No warnings this time.

Beta-reader: Gift of the Dragons

"Abc!" - spoken words

Abc! - thoughts

Recap Chapter 1-2.1:

As the Elric brothers still need to find a way to return Al's body back to normal before time runs out, they decide to split up on their quest for information. Following a lead to the Philosopher's Stone and a strange accumulation of energy in the air, Edward Elric arrives at Hogsmeade village. An incident with Lockhart's Cornish Pixies has him get to know three of the local residents who reveal the existence of something they call 'magic' and share local legends about the Shrieking Shack and the Stone's attempted theft from Hogwarts. Dumbledore, who felt the Shack's wards being prodded, investigated and met up with Ed at the Whomping Willow.

Chapter 2.2: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore part two (words: 5930)

The comfortable armchair he was sitting in right now had been wooden just moments before. He was sure of it. Light brown, hard, cold and uncomfortable without a single cushion, to be exact. And now... it wasn't. Edward had tried not to show any sign of surprise at these new forms of illogicality but it was getting harder by the minute. And lunch hadn't even rolled around yet.

He had gotten so used to being awakened by the unrelenting rays of the sun each morning that he had made it a habit to rise early during his ascent in the mountains. Mr. Lane's garden faced south, though, and not only did the sun reach him as it had all the other mornings, but the couch in the living room had turned out to be oh so very comfortable as well.

As such, he overslept. And that was only the beginning.

Next thing he knew the Shack was giving him a rather realistic show of what the Cornish Pixies had felt the day before, when they had bounced the cottage's ward. (Surprise, pain, confusion, disorientation, annoyance, his brain supplied 'helpfully' at the unwanted memory.) A tree had attacked him, he'd been called a werewolf and he was sure that those paintings before the living staircase and its guardian were moving. Last but not least, even his beloved books turned against him. 'Phoenix' Diseases and How to Treat Them' had only been one of the many titles that mocked his familiar logic.

And now a hard chair made of wood had been turned into a cushioned armchair made of leather.

So yes, I was prepared that things work differently in these parts. But I had thought that, at the very least, Transfigurations followed the same rules as transmutations. Mr. Aaron had mentioned formulas though, so maybe it's just an advanced form?

It was unlikely, he knew, but it was the desire to find something familiar that led him to these thoughts.

Sitting across from him was the 'knight in shining armour' that had appeared out of nowhere to come to his rescue. Granted, it was a very old 'knight' with a silky blue robe-like armour-substitute that hadn't really rescued him from the willow – but he seemed to be willing to have a decent conversation and maybe shed some light on the workings of magic.

Right now, he was the best he could get.

There was one thing about his new acquaintance however that put him off: a weariness that was remained in the old man's blue eyes, carefully concealed behind the old-fashioned half-moon glasses. When the intensity of the look directed towards him had only lessened somewhat, once it became clear that he wasn't a werewolf (A werewolf! Of all things!), it made him wonder whether the Professor wasn't at least slightly biased towards them as well. Now, sitting behind the enormous desk in the middle of all the strange devices, he looked calmly at him, serene even.

Well, that's what I'd call an elaborate poker face.

He waited, patiently, for the man in front of him still owed him a reply.

"...It's not that bad of a character trait to have a fondness for books. I must insist on calling you by your last name though. It's custom at this school and, while you are not one of my students, old habits die hard," said Dumbledore a moment later, smiling apologetically. "Would you like to drink some tea?"

"I always thought nothing's ever too late to try, though I suppose it's alright." He considered the last sentence for a moment and frowned slightly. "I'm fine right now, thanks."

And not stupid enough to accept food or drinks from someone who just told me a couple of minutes ago that the standard procedure would be evocating an amnesia...

"What do you want to talk about first?"

The smile became somewhat strained. "I heard you are interested in what you call the Philosopher's Stone, Mr. Elric. As far as I understand, it is what has drawn you here. I suppose we could just as well start with this topic, unless you have other preferences?"

The look that the other man was sending him across the table was scrutinizing at best and Edward didn't mind the scowl that appeared on his own face at all. Inwardly, though, he heaved a sigh of relief.

