed. It closed a second later, and it was completely silent until the locks clicked. Then, it was just breathing.
"No lights," Roy commanded firmly. He closed his eye in the darkness. "Stay still. Name, year - whoever came in a minute ago goes first."
"Dennis Creevy," a timid voice managed. "Th-third year."
"Ginny Weasley, sixth year," Ginny's voice was breathy. "Professor--" Dennis interrupts.
"I know we're safe, but--"
"What if they get in here?"
"Ginny, you're--"
"Eek! What touched me?!" A thump.
Roy sat back, patiently waiting for the two to calm down.
"It was me! Just me!"
"Don't do it again!"
"I won't!"
"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God..."
"I know."
"Oh God, oh--that was my ankle, Dennis!"
"I-I didn't do anything!"
"What?!"
"Quiet," Roy barked. "I want absolute silence. If your heartbeat is too loud, I'll stop it. Do not protest. Just obey."
The teenagers were silent again. Roy counted the seconds before opening his eye, content with the tiny amount he could see with the light from under the door. Outlines, really. Snape, Roy assumed, stealthily shut the well-oiled closet door. Near it, though, another figure - neither Dennis nor Ginny - moved.
The general's heart skipped.
Now that he was concentrating, he distinctly heard air moving in the corner. Someone was hiding - probably a Death Eater.
"Ginny, Dennis," he murmured lowly, pulling his glove on as he did so. "Come sit on the bed."
"We are on the bed!" the teens chorused.
"This bed. Now," he ordered. As they scurried over - no protests, thankfully - he activated the array on the back of his glove, pressing it into his thigh to keep from shining any light. He knew he had to be careful while he did this. If he took too much air away from this guy and he was a student...well, he didn't have to worry. The anonymous man gasped and growled.
"What the--?"
Ginny clutched his sleeve tightly. Whoever was in the corner continued to gasp for air and fumble around. It only took a few more seconds before he stopped breathing altogether and a small thump came from the corner. The redhead's hand shook hard. Roy brushed it off.
"Wh-what just...was that...what'd you do...that was you, right? What did you do?" she asked, fumbling her words. Roy shushed her as Dennis simply trembled.
"Close your eyes," he demanded. He assumed they did, snapping his fingers.
The resulting explosion, although as quiet as he could make it, muffled Ginny and Dennis's screams. As the remaining embers lit the entrance, Roy slipped on a robe and tapped the students' shoulders. Lihst shrieked at him dissonantly.
"We need to get out of this room," he pressured, standing up. The two remained on the bed, staring at him incredulously. He rolled his eyes. "That's an order. We'll go together - I'm sure one of you knows a binding spell. I can protect you if you're close."
"Why did you blow up the wall?" Ginny asked, breathing hard. "We were safe."
"No, we weren't," Roy sent a wary glance at the face down man in the corner. "Only Dennis came through the door. That guy got in some other way. That means that more could. If we don't move, we'll probably be killed."
Dennis nodded in understanding, but the redhead stared on.
"But we were--we could've--I...I," she trailed off, and then gripped her hair, looking distinctly like she could rip it all out. "Bugger. Oh, bugger."
"I do have some idea what bugger means, Miss Weasley," Roy said lightly, helping Dennis to his feet. When he offered his hand, Ginny smacked it away.
"Arse!" she stood without his help and muttered something in Latin, and something tight formed around his neck. Collars materialized around Dennis's and her own moments later. "These make it so we can't be more than a meter and a half away from each other at any given time. If you try, you know, to get away..."
Roy tugged his own collar. It made him feel a little nauseas.
"I give. What happens if I try to ditch?"
"Off with your head," she said, making a gesture in front of her that caused her breasts to bounce. Roy wondered if it was wrong of him to notice such things. "It's nicknamed 'Filus Maria' - Mary's Leash."
Roy nodded, sighing heavily.
"All right. Dennis, light the way," he commanded. "Ginny, you and I are going to do anything and everything to protect us."
Dennis and Ginny nodded in understanding, both beginning to walk toward the door. Roy stopped them immediately, not willing to risk losing his head right away.
