Cerulean Silver vs. Amber Gold
by hikaranko

Summary: Ed has been put on his stupidest assignment yet: babysitting. Well, that's not what everyone else would call it, but to Edward Elric, it's exactly like babysitting. But there's a lot more to this assignment than what's on file... FMA/HP crossover. kinda sorta may possibly be slightly AU with HBP and with FMA. rated T for language.

Disclaimer: I, just like most everyone else, do NOT own either Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter. I am nowhere near as cool or brilliant or creative as Hiromu Arakawa and J.K. Rowling. They rule. The only thing I own here is the idea of the story. The story is my baby. MJade-1 is its only godparent :D

Author's Note: hehehe... I'm sorry for being so weird. I'm just… a crazed fangirl. I'm sorry! I hope my weirdness hasn't scared you away! I'm a little surprised no one commented on Ed's ferret remark, though… oh well!

miroku-has-darkness - I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be sexist or whatever in my author's note, I just… wanted to point that out, in case it wasn't clear. I put a warning before that little bit now, but sorry for scaring you with it.

Chrosis - ehehe... (sweatdrop) sorry 'bout that...

Light Dragon SunsSong - thank you very much! well, I haven't gotten into too much of the Elric brothers' past (I'm trying to figure out what more I can include later), but I'm glad that you've been able to understand it so far. :D and I'm even more glad that you like it so far! and yes, you should definitely start watching/reading Fullmetal Alchemist, it's really a fantastic series.

hyperdude - Gibbon… hey, that's right! Now I'm reminded of "Escape from Monkey Island"… the "Gimpy Gibbon" move! Bwahaha! Oh man, I gotta find me some good fanfics for the Monkey Island series… "I'm Guybrush Threepwood! Lovable pirate and financial gold for LucasArts!" and oh yes, I sorta got the idea for Ed's outfit from some of the recent chapters of the manga (he's been seen less and less in his usual outfit lately, but he still looks good), but I had to add my own ideas for the color. but I'd still love to see your drawing of him! XD

Beboots - He is very deserving of a fan club, isn't he? I'd so join them if Ed didn't hate 'em. :P Actually, my original idea was for Ed to hide in Al's armor and have both Elrics overhear Draco's conversation with Gibbon, but I received protests about the idea from CSAG's godparent and from Al himself. XP (man, I'm cracking up) good reasons, though, so it became that Al refused to let Ed hide in his armor. I believe Al probably would've let Ed hide if he knew what was going on, but he didn't and was just concerned about people seeing the blood seal. They probably wouldn't have noticed, but Al's just being cautious.
Crybaby!Draco? he's not being a crybaby per se, he's just… angsting. Permit Draco some angst! It's been exactly nine chapters since Ed's angst session, so now it's Draco's turn! BWAHAHA! (Ed&Draco: STOP IT!)

meglar - (shields Draco's head) That's completely uncalled for. It's been perfectly clear from the very beginning that this story was going to center largely around Draco, so if you don't like him then you don't have to read it. Seeing as you've already come all this way into it, I'm going to assume that you like it (and you've even told me so). So please, NO CHARACTER BASHING. I will not under any circumstances tolerate character bashing, so... (throws several cans at meglar's head) Stop it.

Chapter 18
The Afterglow/Collateral Damage

That night was one of the few in Edward Elric's young life in which sleep did not come easily to him. He had actually abandoned the party and knocked out before midnight, but the moment midnight struck Al leapt onto the bed, yelling excitedly about Christmas and presents, even though neither of them had received any to speak of. A small fist fight had then ensued, which Al won but Ed refused to acknowledge as legitimate. And once Ed finally did manage to go back to sleep, it was unusually broken and restless. He kept waking up every few hours and would have to shift into another position in order to go back to sleep, gathering the blankets more tightly around him or angrily kicking them away. He didn't know why he felt so uneasy, and that only made him angrier.

So when Al tried to wake him again, at a much more reasonable hour (though still very early), Ed muttered something about needing more hours in a night and tossed a pillow at Al's head.