The Philosopher's Stone. That was something he knew. Yes, it was blasted, dangerous, murderous even and most likely cursed – but it was something that he understood. With all that magical talk, the fantasy-creatures and the inanimate objects that moved of their own accord – with all of that surrounding him, and as strange as it might sound, the Philosopher's Stone was comfortingly familiar. And here he had been worried about how to approach the topic.

"No beating around the bush this time? Good for you, I was fearing this would turn out to be just as tedious as earlier. And yeah, you could say that the Stone's the reason I came here."

Dumbledore's ever-present smile had disappeared and it was enough to set Ed on edge. "Why are you after it?"

"Someone's got to protect it from falling into the wrong hands," he replied nonchalantly. He would not tell this man his reasons if there was a way around it.

"And your hands are the right ones?"

"Better than most, I'm sure."

His answers came without missing a beat but were closed off, unwilling to give out much information. As much as this pleased the teen, Dumbledore's blue eyes narrowed in concentration.

After a moment, the wizard leaned back in his chair and smiled again. "Well, well. I feel that I must inform you however, that it is totally unnecessary for you to protect it. It can't fall into the wrong hands anymore."

"Are you talking about this being the supposedly most secure place in the entire world?" He made a show of looking around and grimacing. "The villagers told me that all your high-end security was blown away by a bad guy who fooled you with one of the oldest tricks known to man. A first year student jumping in to save the day is not really what I would call 'sufficient protection', Headmaster."

Although the smiling didn't decrease in intensity, a slight frown could be seen forming on the man's forehead. "You make it sound like Harry Potter was just an eleven year old like any other."

Ed scoffed. "Lucking out as a baby doesn't make one a hero."

Dumbledore raised one surprised eyebrow. "I'm sure he would be glad to hear that in person seeing as he is quite annoyed by all the attention he had received. Even so, I can understand that you are unimpressed by his achievements as a baby and yet, ...you don't seem to be very fazed by his defeating Voldemort as a young teenager either."

"The Dark Lord?" he asked in an attempt to clarify whether they were still talking about the same person. Mr. Lane and the Aarons had only talked about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or You-Know-Who so Voldemort must be his real name. But who in their right mind would name their child 'flying death'?With a name like that, things were bound to go wrong.

Edward leaned back in his chair as well. "Hm. If I had to guess I would say it was like this: young Harry Potter somehow got wind of what was going on. He was intrigued, but disregarded all forms of caution such as the adage 'curiosity killed the cat' and thus continued his research. He may have even dragged someone dear to him along for the ride in his excitement…" his eyes darkened a bit in remembrance of his own actions but he continued on without any other comment. "Once he found what was hidden here, he was amazed but was also pulled deeper in. Emotionally, that is; once the idea had implanted itself on his mind, he was unable to turn back.

"Then Mr. Potter lucked out again, realized that you had been lured away, and somehow came to the conclusion that he and whoever had been dragged in were the only ones that could save the day. Ever the idealistic eleven year old, he was overconfident in his own abilities and disregarded the severity of the danger he was walking into by sheer lack of knowledge and experience. Then he lucked out yet again and managed to survive – though probably by a twist of fate rather than his own skills."

The lucky bastard.

"..."

Dumbledore was speechless. During the explanation, his white, bushy eyebrows had risen to his hairline and his mouth hung slightly open.

I hope I didn't break him...

"Anything I missed?" His highly amused voice managed to snap the man out of his inner musings.

"No, that was indeed quite accurate," mused Dumbledore thoughtfully. "Although I may have chosen a different kind of wording. He did 'luck out' as you were putting it for the most part but he still showed a lot of courage. And while it was partially grounded on stupidity and a youthful presumption he did what he thought was the right thing and he did it with all he had. I can't help but wonder though from the way you were telling this story: could it be that you are speaking out of your own experiences?"