"Lihst!" he called into the room. The teenagers both tugged at his hands. "I know you hate me, but you have to try to listen. Do not let yourself get hurt, okay?"
"Who are you talking to?" Ginny whispered, pulling herself closer.
"A pretty young chick," he replied. "She has a tendency to destroy my bed and sit on a teenager's lap. I have no idea why she even sticks around with me."
"Your wife?" she asked.
"Who in their right mind names a human Lihst?" Roy said, rolling his eyes. "I'm astounded Alphonse could even come up with it."
"Not human?" Dennis whimpered, breathing harder. "Then...what is she?"
"A fènghuáng," the general responded. "Who hates me."
"That was Chinese," Ginny whispered, stepping closer. "I thought you were from Amestris. How do you know Chinese?"
"It's the official language of Xing," he murmured. "So, having been born and raised Xingian, I learned to speak it along with English."
"What is she?" Dennis demanded. Roy sighed heavily.
"I already told you. She's a fènghuáng chick," he turned his attention to the darkened room. "You're my guest. I want you safe."
He hoped he was talking to the phoenix.
"All right," the officer coughed. "Let's head out."
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
"My, my. It's already been fifteen minutes. Time flies when you're having fun in a closet," Sirius drawled from Ed's right. It could have been from in front of him, but he wasn't sure.
Remus, someplace equally indiscernible to Ed, sighed and chuckled at once. Something rattled in his general area.
"Sirius, you can't go out and save the world...or the school, as the case may be," he murmured. "You're nowhere near drunk enough. You need more alcohol in your system before I can let you take on so many Death Eaters."
"Yeah, I know. If I'm gonna die, I wanna be drunk. And you haven't let me have anything today," the other man whined. He then sniffed wildly. "Hey - I smell Mrs. Norris. Moony. Tell me why a cat that's gotta be at least half a century old can save the school while I - a clearly evolutionarily superior being in every way - can't."
Hermione's hair, Ed decided, was trying to kill him. He sneezed unpleasantly in it. An elbow hit his ribs.
"Sirius," she began sternly. "All Mrs. Norris does for this school is control the vermin population."
"And spy for Filch," Ron muttered.
"And besides," Remus added. "You're not dressed well enough to save the school. The pictures would look terrible."
Harry chuckled quietly and sighed.
If only there had been a few less people in the library, Ed rued. Then he wouldn't have run into Potter's group and, subsequently, Remus Lupin and Sirius Dog-Man Black. He had no idea which was worse.
"I could validate my midlife crisis with this," Sirius said, sounding much, much too excited about the prospect.
"You're not allowed to have a midlife crisis. We've discussed this," Remus riposted.
There was a period of silence after this.
"So, who wanted to interrogate me about what?" Ed asked with as cheery a tone as he could manage. "It just seems so convenient that I'm stuck here with you, so let's hear it."
Someone else sneezed.
"I was curious about your arm," Hermione murmured, turning her head. Hair attempted to go up his nose. "What's wrong with it?"
"Wrong?"
"You really didn't notice," Harry said from his right. "I stuck your hand in a bucket of water right after we got in here. I was wondering when you might figure that out. So, why couldn't you tell? And why is it so hard?"
"You're going to rust his brace," Remus warned. Ed made a mental note to thank him later.
"Brace?" Ron asked. "No, no. He's strong and his arms are skinny. Remember, I had his elbow in my stomach earlier. I would know."
"It's plated," Ed offered. "That's why it's so unnoticeable."
Someone jiggled the doorknob.
"Bugger," Sirius muttered. "Bloody non-magicable lock. I want to go out there."
"I can't say I've ever heard of plated braces," Hermione said archly, ignoring Sirius. "And you seem to have full control of it. So, why do you need it?"
"My bones aren't right," Ed licked his lips. This was nerve-wracking. "They're weaker than most people's. But only in my right arm and left leg. There aren't any medicines for the condition in Amestris, so the doctor just gave me a plated brace."
"Uh huh," Hermione sounded unconvinced.