Alphonse released a heavy sigh as he trudged down the stairs. He'd never seen Ed so grumpy before. Then again, he probably should have known better than to try to wake him up so early. So for now he would just leave Ed alone in his room to sleep. He decided he would explore the mansion while everyone was still lying in bed. That way he wouldn't have to worry about bumping into anyone and getting strange looks from them as they wondered (as usual) why a young boy was wearing a huge suit of armor. It would be a nice, relaxing sort of freedom that he would definitely enjoy.

Or so he thought.

As Al entered the main living room, he caught sight of a figure sitting on the carpet facing the fireplace. His white-blonde hair was slightly disheveled, as though he had run his fingers through it one too many times. The jacket of his dark-grey suit was sitting next to him in a messy heap and the long sleeves of his black turtleneck sweatshirt were slightly rolled up his arms. He seemed to be absently rubbing at a spot on his lower left arm, but it was hard to know for sure. Al couldn't see his face as he stared blankly into the fireplace, at the charred remnants of a fire that had been blazing there the night before, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was Draco.

"Um... Mr. Draco?"

Draco didn't turn around. He merely rolled his sleeves back down his arms and continued to stare at the ashes in the fireplace. Al took a step closer.

"Mr. Draco... Have you been sitting here all night? You're still dressed..."

No answer.

"Did... Did you sleep at all?"

Still no answer. Al was starting to worry.

"Are you... feeling okay?"

He turned only slightly so that he could see Al. Draco's face was blank and expressionless as he turned to face him, his cold silver eyes staring straight through him as though he didn't recognize him. Al took another step forward.

"Mr... Draco...?"

For a moment longer Draco just looked at Al, still not uttering a sound. He averted his eyes, looking like he'd forgotten where he was and what he was doing. Then, still silent, he turned back to look into the fireplace.

It had only been about ten minutes since Al set out to explore the mansion, but he immediately decided that he was done for now. He hurried back up to Ed's room, where it looked like a mountain of pillows and blankets had replaced Ed on the bed, and tried to wake him up again.

"Nii-san... Nii-san!"

A fist emerged from amongst the pillows and began to wave sleepily in the air. "Unless it's already time for lunch, you'd better have a damn good reason for wakin' me, Al."

Al started to pull off the layers of pillows in search of his older brother. "Nii-san, it's about Mr. Draco."

"Ugh. Spare me."

"I just saw him downstairs, and he-"

"Oh, good for him," Ed muttered, his words slurring together with the need for more sleep. "What was he doing? Ordering the house-elves to fix him up a breakfast feast? Gloating over the mountains of presents from his fan club?"

"No, actually. He was just... sitting there."

"Sittin' at the table waitin' on breakfast?"

"No, he... He was sitting on the floor. By the fireplace."

Ed was confused, the hazy mist of sleep still veiled over his mind. "Huh?"

By now Al had successfully dug his brother out, revealing him sprawled out on his stomach with a pillow over his head, and seated himself at the end of the bed. He tilted his head thoughtfully to one side as he began to relay the details.

"It was strange. He wasn't really acting like himself. He looked at me like he didn't know me."

"Well..." Ed removed the pillow and rolled onto his back. "He doesn't really know you."

"I mean it was like he didn't recognize me. He seemed sort of... sad."

The haze was beginning to clear. "Sad?"

"Yeah. Really sad... I wonder what happened..."

Ed was suddenly wide awake and very alert, his eyes snapping open as he remembered what he'd seen last night. The conversation between Draco and that Gibbon guy. The job. The blackmail. The crying.

"He was acting like..." Al glanced cautiously at Ed. "Well, like you, nii-san. Back then. Remember?"

He didn't answer. Of course Ed remembered - it was hard to forget something like that - but it was strange. Some parts were so clear in his memory that they were terrifying, and others felt distant and blurry. He remembered the searing pain in his limbs and the twisting feeling in his gut when he saw what had been created. But he couldn't recall how long it had been since the transmutation by the time Mustang arrived and offered to make him a state alchemist. He remembered a deep feeling of utter despair and helplessness that he had since sworn never to feel again.

"I hope he's okay..."

"He's fine, Al."

Al turned to look at his brother in surprise. "But...!"

Ed pulled his blankets more tightly around him, rolling over so that Al couldn't see his face. "He's just being weird again. He gets like that a lot, it's no big deal, okay?"