"That's none of your business!" Edward snapped, having trouble keeping his volume in check. Even so, he couldn't tone down the blaze in his eyes. He might have avoided a direct answer but he couldn't have made the truth more clear, and upon that realization, his whole body tensed up as he realized just how much he might have given away.

Don't give him time to dwell on it...

"Back to the topic at hand: the Stone is not safe here, that much should be obvious."

"That's quite true. Two years ago my old friend Nikolas and I came to the same conclusion."

The statement confused Edward far more than it calmed him.

"...So?"

"So we decided to destroy it. Something that doesn't exist anymore can't fall into the wrong hands."

Any lingering signs of relaxation vanished as the young man before Dumbledore all but exploded. "Don't you dare bullshit me, old man! A true Philosopher's Stone can't be destroyed. You can use it, yes. You may even say it can be killed. But you cannot destroy it," he fumed.

He was not a kid and he was most certainly not a fool. And if the 'old, wise wizard' thought of him as such, thought he could outright lie to him instead of taking him seriously... Well he would show him how wrong he was.

"...Killing...? That's the first time I've ever heard of someone referring like that to such an action with an inanimate object. I can assure you, however, that we did not do a 'cruel' thing like this. We merely released the energy that was contained," said the Headmaster in such a calm and slightly confused voice that led Edward to doubt his earlier theory of not being taken seriously.

"Do you... " Formerly blazing gold seemed to suddenly switch between shocked, confused, disbelieving and afraid. He searched Dumbledore's eyes in hopes to find … something. Truth, maybe. "Do you … even know what this energy is? Or are you really that ignorant?" His piercing gaze had settled for 'indignant' by the end of his short speech.

"I don't understand why you would be so thrown off by this. As far as I know the stone is condensed magical energy. I may not know the specifics behind the construction of it, but of this I'm sure."

"Is... there anywhere where I can read up on that?"

"..."

"...?"

He needed to be sure. If what the Headmaster had just said was true – and he seemed to be completely honest and genuinely bewildered at his outburst – if it was true... And if the Sorcerer's Stone was really made of nothing save for 'magical energy',... and if it contained enough power to need to be locked away behind high security measures...

I shouldn't get ahead of myself...Truly, he shouldn't, considering he hadn't received an answer yet.

He watched as Dumbledore took a slow, steady breath, leaned back completely and regarded him sternly over the brim of his half moon glasses. With the low voice that he only ever used for the gravest of issues and that contrasted so much to his usual cheerful way, he answered, making sure to express the intended finality of his words. "I don't think that the world needs someone else who knows the secret of the stone. Nikolas and his wife died half a year ago, in the peaceful knowledge that this secret would die with them. We even destroyed the stone to ensure that it could not fall into Voldemort's hands and Nikolas himself assured me that his texts on the subject were to never be found out by anyone. I don't care why you seek this knowledge, but rest assured that even if I knew where his notes were I would not give them to you. For the sake of my friend and the Wizarding World as a whole."

Elric blinked. Once. Twice. Then a grimace distorted his face. "Oh don't worry about that," he answered. "I already know how to create a Philosopher's Stone so that's not what I would have been looking for in his research notes." He wondered briefly if he was going too far with his information but the decline had held no place for arguing. The hopes, though, the hopes that there might be a stone as powerful as the Philosopher's without the stipulation that he sacrifice lives when obtaining and using it was enough to loosen his mouth. So he continued.

"...And as I'm not the only one who does, I fear that your dear friend and his wife died, unknowingly believing in a lie. All your Dark Lord would have to do is look beyond his own nose and take what's there. He wouldn't even have to learn how to do it either as he could always just grab the existing stone."

He had a look on his face that was meant to tell Dumbledore that he knew he had just dropped a bomb. The very bomb that he hadn't wanted to share at the beginning and the wizard's gaze reflected that knowledge.

"You know how to create a Philosopher's Stone?" he asked with unmasked incredulity. "How? You are only a teenager. And what do you mean by, 'just grab the existing stone'? It's bad news that there's still one out there but this sounds as if it's not even properly guarded. And you are lecturing me about appropriate protection and not letting it fall into the wrong hands?"