"Shhh," Sirius hissed. "Someone's coming."
Hermione pressed back against Ed's chest. He figured it was unintentional. And he was a little distracted by her hair.
"I don't hear--" she started. Remus and Sirius shushed her again.
"Never doubt Sirius's feelings," Remus whispered. "They're never wrong."
A few seconds passed before Ed heard something down the hall. It was too faint, though; he couldn't make out any particular voices. How Sirius had sensed them before he had confused him. Quiet footsteps approached their closet. Words came through.
"You're...people...rir?"
"...There...why are...yes..."
Ed nudged Hermione. She didn't move. He tried again, kneeing her lightly as he did so. With a slight groan, she slammed her shoulders back against him.
"Okay, that's it," he growled, just barely audibly, and grabbed her shoulders, swinging her into his place against the wall. Water dripped from his sleeve onto her robe, undoubtedly, but he didn't really care. "All right, everyone, stand back."
After his whisper, he clapped his hands together softly and pressed them to the door. Lights flashed about for a moment before he snatched his hands back and slammed his shoulder against it just hard enough to burst through it.
Two men outside stared.
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
"Hey," Ginny whispered, clutching Roy's ungloved hand in hers. He looked down at her, grimacing. Trails where tears had fallen covered her cheeks, and her eyes were red and puffy. That wasn't surprising, and he certainly didn't blame her for it. She'd just watched him burn three men to death in less than ten minutes.
She mouthed something else, but nothing came out. Another tear fell down her cheek, but she continued walking alongside him.
Dennis kept walking with a steady hand on his wand. Roy mentally praised him for keeping his eyes shut when he told him to.
A fourth set of footsteps began approaching from a hall to their right. He gestured for the two to close their eyes. Neither did.
"Ginny, Dennis get ready," he gave the former's hand a squeeze. "I'm going to have to kill the next one, too."
A dry sob escaped her throat. Roy tugged her forward, nodding Dennis on as well. He did not need to be any further from the teens than he was. Losing his head wasn't a very exciting thought. He prepared to snap his fingers again as the man noticed them and lifted his wand.
Just as Roy created the spark, the other man shouted. The explosion bent around him.
"Zhen quísi rén," he growled, shielding both teenagers. "Stay behind me."
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
Sirius's reaction to the two Death Eaters - after spending a few moments in presumably deep thought - was to release a throaty shout and engage in a suicide tackle at the closest Death Eater. The display was so unexpected that everyone simply stood, completely motionless, and watched. His target, although masked, maintained a distinctly shocked appearance throughout the attack. The two wrestled for perhaps a moment before the dog-man emerged on top, holding the other man's wand above his head triumphantly and laughing maniacally.
Remus, in the meantime, had pulled his own wand out of his pocket. While Sirius was still in the throes of his victory celebration, the werewolf waved it carefully in the direction of the second Death Eater, whose feet flew out from under him. Hermione scurried in and pulled his wand away as well, stomping on his hands and brandishing the stick threateningly.
"Er," Ron managed, glancing between the two downed intruders. Ed felt as coherent as the redhead sounded. "That, uh--"
"I WIN!!" Sirius roared, pushing a knee between his opponent's shoulderblades. Remus nodded patiently. "TAKE THAT! Any last words?"
"Ow," the masked man murmured succinctly. Remus clapped his hands.
"Stupefy," he muttered, pointing his wand at Sirius's victim. He did the same to the one near Hermione and tucked his wand into his belt. Once the two had stopped moving, he approached the second one and lifted his mask. Seeming content, he then stood and ran his hand through his bangs.
Ed, however, sighed, feeling left out of the experience. Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder, nodding his understanding. Harry looked vaguely ill, but Ed let it go.
"So, now what do we do?" Ron asked, ignoring Hermione as she brushed the dust and dirt off her robes. Sirius stood, placing the Death Eater's wand in his pocket and smirking confidently. He took a deep breath. When he let it out, he propped a hand on his hip dramatically.