He then shut his eyes and buried his face into the pillow, ready to go back to sleep. Al wanted to say something else, but he quickly realized that he wasn't going to get another word out of Ed. So he just sighed, got to his feet, and headed for the door.

"I hope you're right, nii-san," he said. "I'll let you sleep, then. I'll come back and wake you when it's time to eat."

Al stepped into the hallway and carefully shut the door behind him. He then wandered down the hall to continue exploring the mansion, leaving Ed to go back to sleep. But he didn't. Instead, Ed just stared at a spot on the floor, his mind racing, on full alert. He wasn't all that tired anymore.

Just as he had said, Al came back to wake Ed when it was time for breakfast a few hours later, but when he got there Ed had already taken a shower and was changing into a black sweatshirt and cargo pants. He braided his hair on the way to the dining room while telling Al about the misadventures he'd had during the Christmas party. He had just gotten to the part about his newly made fan club.

"So that's why you were trying to hide!" Al laughed.

Ed narrowed his eyes. "Shut up. It's not that funny."

"It's a little funny, nii-san."

"No, it's really not."

He twisted his face up in annoyance, flicking his finished braid over his shoulder. He then stuffed his hands into his pockets and glared straight ahead. Al continued to tease him light-heartedly as they descended the staircase and walked down the hallway toward the dining room. But as they passed the entrance to the living room, something caught Ed's eye and he froze. Al looked back at his brother, confused.

"Nii-san? What's-"

"Happy Christmas, da - Draco, you look terrible! Are you ill?"

The Elric brothers looked into the living room, where they could see Narcissa helping Draco up off the floor and onto his feet. She ran one hand over his head, trying to smooth down his currently tousled hair. She peered worriedly into his face, just the way a mother did when she thought her five-year old child caught a cold. Draco just looked back at her silently, his face as smooth and pale as marble. His gaze, though mostly cold and blank, seemed almost sad as he looked at his mother. Then, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, Draco pulled his mother into a tight embrace.

Narcissa was clearly startled. Her eyes shot wide open in shock as his arms wrapped about her and he buried his face into her hair. For a moment she didn't know how to react. Draco never hugged her, not since he was a child. And even then it was a rare occurrence, only happening in the absolute absence of his father. Draco gripped the material of his mother's robe and tightened his hold on her, as though he had no intention of letting her go. Then, gently, Narcissa pulled away and carefully lifted her son's head so she could get a better look at him.

"Darling... Is everything all right?"

Draco just looked at her for a few more moments before finally averting his eyes, as though he couldn't bear to look at her any longer. With his gaze still lowered to the ground, he slowly shook his head. Narcissa was more than a little confused, but still offered him a kind smile. After another moment of careful motherly examination, she kissed him on the forehead (forced to raise herself up onto her toes to do so), took him by the hand, and led him toward the dining room.

"Let's get you something to eat. I'm sure that will make you feel much better..."

Edward remained standing in the doorway, following the mother-son pair with his eyes. It was the first time he'd seen with his own eyes just how much Narcissa cared for her only son. He'd never doubted that she loved him, but he'd never actually seen any displays of affection between them. And as he watched Lady Malfoy dote on her sixteen-year old son, Ed was painfully reminded of his own mother. He could practically see her in front of him, laying a gentle kiss over a band-aid that she had just put on one of his wounds. It was the love of a mother. Irreplaceable. Undeniable.

Apparently, Al was reminded of the exact same thing. "She reminds me of..."

"Yeah..." Ed quickly looked away, his frown deepening sadly.

"I miss her."

Ed was silent for a second longer, his eyes lowered to the floor. "Me too, Al."

He then continued on his way to the dining room, Al following after him.

Breakfast was relatively uneventful. Narcissa and Roy were flirting again, as they did all the time. He also presented her with a Christmas present: tickets for a private cruise around the Caribbean islands, good for any time of the year. In spite of the fact that it was relatively Muggle in nature, Narcissa was all for the idea of spending some time alone on a beautiful yacht with Roy. Ed gagged and made a face, which Al couldn't help but laugh at in spite of himself. However, Draco didn't react to it at all. In fact, it seemed as though he hadn't noticed anything that went on around him since he sat down.