Edward was sure that there must have only been a few instances in the Headmaster's life where he had been this agitated. Despite this, he needed to be given some credit. Had he been in his place Ed probably would have jumped out of his seat and grabbed the bringer of the bad news by the collar, daring them to repeat the message.

The shock hadn't worn off, so he took his chance to get some words in.

"And Mister Harry Potter is 'only a teenager' as well, isn't that correct?" he continued quietly. "And has still managed to do what a lot of adults hadn't achieved... right? As for the stone I assume that the mere fact that Voldemort doesn't know of its existence – heck, that you are probably the only wizard that currently does – is enough of protection right now." At this he interrupted himself for a short moment to recollect his thoughts. His golden eyes were fixed on an imaginary point somewhere to the left of the Headmaster. After a minute, the youth continued; this time at an even slower pace.

"Whether it's in the 'wrong hands' or not is a difficult matter, as it's in the hands of the person who created it. Dr. Markoh is, no matter how you look at it, a mass murderer. But this happened long ago and although he knew that he can never fully atone for his sins, he is presently trying his best to right what has been done wrong." He returned his gaze to meet Dumbledore's wide, blue eyes and continued on. "A Philosopher's Stone amplifies one's abilities and the last one in existence is currently used to amplify the doctor's healing skills in a region that had to suffer a lot of war in the past decade. I might have hated him at one point, and a part of me still does, but I can't ignore what he has done during the last few months..." He sighed. "And just like everyone else I'm willing to give him a second chance."

Albus Dumbledore was silent for a long time. He's probably assessing the information, thought Edward, and held still whilst the other was watching him with carefully concealed calculation. He was sure that he was being searched for any signs of traitorous behaviour, and was as certain there would not be a single hint that would suggest duplicity. No fast blinking eyes. No insecure hand movements. No waver in his voice. No irregular breathing.

Edward was relieved when he, himself, found a flicker of fear in the old man's eyes in the moment that he came to the same conclusion. This was no lie to get to the research notes. This was reality.

This was the Truth.

"I suppose there's nothing I can do but trust your judgement for now," Dumbledore conceded at last. "If what you say is true though – if you don't only know how to create a Philosopher's Stone but also know the location of one and its lack of safety – then, apart from actually posing an immediate threat yourself, I don't quite understand why you would want to read Nikolas' notes." He regarded the blond suspiciously. "What do you want to gain from them?"

My brother, was the first thought that crossed his mind. If I say that I can just as well say that we tried to resurrect our mum, failed spectacularly and burned our house down. And I could just add that I've been with the military for a couple of years. Yes, that will make me look so much more trustworthy!

"..."

"...?"

The silence seemed to stretch for yet another eternity whilst Ed thought about an answer. His golden eyes had been averted completely and were now intently studying the left claw like foot of the desk. His mouth had formed into a thin line and he was sure that Al would chide him for the deep frown that seemed to have planted its roots on his forehead.

" I … want to see whether what you indicated earlier is true," was what he settled for in the end. It wasn't an answer, but it gave him a little bit more time to think.

"Which is?"

"... Back in the village, Mr. Lane did not use the term Philosopher's Stone." Finally, Ed raised his eyes to meet his gaze again. "He called the stone that was nearly stolen from Hogwarts a 'Sorcerer's Stone'. Because of the similarities concerning immortality and alchemy I assumed it was a mere difference in vocabulary. But then you said a Sorcerer's Stone could be destroyed. That you merely released the energy," it took him a moment to continue, "and this might indicate that they aren't the same after all."

"You mean to say," asked Dumbledore tentatively, "that there are two different stones that can grant someone immortality?"

His temper flared again. "Don't be stupid! A thing such as real immortality doesn't exist! The fact that Mr. Flamel died shortly after the stone was destroyed proves this without a doubt."

"Then why is it important to know whether both are the same or not?"

Here comes the tricky part.

"There is something I need to do and I need to use the stone as a power source," he answered reluctantly. "Just because I know how to create the Philosopher's Stone or just because I know where to find one doesn't mean I actually will create or use it. I've used the stone once, and that was only so lives other than my own would have been saved. But there is no way I'm ever doing that again."