"What do we do?" he asked. Remus scratched his chin. "What do we do? I'll tell you what we do! We--"
"We aren't valiantly and heroically hunting down every last Death Eater in the castle, Sirius," Remus cut him off mid-sentence. "And no, you can't convince me otherwise."
Ed watched, amused, as Sirius pouted and kicked the remnants of the door. Unfortunately, this led to Hermione asking something the blond did not want to be asked.
"Hey," she murmured, glancing between the door frame and alchemist. "I just remembered...Edward, what did you do to the door? You just...clapped...and it broke. How'd you do it? And how can I get it to work on people?"
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed; Ed cleared his throat.
"I'll tell you some other time," he offered. "For now, we should probably try to find someplace safe. It'd be best if we stuck together, but...chances are, that'd make too much noise, and there are intruders everywhere. Splitting up might be--"
"You want to split up?" Harry asked quietly. Ed nodded, and the bespectacled boy bit his lip. "I...not only that, but...splitting up might...okay. We should."
Ed took a breath and glanced around. While Hermione and Ron had sent him incredulous looks when he'd suggested the idea, Harry's two words had pacified them. Now the girl seemed a little hesitant, but resigned to the idea. It was as simple as that.
"Who goes with who?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. Ed thought for a moment.
"Er...pick rock or scissors," he suggested, holding out his hand. Everyone else brought their hands in, and, after counting to three, made their decisions. Only Ron picked scissors. Another try had Hermione and Remus joining him. Ed looked at Sirius and Harry, who had also chosen rock, and swallowed.
"So," Hermione looked at Harry. "Where should we go?"
"The kitchen," he answered immediately. "Dobby would be able to hide us. Sirius and I will--Sirius, Ed, and I will take the path behind the Grecian tapestry. You, Ron, and Professor Lupin should go behind the armor. Does that sound okay?"
Hermione nodded, fingering her wand for a moment, and then flung herself into Harry's arms. Ed cleared his throat to get her attention.
"We need to get going."
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
Roy gripped his collar and turned to glare at Dennis. The boy flinched under his gaze, but - Roy had to give him credit for intelligence and courage - slipped closer to him. Ginny did the same, clenching his hand again and breathing loudly. The professor used the sleeve of the arm still in his possession to wipe his blood off his collarbone.
"Ginny, conjure some rope," he ordered. She did as she was told, and a moment later Roy stopped and leaned against a wall. "Tether yourselves to me. Make sure you're within three feet."
While the two did as he asked, he mentally tallied up what had happened. Since leaving the room, they'd been attacked at least six times. Five times, he'd killed their assailant. Once, Ginny had done something to freeze one. In total, they'd probably only traveled fifty meters. The alchemist weighed his options and turned to Dennis.
"I will actually reward you if you can concoct some way to get out of the castle's lockdown," he said, twisting his ankle to make sure Ginny's knot hadn't cut off his circulation. "Same for you, Ginny."
Both shrugged, looking vaguely scared and angry. Roy pushed off from the wall and continued on his way. Their footsteps echoed softly in the empty hallway.
A lavatory came into view, and once they'd reached it, Roy tried the handle. Nothing happened. But he thought this was okay. Hiding out with toilets was far more unacceptable than even a closet. Ginny pulled his hand lightly, so he continued.
"Professor," Dennis whispered. "Can't you just...I mean...why not hex or bewitch...them?"
"I am incapable of magic," Roy replied. "What I'm doing is the only thing I can to help us. It's all I know. To date, it hasn't failed me."
They traveled on a little ways more without incident before Dennis dropped his wand, thus eliminating their light. While he crouched down to feel around for it, Roy strained his ears as they picked up on faint whispers ahead of them. The light came back on and, without alerting his "charges" to the noise, he began to head toward it again. Dennis coughed purposefully. Ginny squeezed his hand.
"I don't care if it's magic or alchemy or whatever, but what you're doing is violent. It scares me," she admitted, tugging him around a corner. "Can't you not kill them?"
"My country's been at war for decades," he tried to repossess his hand, failing to do so. "Those who haven't killed are the minority. We aren't taught non-lethal self defense."
"You could try it," the redhead muttered. "I mean..."
