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... Over the months, Ed's learned a lot of new things, one of them being "never stick your nose in where it's not wanted." But now it's too late to back out. Something must be done, before the situation gets any worse... FMA/HP crossover. kinda sorta may possibly be slightly AU with HBP and with FMA. rated T for language.

Disclaimer: For reasons beyond my control (and greatly to my own disappointment), I do not own the Fullmetal Alchemist or Harry Potter series. FMA belongs to the great and mighty Hiromu Arakawa, and HP belongs to the equally great and mighty J.K. Rowling. The idea of this story belongs to the not quite as great and mighty me. The story is my baby. MJade-1 is its only godparent:D

Message from the Author: Sorry this took so long, guys. I got possessed/obsessed/addicted to joining roleplay communities on LiveJournal, and it just completely consumed me with its fun times. XD And my co-writer's been out of the country for the summer, so it was hard getting work done on CSAG, what with time differences and stuff happening... and then reading book 7 took a while (snarl snarl roar so much death WHY WHY, SO UNNECESSARY THE DEATHS!)...

And, I was planning on replying to as many reviews as possible, but... there are so many right now! Are you guys multiplying, or what? Heehee... Makes me so happy... (cries tears of joy) So just know that I love you all so much for all the reviews, and I'm so glad that so many people are enjoying the story!!

BUT ANYWAYS! Here's the next chapter! You've all been so very patient and kind, so you deserve it! Yaaaay, update!

Chapter 35
Session

The manor was old and run down, damp, derelict, and unoccupied, and received no visitors other than the occasional group of teenagers that took stupid dares or liked pranks. Many years ago it might have been a fine-looking place, easily the largest and grandest building for miles around. It stood on a hill overlooking the village, with some of its windows boarded, tiles missing from its roof, and ivy spreading unchecked all across its face. Most of the estate was now inhabited by one or two rats, but even they had grown frightened of the place in recent years.

Now more than ever the nearby villagers proclaimed the place haunted. No one could get close to the place without unbidden chills running up and down their spines. And more often than not, whenever someone looked at the place they just turned away and quickly ran off to more important business. No one went there. Everyone tried to forget that it loomed above them from the hill top.

It was all this and so much more that made it the perfect nestling ground for a group of Dark Art practitioners. And so one boarded up window could be found with the dim orange glow of a fire flickering behind it. A thick, silky voice that seemed to hiss slightly issued from within the room, addressing a group of black-robed figures gathered there. The owner of the voice paced the room slowly, his own wispy black robes trailing across the floor and raising up small dust clouds behind him. It gave the overall appearance of smoke, billowing at his feet, and making him seem all the more mysterious... All the more sinister.

He wasn't happy. This much the other people in the room knew without saying. And when their master wasn't happy, people had a tendency to be tortured... Sometimes killed. One of their members, not donned in the same black, hooded robes but rather in tattered rags that vaguely resembled an old brown suit, was already cowering and whimpering in the corner. The flickering firelight barely reached him there, and he was only just visible to everyone else. They all knew what had happened to him. They knew better than to ask after him.

Not that any single one of them really cared. It wasn't in their nature to really care for anything outside the realm of their own personal interests. That was why they had become his followers. That was why he had deemed them worthy of being his immediate subordinates.

But tonight... he was displeased with each of them. They were expendable, really. Even if they had dwindled and were not nearly as powerful in number as they had been a year ago, he was positive that he would find others - better, more competent ones - to replace any that were lost. He'd had to replace several of them already; it hadn't been very difficult.

"It's been over five months since last we heard from him," he said in a soft hiss, addressing no one in particular. "Why hasn't the task been done?"

"We... We cannot contact him while he is in Hogwarts, my lord," someone said, picking his words with great care before voicing them. "Perhaps it is already-"

"Impossible," he hissed again, a little more loudly and angrily this time. "If it were done we would know it, such an act cannot go unheard. I would have felt it... The havoc it would cause... The pain and sorrow would weigh so heavily on that cursed boy..." His scarlet eyes flashed as he swept toward the man who had suggested such an imbecilic thing. "I would feel it."

The man seemed to be trembling underneath his robes, but all that anyone could see was the paling of the visible parts of his face. Slowly, the Dark Lord pulled away from him and resumed walking around the circle of black-robed figures. A whimper was heard from the far corner of the room. It was ignored.

"Perhaps it was a mistake to send him," somebody else suggested.

This made the pale, scarlet-eyed man whirl around in a quiet rage. "I... do not make mistakes," he hissed dangerously, crossing the circle and advancing on the man. He drew his wand. "Crucio!"