The table was filled with all sorts of traditional Christmas specialties, like potato pancakes and some dish called "angels on horseback." Ed had some of everything on the spread and had even instructed Al to "try some" so that he could eat more later. Narcissa and Roy were practically feeding each other. Only Draco seemed to have no appetite. After having just a few bites, he spent the rest of the time at the table poking what was left on his plate with his fork. He eventually got up and wordlessly left the table ahead of everyone else, heading for his bedroom.

After breakfast, just as Ed and Al began to ascend the staircase to go back to their room, Mustang stopped them.

"Fullmetal," he called in a firm, soft voice. Ed paused on the staircase to glare at him. "I want you to keep a close eye on him today."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Somehow, I've got this sneaking suspicion that he's not gonna be that much trouble today. Y'know, just a hunch, considering he hasn't said a single word all morning."

"Even more reason to stick with him. His behavior has been very concerning. If something's going on with him, then I want you to be on top of it."

"Wow, Mustang, are you actually worried about him? I guess you must really like Narcissa. You're really gettin' involved in this new relationship. You play the father role incredibly well."

Mustang narrowed his eyes. "Fullmetal."

"Sheesh, touchy."

"Just try talking to him. Start acting like a friend."

"Keep your pants on, I've got this."

Then, not allowing the colonel to get another word in, Ed continued up to the top of the staircase, where Al had been waiting quietly for them to finish. Roy cleared his throat and adjusted his necktie as he went off to find Narcissa. He had no intention of keeping his pants on for much longer.

It seemed like the only part of the Malfoy household that was enjoying any sort of festive Christmas spirit was the part that hovered over Roy and Narcissa. They both had mistletoe somewhere on their person, ready to be dangled over their heads whenever they pleased. Narcissa had planned to take Draco out of the house together with Roy to "enjoy one another's company" (Ed gagged again), but her son had apparently locked himself away in his room, which made family bonding between them virtually impossible. Ed and Al tried desperately to remember what they used to do together during Christmas (apart from exchange gifts) but failed. So, between Ed's naps and despite his protests against the cold, they spent the day sparring in the courtyard and hanging out. It was better than doing nothing. So with Narcissa and Roy out of the house, Draco holed up in his bedroom, and Ed's numerous naps, the day just seemed to fly by.

Before long the sun was sinking into the horizon and it was almost time for dinner. Punctual as ever, Roy and Narcissa had just got back from... wherever they had gone all day, and the first thing they did was demand that everyone be at the dinner table that night for a Christmas feast. Al, being the only person they could find, was practically ordered to wake Ed for the meal.

Easier said than done. It was even harder to wake Ed up when he wasn't fighting back.

"Nii-san?"

Al gently shook his older brother by the shoulder. Ed tried to wave him away, saying something in a voice so exhausted that it was completely incoherent. It was easy to understand Ed's exhaustion; he had lost a dozen sparring matches in a row that day and hadn't slept very well through the night. Al would have been fine with letting him sleep, but he knew that if he didn't wake him, the colonel would employ his own methods ("roast the sleeping shrimp!"), which would only cause unneeded stress for everyone.

"Nii-san."

"Hnn...?"

"Get up, nii-san, we have to go downstairs."

"Hnn..."

"Colonel Mustang-"

"GRRNN..."

"He's pretty much ordering you to-"

"GRRRRNNN...!"

Mentioning the colonel obviously wasn't going to help. Al decided to change his tactics. "It's time for dinner."

Ed was silent for a moment. He then groggily sat up, the mist of sleep still visible on his face. "Dinner...?"

"Uh-huh."

He turned his head so that he was looking at Al. "What're we havin'?"

Al practically beamed at his success. "I'm not sure, but the colonel says it'll be a real feast."

There was another moment of silence as Ed contemplated his options. He could always ignore Mustang in favor of getting some more much needed sleep and possibly get in trouble. That sounded like fun. Unfortunately for Ed and his rebellious streak, the growling of his stomach convinced him to obey. Shaking off the drowsiness, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and forced himself to pull on his boots.

"Bastard colonel," he grumbled. "It's like he thinks he's our dad or somethin'..."

"He's only trying to help maintain your cover."