She trailed off as they turned another corner. On the ground were two Death Eaters, each presumably unconscious. Something like a broom cupboard had its door broken down, and the fragments were littering the hall. He checked to see if they were still alive before beckoning for the two students to follow him.
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
"Bloody cobwebs," Sirius murmured, wiping at his face in the dim light. Harry nodded his agreement, and Ed sighed heavily. The passage seemed too long to be real. It kept getting tighter, too; he was almost touching the other teen by this point. "At least we're almost there. Why'd Remus get to take the short route?"
"Because he's less likely to kamikaze strike the next Death Eater he sees," Harry answered bluntly. "Honestly, Sirius - why didn't you just stun him?"
"A real man takes on his enemies hand-to-hand!" Sirius 'explained' vehemently, fist pumping and smacking into a wall. He rubbed it for a moment. "Besides which, I forgot my wand."
Ed scoffed. Sirius knocked twice on the wall to his right, and it opened into a hall.
"Okay, coast is clear," he muttered, pulling himself through the opening. "Harry, Ed, get out here."
Ed climbed out after Harry, watching their only adult companion tap his foot impatiently. Once he was out, Sirius stretched his arms over his head and let out a sigh of unmistakable relief. A grin spread across his face when he finished.
"ONWARD INTO BATTLE!" he barked, throwing an arm over Harry's neck and dragging him. Ed was left to follow, and follow he did. The teen tried to keep up with his companions as they sped down the hall. It would've been far easier if he hadn't been wearing a cloak. "To the kitchen! To house elves and tea cozies! To unlimited amounts of pumpkin juice and possibly alcohol! Let us charge!!"
"Yes," Ed agreed as good-heartedly as he could. "And let us forget the original intent to get somewhere safe quietly."
"I don't think you've quite realized the true extent of my greatness," Sirius slowed down a little as he said this, finally letting Harry go and stopping. "I am exceptionally exceptional."
"And conceited, but I think that's beside the point," Ed yielded. There was a strange wooshing sound to their left. "Hey, do either of you--"
He couldn't even finish his sentence before three people slid out from behind a painting and slammed directly into Sirius. They slid about two meters before stopping in a pile of confused groans, heavy breathing, and incoherent sentences. In another situation, Ed could've mistaken it for sex.
"Oh...Roy," the blond blinked, recognizing his superior in the pile immediately. "Nice entrance. Are you hungry?"
THIS IS A BREAK LINE; IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY.
A/N: Sorry about the cliffy...I tried to give myself a deadline. It's been two weeks since it passed, so I figured I'd update.
So, who liked it? I haven't written action since last July...I wasn't sure whether I could still do it well. Anyone have an opinion? Personally, I enjoyed writing the kamikaze Sirius part, but any feedback is welcome, as always. (By the way, I'll be sending out notices about who guessed right in the contest with this update)
The rest of the scene may come up sometime this month...but I am a bit busy. I have about five concerts in one band (ARGH! Being a classically trained trumpet player is hard and time-consuming!), a trip to California with another, two band competitions, a writing competition, an article due on education, four tests, and two songs I have to transpose and master before May. And I have to play french horn with a thumb temporarily paralyzed at the second joint, which is going to prove difficult...
Enough on my life! Reviews feed the story and author. Don't starve them.
So, let's summarize how I've left things: Roy, Ginny, and Dennis have been struggling to survive, Sirius is having WAY too much fun, and Ed, somewhere in the middle, is attempting to remain sane. And let's not forget the Protectme!Ginny and the trials Remus et. all are undoubtedly experiencing...Hope you enjoy chapter eight someday!
Thanks! Over and out.
(P.S.: Guess what? Grindewald has an icon set now! Isn't that AWESOME?! I love whoever made them, so tell me if it was you so I can credit you!)
(P.P.S.: APPRECIATE THIS. IT TOOK FOR FREAKING EVER TO UPLOAD IT, AS THE DOCUMENT MANAGER IS PARTLY DOWN.)
(P.P.P.S.: WHO HARTS LAI?!)