Never. Again.

Dumbledore blinked, taken aback, but continued to press forward. "You look positively disgusted by the thought. What's holding you back exactly?"

"Morals."

Edward met the gaze again and smirked slightly internally. Payback is sweet, he thought, remembering how alike this conversation was to the one about the werewolves. The difference is that the roles are reversed this time around.

"Please explain."

"..." Wonder how long it would take him to snap?

"...!"

There was no real need to hide much longer though. He had known from the moment he spoke about Dr. Markoh that he would have to lay most of his cards on the table. And he would not get on the Professor's good side by annoying him even further.

So, taking a deep breath, he tensed his shoulders and prepared for what was to come.

"The power source of the Philosopher's Stone is souls. Human souls. Yes, you understood that right, its main ingredient are living humans."

"That's..."

"That's why Dr. Markoh is a mass murderer."

"So when he uses it..."

"The souls get consumed."

"And you let him do so freely!?"

The statements came bullet-like and, contrary to the first time Dumbledore had been shocked, this time the Professor had actually risen from his seat at his last question. His blazing eyes were boring right into him.

"Please let me explain," Ed carded his gloved left hand through his bangs in a poor attempt to calm his nerves and held his right up in a sign of surrender. "These souls don't have a body anymore. They have nothing except their own agony. They …" it was hard to find the words, really. "They live in a swirl with the other souls, not knowing where their own personality starts or ends. 'One is all and all is one' takes on a whole new dimension in there! 'Life' as a concept gets blurred."

"That's … unbelievable." The tension seeped out again. A loud thump was heard when the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry let himself fall backwards into his seat once more. His face was ashen, the regular twinkle gone from his eyes.

"But a sad reality nonetheless..." It was a rather poor attempt at being consoling, but what was he supposed to say when 'sad' didn't actually even begin to cover it?

"..."

"You can see now why I won't ever use it though."

"Yes, indeed."

At least he found his voice again. Time for the next step.

"And you see why I thus want to read up on Mr. Flamel's notes?"

"Actually... yes I do. I'm quite interested in those notes now myself. If what you say about the Philosopher's Stone is true and if it turns out that the stones are, in fact, similar... But Nikolas never seemed to be a cruel person." He paused a moment to organize his thoughts. "What I don't understand is what exactly you 'need to do' that requires this much energy."

Damn. He just had to remember this part. Now: How to phrase it?

"I want to … cure my brother," he decided on and shifted a bit in his chair. "It's not really a disease but he can't eat, sleep, swim, feel...live as he is now."

"I take it then that he has fallen into some kind of comatose state?"

"No, it's hard to explain." He paused to choose his words carefully. "...His soul was separated from his body. Both are still alive but I need the energy to connect them properly again."

Dumbledore blinked, astonished. "Is that even possible?"

Edward wasn't sure which part he questioned in detail. That they live apart from each other? That they got separated in the first place? Or that they can be reunited again? He decided for the last one as that's where the stone would come into use.

"Yes, the mind link is still intact – and in a very good shape too. I only need to pull his body back towards his soul. You may look sceptical now, but I can assure you that I completely know what I'm talking about and how I can make that work. The problem is that the only solution we could find back home was the Philosopher's Stone. Al and I agreed to never use it for our own purposes so we both went away to foreign countries to find an alternate method. If the Sorcerer's Stone holds as much as its counterpart, but doesn't include the need to sacrifice others, then I just might have found the very way to save him. He's only got around three years left before it will be too late."

"I see." Despite the admission, Ed could clearly see him frowning."What makes you think you could create Nikolas' stone though? It's probably called Sorcerer's Stone for a reason and you aren't a sorcerer. You are a Muggle – unable to operate magic."

It took a full ten seconds for the blond to assess this information. He tilted his head sideways, chewed slightly on his lower lip and answered slowly. "But did I understand it correctly that there was a reference to alchemy in the legends surrounding your stone as well?"