A jet of green light exploded from the end of it and hit the man. He immediately fell to the ground, screaming and writhing with the absolute pain and torture of the spell. Eventually, the spell was lifted, leaving him twitching on the floor in the midst of a dust cloud. His master loomed threateningly over him, and the small circle had expanded slightly to give them a wider berth.

"I... I meant no d-disrespect, m-m-master," the man gasped, trying desperately to pull himself back up off the floor.

"Then enlighten me, Gibbon." The Dark Lord leaned forward slightly, reaching forward and grabbing up his subordinate by the chin. He forced Gibbon to look him directly in the face as he spoke. "What exactly did you mean by your foolish words…?"

"I... I..." Gibbon swallowed, gathering his wits as quickly as possible. He then blurted out, "He is weak, master! H-He cannot-"

"The Malfoy boy knows exactly where he stands. He knows what is at stake and it would be foolish of him to dawdle... whittle the time away while his family teeters on the brink of annihilation... You were last to speak with him, Gibbon. Tell me! Did he really think I would wait patiently until the end of the school year?"

"H-He said..."

"I am tired of waiting!"

The screaming and yelling was renewed and doubled as the Cruciatus Curse was inflicted on Gibbon again. He fell back to the floor and he collapsed in a crumpled heap of black robes, twisting and writhing in his mind-numbing pain. But, determined to say his part, he struggled to pull himself back up off the floor. He choked back his pained yells, fighting himself to get out something coherent. The pain increased exponentially and he writhed and clawed at nothing. It was like fighting the dark veil of death itself...

"M-Mal... f-foy..." A mangled shout was wrenched from his throat. "M-Mas...ter... I... He..."

The snake-like nostrils of his master's nose flared, his eyes widening. It was almost as though he was curious to hear what could possibly be so important for Gibbon to say, but he showed no signs of relenting. A sadistic smile was dancing at the corners of his mouth.

"He... He...!" Then, mustering every ounce of strength left to him in the midst of the torture, Gibbon bellowed, "Young Malfoy is desperately infatuated with Potter's Mudblood!"

The reaction from everyone else was instant. The curse was lifted and all eyes in the room were now on Gibbon. An audible gasp was heard from all of the hooded onlookers, followed by a tense silence broken only by Gibbon panting and wheezing and gagging on his own catching breath. Then one of the figures stepped forward, throwing back the hood and revealing the face of a woman with heavy-lidded eyes and a tangle of long, wild dark hair.

"Impossible!" she cried. "My nephew would never associate himself with that sort of filth!"

Another figure stepped forward to challenge the woman, also throwing back his hood to reveal his own weedy-looking appearance. "Your nephew is a traitor! I knew he was a fickle, spineless boy! A Mudblood no less! Does he dare degrade his honor and his father's for this impure creature?!"

The woman's eyes grew wide and she set a horrible glare on the other man. Her wand was out in an instant, aimed for the weedy man's throat. "How dare you insult my family, Nott! Your jealousy is obvious, you and your pathetic worm of a son could never measure up-"

"At least my boy has never done anything so dishonorable as to become infatuated with Muggle filth!"

"Hold your tongue! Else I'll torture you into madness and then-"

"Do your worst, Lestrange!" Nott spat, a slight quaver in his voice undermining the dare. "Your insanity has obviously clouded your judgment-"

"SILENCE!"

The Dark Lord thrust his arms out and a surge of wandless magic pushed the two back into their places in the circle. The argument ceased at once with the intervention. Their master glanced at both of them in turn, then he slowly turned his red-eyed gaze on Gibbon, who was clearly struggling to remain conscious on the floor. Just as slowly, a wicked smile crossed his lipless face.

"Actually... Young Draco's infatuation could prove interesting..."

"My lord," protested Lestrange, turning pleadingly to her master. "This accusation is rubbish, we all know such a thing is impossible. It's unthinkable!"

"Then a test." The Dark Lord turned to address Nott. "As useless an embarrassment your son may be, Nott... He still as yet may be of some use to me."

Despite the insult fed into his words, Nott all but threw himself at his master's feet. "Oh please, my lord... Any aid my son can give you is the greatest honor you can ever bestow on my family."

There was a flicker of amusement in the dark wizard's eyes. "I don't think it would hurt to speed up young Malfoy's initiation process."

Confused, Nott stared up at his master. "My lord?"

"Your son's mission..." The evil smile on his face broadened ever so slightly. "Is to retrieve the Mudblood."

True to his word, Harry didn't tell anyone about Ed's auto-mail. No rumors about it emerged from any part of the school, let alone from Harry and his fellow Gryffindors. Draco had also remained quiet about it, and if Ed didn't know any better he would have said that the Malfoy heir knew nothing of it. He chose not to find out why the Slytherin wasn't the least bit curious. Ed was in no mood to retell his cover-up story. He never was, really. He really did hate talking about his background. Even just lying about the condition of his arm felt like a stab to the heart. He preferred the relative peace and quiet that he was getting for once in his life.