"I don't see how calling us down for dinner helps maintain our cover, Al. If he was gonna pretend to be our father, then he should've done that a long time ago, and I'm very glad he didn't. I'd hate to have to go around introducing myself as Edward Mustang." He shuddered. "Just the thought of it makes me completely nauseous."

Even Al had to admit that he had a hard time imagining himself as Alphonse Mustang. The Mustang brothers? It just felt wrong.

By now Ed had finished strapping up his boots and the two of them were out the door. Ed was already halfway down the hall, determined to get there fast, eat fast, and quickly go back to sleep. Ideally, this time he wouldn't wake up until late the next morning. He could feel all of his senses dying out from his mental and physical exhaustion. Al trailed behind, making sure that the door was shut before following his brother. But when he turned to hurry down the hall, he hesitated.

Ed looked back over his shoulder. "Hurry up, Al!"

"But... What about Mr. Draco?"

He flinched slightly. "What about him?"

"We should tell him that dinner's served." Al looked worriedly at the door to Draco's room. "He must be hungry. I mean, he skipped lunch, so..."

Al took a few steps toward the door and was about to knock, but Ed quickly moved to stop him, taking hold of his wrist. The younger Elric was about to protest, but the solemn look on Ed's face was so surprising that he didn't say a word.

"Don't," he told Al softly. "He'll come down when he wants to come down."

He then released Al's wrist and resumed his walk toward the staircase. Al watched him for a moment, stunned. Most of the time, Edward was even harder to understand than Alphonse, in spite of the fact that he was the one with a human face. It was never easy to tell what was going on in that head of his. The only thing that Al knew for sure was that, no matter what, when Ed was being that serious, he had no choice but to trust him.

With a deep, reverberating sigh, Al stole another glance at Draco's door before moving to follow his older brother.

As promised, their Christmas dinner was a true feast. The table was filled with just about every Christmas recipe ever made, the prized centerpiece being the biggest roast turkey Ed had ever seen in his life. There were actually several turkeys in the spread, but the one in the center dwarfed all the others. There were cakes and other goodies scattered amongst the platters of roast potatoes and vegetables, prime ribs, stuffed pork loin roast, bread sauce, cranberry sauce and gravy, several different kinds of pudding (some with brandy butter, others without), and tons of other dishes that looked and smelled incredible.

Ed didn't hesitate to dig in. He loved the food so much that he almost considered thanking the colonel for making Al wake him, but he thought better of it. Al gathered some food as well, saving them for Ed to eat later, but desperately wishing that he could at least have a taste. Yet once again, Draco seemed to have no appetite. He came down to the meal late, which earned him a mild scolding from his mother, and spent the majority of his time at the table just picking at the food on his plate with a fork and knife. Though it seemed like he was trying his best to disguise it, Draco looked even more sullen than he was that morning. Roy shot Ed a meaningful look, at which Ed gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

The attempt at normalcy on Draco's behalf was fairly impressive. He remained at the table until everyone was finished and even managed to lap up almost half of what was on his plate. But his presence on their way upstairs was putting a damper on Al's cheerful mood. The entire walk was silent and awkward. Al was too nervous to try to start up a conversation. Ed had his own reasons for remaining silent, as did Draco.

As they drew nearer to their rooms, Draco's pace increased. He strode more quickly toward his room, flung open the door and quickly slammed it shut behind him. Al flinched slightly, glancing up at one of the lamps that dangled from the ceiling as it shook slightly with the impact of the door. He then sighed, looking at Ed.

"Nii-san-"

"I've been with you all day, don't go thinkin' I've done something to him."

Al was taken aback slightly, but kept himself quiet as he moved toward their door. Ed kept his eyes on the ground, lost in his own thoughts. Then suddenly, he caught sight of a crumpled slip of parchment sticking out from under Draco's bedroom door. He walked over to it, bending down to pull it out from where it was wedged. It must have gotten stuck there when Draco slammed his door shut.

"Nii-san?"