Dumbledore blinked, obviously thrown off. "Alchemy? Yes, I think there is. Here, alchemy as an art is dead and I personally think that the ability to turn lead into gold was only woven in to make it appear even more valuable. Humankind has always been rather greedy so it was sure to attract more attention this way."

An amused laugh rang through the office. "Turning lead into gold is no big deal for any skilled alchemist!" (Wizards!) "It's only forbidden out of fear of economical inflation. As for alchemy being a dead art; that must have been the funniest thing I've heard the whole day." (Granted, this wasn't particularly hard as he hadn't heard anything funny before that at all, but it was still true.) "Alchemy is not dead and neither are alchemists. I guess it's just the wizards that are blind to any development that is linked to 'Muggles' in any way," he paused, still smiling, and continued on teasingly. "You don't use light bulbs even though this castle is really dark so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. Maybe Voldemort isn't the only one who should look beyond his nose from time to time?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "The problem with the light bulbs is that electricity doesn't work inside the castle. The students are here to learn how to do magic, not to talk about Muggle inventions."

As if! All the signals sent out by your brain are electrical impulses. Your own body wouldn't be able to move, or live for that matter, if it wasn't for this minimum of electricity and yet you can still live inside the castle without any problems! He didn't say it aloud, as it could easily be taken as an insult, but the fact amused him greatly. He couldn't say he knew what exactly was interfering with the light bulbs, as he didn't even know what 'magic' really was, so maybe it was better that he kept his mouth shut.

"Well if you say so. Others say that the brain itself works on electricity but I, of course, wouldn't know."

The bushy eyebrows rose again. "I'll ...keep that in mind. As for alchemy, I'm not very knowledgeable on the matter but I was always under the impression that it revolves about turning one material into another by various experiments that include a lot of potions..."

This time, it was the teen's turn to blink, dumbfounded. Potions?

"Um...not really. It's a science, all right. The short definition would be that alchemy is 'the knowledge, analysis and recreation of the laws and currents that exist within substances', with the application of such knowledge called transmutation. It would take eternity to fully explain right now but I'm sure that everyone, wizard and Muggle alike, has got the potential to learn it, granted that they put a lot of time and effort into their studies. The main point is that it is by the use of this science that my people created the Philosopher's Stones. There wasn't a single wizard included. It may be that magic is the key to the Sorcerer's Stone in the end but for now I've got to have faith that my skills as an alchemist will be sufficient to succeed," Ed ended, smiling not only at his own confidence but at the pleasant familiarity of yet another topic close to his heart.

"These skills as an alchemist you just mentioned, or alchemy... they wouldn't have anything to do with the way you transfigured the ground by placing your hands on it, would they?"

He beamed. "That's exactly what I was talking about! But it's called a trans-mu-ta-tion."

"And you are absolutely sure that everyone can do that if they try hard enough?" A pair of sceptical, bushy, silver eyebrows rose to new heights.

Edward had to think for a moment. How would he know if a wizard could perform alchemy when he had just learned about their very existence the day before? And what did it matter anyways? He frowned.

"I haven't heard of a single person who really tried to learn alchemy and failed to get even the slightest reaction. There are differences in style, preferred materials, delicacy of work and size of the resulting objects, yet so far nobody was actually 'unable' to apply the basic theory. As for wizards I'm not sure," he conceded. "For one, I don't know what makes the difference between you and me so maybe that could interfere. For the other, magic seems to boost laziness, at least physically. I mean, nobody ever climbs these mountains since they can teleport? To train the mind you first have to train the body after all. Apart from that, alchemy is limited to transmutations that literally require years to learn. I'm not sure if a wizard who is used to just waving his wand and making things happen without knowing how would sit down, learn the elements and their properties by heart and calculate for hours just to transform one object."

"I can see your point and have to admit that the thought of spending this much time on one activity would indeed put most wizards off," he smiled. "In the future, you will have to choose carefully who you are confiding in though; especially when you might end up interacting more with our culture. You took the chance of telling me because I refused you in the beginning, but Voldemort is cunning and you never know who favours him."