More than once he tried retelling the story of what had happened that night in the bathroom to the Slytherins, trying to make it sound less like it was all Harry's fault, but each attempt had failed miserably. Eventually, having reached a point that was somehow above and beyond the limits of his temper, Ed gave up on his Housemates completely.

Life at Hogwarts went on. The last Quidditch match of the year ended positively, or so Ed heard... he hadn't gone to watch the game, partly because of Draco, partly because of disinterest. He'd spent the afternoon in the dormitory, re-examining his books and research. Al told him later, in minute detail, all about how Ginny had won the game for them. He'd used Quidditch terms that were completely alien to Edward in his explanation, which had earned him a blank, almost horrified stare.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he'd muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "You know that, right?"

"But it was really fun, nii-san! You should have gone to watch, I really think you would've enjoyed it, too!"

Ed gave a sly, teasing grin. "Was watching the game fun, or was it watching Ginny in action?"

"I-It was the game!" Al stuttered, but Ed could tell his little brother was blushing profusely.

"You're way too into this world, Al," Ed laughed. "Next you'll be asking me to get you your own wand and enroll you here."

There was no verbal response. Al just bowed his head. Ed got a horrible feeling that he'd been planning on doing just that.

The next few weeks rolled by slowly. There was some bustling going on with the Ravenclaws as they started to study more feverishly than ever. Ed noted that a few Gryffindors and even a sparse few Slytherins were picking up their textbooks and reading them more intently. For a while, the reasoning behind this was unfathomable, but a glance at a calendar hanging on the wall near Draco's bed was all Ed needed. The final exams were coming up.

In all honesty, Ed could have cared less about a bunch of tests. He practically made sure that everyone else knew this at every opportune moment.

"Royal straight flush."

Ed splayed the full hand of cards out on the table, earning him a collective, frustrated groan from the other players (Zabini and two Slytherins that Ed had never spoken to before and had simply wanted his help). They all threw down their cards on the table as Ed "innocently" grinned up at them.

"How is that you always win this game, Elric?" Zabini said with a slight scowl on his face. "I mean, almost every single time."

The young blonde shrugged. 'Three words: sleight of hand.' "Experience, maybe?"

Zabini's scowl grew. The two other Slytherins got up and left, sneering slightly at Ed for winning his way out of his - as they had called it - "duties as a swot". Draco, who had been lounging on a couch nearby with some kind of book about repairing things in his hands, shook his head and rolled his eyes at the display. He was the only other person in the room that knew Ed was cheating.

"One more go, Elric," said Zabini, leaning forward on the table. "C'mon."

"That's your thirty-fourth loss, Zabini," Draco drawled, flipping the page in his book. "Not tired of losing yet?"

"I never tire of anything," he retorted smugly. "Not until I win for once."

"You should listen to Malfoy," Ed chided, still grinning as he reached over to grab his deck of cards. "He's a lot smarter than you are."

"And you should learn to stop playing poker against Elric," Draco added. "You'll never beat him."

Ed nodded as he tapped the cards with his wand. "Damn straight."

Zabini frowned at both of them. "Fine. One more game, and if I lose this one-"

"Again," Ed interjected.

"-then I'll get back to hitting the books."

Smirking, Ed watched the deck shuffle itself for a minute. When it finally settled down in an obedient pile on the table in front of him, he picked it up and prepared to deal. "You want more players, Zabini? Go three on one, increase your chances of winning?"

At the mere suggestion Zabini made an annoyed face at Ed, but didn't hesitate to look around the common room in search of somebody to invite into the game. He waved down Nott as he emerged from his dorm room and started for the exit.

"Hey Nott! Help me beat Elric at a game of poker, eh? He says he'll help us get ready for exams if we win."

Nott looked tiredly over at them and groaned. "Aren't you getting a little old for card games, Zabini?" he snapped. "Unlike you, I'm preoccupied with more important things."

He then resumed walking and quickly left the room. Ed and Draco each raised an eyebrow at the display, but quickly shrugged it off. Neither of them had any particular favor of any kind toward the older boy and could have cared less about what he was doing. And Ed had long since decided that Theodore Nott was some kind of psycho, being a young Death Eater and all that. Zabini wrinkled his nose in disapproval and turned away, settling back into his place at the table.

"Fine, be a complete arse," he muttered. "Let's get this started, eh, Elric?"

Ed shrugged and started to deal. "Fine."