Ed carefully smoothed the parchment out as he straightened to his full height. It was covered in ink, a long note or letter that was written in what Ed immediately recognized to be Draco's handwriting. Harsh, yet elegant looking strokes that was most likely the result of years of proper high society upbringing. The ink was blotched slightly in some places and some words had been blacked out, but it was still legible. And so Ed began to read:

I must have started a hundred letters to you, never knowing how to begin. I have sat like this one too many times in some illusion of glory, with a quill in hand and numerous crumpled pieces of parchment scattered across my bedroom floor. I hold my breath as I write each word, wondering why each one of them seems to give me so much grief. I must be foolish in thinking that somehow writing this would bring me closer to you. Hell, I don't deserve to be closer to you. You owe me nothing and I am nothing to you. I'm just an image, a representation, an epitome of your rage and anger, where all your frustration and fears turn me into something of meaning to you. But that's all I'll ever be. You hate me…and I don't blame you. Merlin knows I deserve that. But I'm not asking for your sympathy. I don't need pity nor do I need compassion, least of all from you. I don't write this expecting something - some miracle. I don't believe in them. Not anymore.

There are so many things I want to say to you; so many things that you need to know. I wish I could tell you that I never meant to cause you so much pain, that I am not the person you think I am, that I can be someone who…but I lack the courage. I am such a coward because I know that I meant every single word of that. I am so much of a goddamned coward that I hide behind the mask of the person I should have been, the ideas I should have believed, the misleading uncertainties and irrational fears that was supposed to be me. But now, I don't even have the slightest clue who I am. I have spent so many years being this one person; this thing that I hated beyond belief but have never stopped being. I can never be the person to make you smile, make you laugh, evoke any positive feeling out of you. I can never be the person who would protect you, who would stand up for you, who would love you…

No, I am not that person. No matter how much I wish I were, how much I pray for it everyday, but I cannot be that person for you. Those privileges were never meant for people like me. I don't know what love is. I am not sure I have even experienced it. I just know that when I look at you, hear your voice, catch your scent, or even when I allow my mind the slightest thought of you, I get a feeling that is so agonizing yet incredibly invigorating at the same time. And I hate you for it. That is probably the only thing that I have been honest about. I hate you. I do. I hate you for being of Muggle heritage, I hate you for being my rival's best friend, I hate you for making me feel things I know I shouldn't be feeling, especially for someone like you. It goes against everything I have ever thought and have ever believed in. With you, nothing in my life makes sense anymore. I can't even make sense in my own mind anymore.

Do you think that I brought this kind of insanity upon myself? That I haven't tried to stop it, tried to hold it back, tried to deny it, tried fervently convincing myself over and over and over again that this was nothing; that this whole madness would pass? This is all your bloody fault, you know that. If you had never entered my life, if you had never existed in the first place, none of these things would have happened. I would have never endured all the anguish, the suffering, the sorrow of wanting something I could never have. I would have never displayed disloyalty to my family, be betrayed by my own thoughts, or felt guilt of wanting to be someone that I'm not.

But, then again, I would never have experienced so much contentment, so much freedom, and so much happiness even for just one blissful moment. But it drives me insane to know how wrong it is to feel that way. Happiness is something I cannot afford to feel. It rules against my family's ideals of duty, obligation, and honour. And I don't know what gives you any right to make me realize that there are far more important things than that. And all you had to do was to be your damned noble self. I hate you for doing this to me, but most of all I hate you for taking away all logic and all reason from the world I thought I knew. Yet, in my strange revelation, I never knew that the person I despised so much was the same person I so longed to be with.

However, we can never be together…and I have to live with that knowledge every single day of my life. I know you will always feel nothing but hatred towards me. And I know you long to be with someone else. You will never be laughing with me the way you laugh with him, you will never seek comfort in me the way you seek comfort in him, and you will never look at me the way you look at him. It kills me to know that you are exactly who you should be with. But deep down, I know he doesn't deserve you. Every time he ignores you, every time he takes you for granted, there is only so much keeping me from killing him with my bare hands. I know that he will never appreciate you the way I do. Despite all of that, I know that you will never be able to see past the mask I have worn for all of these years.