Again Voldemort. And again Ed wondered why they were talking so much about him when he was supposed to be gone. And then there was something that wasn't stated explicitly but caught his attention nevertheless.

"You will let me walk around and talk to people even though I'm a Muggle who is supposed to get their memory erased?" Needles to say, Edward was baffled. Sure, he had been trying to get Dumbledore on his good side by being honest – well, as honest as not mentioning how Al got in his 'state' could be – but so far he had received no equal feedback from the Professor's side.

"I will be honest with you, Mr. Elric..." (Finally!) "I do not trust you completely. In this world, where wizards have kept to themselves for the last couple of centuries, you and your alchemy are a completely new occurrence. You are a wild card that I cannot put into any category I have ever encountered before. Even more so with your extended knowledge on something this powerful and dangerous... And yet, your request seems sincere. This is curious, very curious indeed. I will not decide right now – in fact I am not even in the position to decide. The first place to look for Nikolas' notes is his old home which has been abandoned after his death, so I would have to go and look for the person who is in charge of taking care of it right now, and convince them that I still have to do some business inside.

"I will need time to mull over what you have just revealed to me so as to decide how far I can trust you, as well as find and get into contact with said person. If you are willing to wait for my answer, then I suggest that you stay inside the castle for the next few days."

Edward raised a single eyebrow. "Do I have a choice?"

"Oh!" said Dumbledore, this time delighted. A mischievous twinkle had returned to his azure eyes and Ed couldn't help but become wary. "Of course you have a choice, young man. You always have. I just didn't mention it as you seemed to dislike it so very strongly earlier..."

His second eyebrow went up to meet with the first.

"...But I can always erase any and all memories relating to magic, Hogwarts, wizards and the Sorcerer's Stone," finished the Headmaster.

Both eyebrows dropped simultaneously when the blond let his face fall into the most deadpanned expression he could muster and didn't even think about deigning the very amused Dumbledore with a reply.

As if!

"Very well then, I'll have your quarters be prepared. As of now, I could personally do with some food. Will you join me for lunch?" He rose from his armchair and made his way around the desk and the many devices scattered around the room. He flicked his wand at the armchair Ed had been occupying before he had followed Dumbledore's example, and transfigured it back into the wooden, cushion-less version it had been before. Ed pointedly looked away.

They had barely passed the gargoyle when the Headmaster turned to him again.

"Mr. Elric, what do you think of chamber music?"

...What?

"What?" Talk about bringing up random topics.

"Chamber music. Or music in general," his host replied patiently. "I believe that it's a magic beyond all we do and teach here..."

"..." Edward didn't answer, but then again, he didn't need to.

They continued on their way accompanied by the cheerful voice of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, talking about his favourite sonatas, composers and instrumentalists and how Edward should listen to the European classics while he still had the chance.

Ed in turn just hoped that the dining room wasn't too far away.

Author's notes:

It's done. Finally. I hope it's not visible just how much trouble I had with this one. óo

I didn't know it wasn't possible to review twice to one chapter and so on, so I had merely updated the second chapter at first. Sorry if this caused any invonveniences. :/

Also, I guessed there might have to be an explanation-dialogue in every crossover, I just never realized how boring it is to actually write it. It got my spirits up for the next chapter though. ;)

Did the Pov-change succeed in decreasing the ooc-ness?

There are two or three (part)sentences that are taken directly from the originals, but as the disclaimer from chapter one applies to the whole fanfiction I will not state them explicitly. If anyone wishes to know though, I'll gladly send them over.

There also wasn't any particular reason for the last part other than me having a little fun. It might be referred to in the future though.

Special thanks to Gift of the Dragons who not only beta-ed this part but also introduced me to the crazy world of 'capitalizing-words-in-the-HP-universe' - and also special thanks to every single reviewer. You are all keeping me motivated. :)

(Number)-time:

No numbers this time. D:

Thanks again for reading and please consider to review.

See you, hopefully, in the next chapter:

Chapter 3: Haunted by ghosts