I can no longer protect you for I have placed you in a very dangerous position. Others, who have the ability to hurt many, have found out about my feelings towards you. They believe that you have become a threat to me and to them and they will do everything in their power to stop you. I can't let that happen, I have to end this. I can only say I'm sorry so many times. I want you to know that I never meant for this to happen but I should have expected it, instead of letting my selfishness and foolishness consume me. At the beginning of the year, I was assigned something that will without a doubt hurt you and everyone you care about. But I have no choice. If I refuse or if I fail to do it, the only person that I have left in the world will die because of it. And if I succeed, I will never forgive myself if I hurt you once again.

The fear that is gripping my heart for most of these days is the possibility that you may die. It is funny how much I have denied the existence of having a heart until I felt it breaking. I know I shouldn't care, I know you should mean nothing to me, and I should just focus on the job at hand, but every time I do it I am slowly dying inside. The thought of you lifeless, dead - I can't even begin to imagine it. Life will go on, the world would continue spinning, but the one thing that made me feel alive, even for a short while, would be gone for good. You'll never know how much you've saved me from this hateful person I've become and from the raging lies and fear that I was fed over and over again. But, despite that, I cannot stop what I'm doing. No matter how much it is killing me. Why does our world have to be so full of prejudices and discrimination? Why does everything that surrounds us have to be so complicated and conflicted? When can we finally break through and find freedom, looking beyond what our world deems most vital? When will I find a way to ever be with you?

You will probably never get to read this or many of the other letters that I have written. However, this is the last and final one that I would ever write to you. I know I said that I don't know what love is, but I don't know how to explain it any other way. I promised myself that for once in my life, I would tell the truth. I would stop denying everything I say or do; it will never prove anything and that is not fair to you. So, as I end this, without you ever knowing how strongly I felt for you, all the pain and pleasure you have given me, the prison and sanctuary I found in you, it has finally become clear to me. And I need to say it before all courage fails me again.

I love you, Hermione Granger.

Goodbye forever,
Draco

Ed blinked, more than a little stunned by what he'd just finished reading. His eyebrows coming together in confusion, he quickly scanned through the letter again.

It was a confession. No, it was a warning. Or was it both?

It was tragic. That's what it was, really. And as Ed's eyes reviewed each line, he began to wonder if the blotches of ink were tears. Draco Malfoy's tears. Ed shook his head vigorously, frustrated. No matter how hard he tried, the image was still hard to form in his mind, much less be accepted.

"Nii-san, what's wrong?"

The sound of Al's voice immediately pulled Ed out of his thoughts. He turned slightly so that he was looking at Al over his shoulder and plastered a sheepish smile across his face.

"It's nothing, Al," he assured him.

"Are you sure?"

He turned around and walked across the hall, stuffing his hands into his pockets and smiling at his younger brother. "Positive! By the way, Al, I don't think I got to greet you, so... Merry Christmas!"

"H-Huh? Oh, Merry Christmas to you, too."

"I'll send you a present later. Anything in particular that you wanted?"

"Oh! Really? Well, um..."

"No cats."

Al sighed dejectedly, swinging the door to their room shut. Before it was closed all the way, Ed cast one last look at Draco's door, hiding a frown. His fingers slowly curled around a ball of parchment in his pocket.


Author's Note: bwahahaha, the angst continues. there's also a lot of mood swinging in this chapter. mostly 'cause Ed's doing a lot of covering up for Draco… he's been at the bottom of the valley of despair before, so he knows well enough to give Draco some time to recover and some room to breathe. just as a note about when Ed was all depressed and stuff, that's some more manga stuff. when Mustang first saw Ed, he was sitting in a wheelchair dressed in these big clothes, staring down into his lap or at the floor, and he didn't say a single word the entire time Mustang was there. and then there's Draco's letter…

OKAY. Draco's amazingly dramatic, heartfelt, and otherwise fantastically written letter was not written by me. It was written by CSAG's godparent, MJade-1. She has also uploaded it to as a separate story in the Harry Potter category. I probably have a few readers who came across that letter beforehand and got directed to CSAG, so I would like to greet those people now (assuming that they've stuck it out all the way through the story so far). HELLO! If you've made it this far, then many thanks and I really hope you're enjoying this story and aren't confused by the FMAness.

EDIT: just in case anyone is wondering why Draco wrote that letter, it's because he just needs to get those thoughts and feelings out of his system. it's a fairly common practice for someone to write a letter to someone and not send it, just as a way to let it all out.