Not surprisingly, Zabini lost the game to Ed's better hand of a straight in diamonds and was forced to concede to get back to studying. Ed grabbed up his playing cards again, opting this time to shuffle them himself out of boredom. He watched as Zabini pulled out his miscellaneous textbooks and rolls of parchment from his bag. Ed grinned as he looked on, feeling pleased with himself. Soon enough Crabbe and Goyle moved back in and took their places. They actually had textbooks in their hands and one of them was actually explaining a concept to the other. As Ed listened to his explanation, he dimly realized that he was still getting it wrong.

After a few moments, Zabini glanced up from his books and turned to Ed. "Does it really bother you that much to spare a second to help us, Elric? Why don't you just tutor us already?"

Looking across the table at the boy in the midst of all those textbooks, Ed briefly wondered if that was what he looked like when researching something. He pushed the thought from his mind; It wasn't important either way, really. He merely leaned back, stashing his cards away with an indignant snort.

"Why should I?"

One of the Crabbe/Goyles gave Ed a pleading look. "'Cause we're your mates!"

Ed rolled his eyes. 'Yeah. Right.'

"C'mon, Elric," Zabini urged again. "Just look at these two pathetic little faces. You'd let them down?"

He gestured to Crabbe and Goyle, both of whom took the initiative to look as pathetic as they could (which really was pretty damn pathetic and not altogether too difficult for them to do). Ed sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes skyward.

"Yeah, actually. I think I would."

All three boys looked crestfallen and Ed couldn't help but smirk.

Just then, Pansy wandered over, a small legion of Slytherin girls behind her and a textbook in her hands. She perched herself on the arm of the couch where Draco was sitting and turned to the boy, pointing to a diagram on the page.

"Drakey, can't you explain this bit? I just can't understand it..."

Draco barely glanced up from his book. "Ask Elric."

Ever one to follow Draco's commands, Pansy now turned pleadingly to Edward. And, much to his annoyance, so did every one of Pansy's followers. "Ed-dyyyy..."

Ed fixed a glare on Draco. "Traitor."

He didn't look up, but the classic Draco Malfoy smirk crossed the boy's face.

"Just have a look at this, the other girls and I just can't-"

"No," Ed retorted, throwing Pansy and the other girls a venomous look. The girls all whined in protest like a bunch of kicked dogs and instantly shrank back to their dark corner of the common room. Only Pansy remained perched on the arm of the couch, frowning deeply at the two boys who refused to help her. Ed then turned back around, only to find himself faced with three pathetically pleading faces. He groaned loudly, wanting nothing more than to bang his forehead against the table.

"Look, I am not tutoring you guys for your exams. Just why the hell do you guys think I'd make a good tutor anyway?"

Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle all shrugged in unison. "'Cause you're smart?"

Scowling, Ed gently massaged his temple with his good hand. "If I had a hundred cenz for every time I heard that..."

Crabbe/Goyle blinked. "A hundred what?"

"Nothing. Never mind." Ed sighed and quickly rose to leave. "Just get Malfoy to do it."

"Please," Draco muttered. "I'm a very busy man, Elric. I can't be bothered with tutoring this lot."

"We love you, too, Malfoy," Zabini cooed mockingly.

"Touching, Zabini," Draco drawled. "But completely unrequited."

Thinking that maybe this applied to her as well (and being right in thinking so), Pansy stuck out her lower lip in a pout. Ed couldn't help but grin. He then yawned and stretched his limbs, glancing over at a nearby grandfather clock to find that it was getting close to midnight. So with one more stretch, he headed off toward the dorms.

"I'm off to bed. Have fun trying to study."

"Oh, come on, Elric!" Zabini continued to plead. He pulled out his wand, conjured up a jelly donut, made it float over to Ed, and had it hover tantalizingly under his nose. "You're our only hope! And if you help us, you can have this donut..."

Ed blinked at the donut in confusion, and then turned to look back at the Slytherins in mild shock. "O-kaaay... This is weird. Since when did you guys actually care about your grades?"

Zabini tutted and shook his head at Ed as though he were disappointed in him. "Elric, Elric, Elric... You can't conquer the world if you're a complete idiot."

"True, but you can help," Ed pointed out, grabbing the donut out of the air and taking a hearty bite out of it. "Just look at Crabbe and Goyle."

This comment made Draco scowl slightly, but nobody noticed. Crabbe and Goyle both looked confused. "What?"

"See?" Ed shoved the rest of the donut into his mouth. "Perfect minions. You'll be fine."

He then turned to leave again, but Zabini raced over to stop him. "Sorry, Elric, but I'm simply much too good-looking to be a mindless drone." Then a shocked look slowly crawled across Zabini's face as he looked at Ed, finally noticing that he was wiping crumbs off of his gloved fingers. "Did you just eat the donut I was bribing you with?!"

Ed smacked his lips and grinned. "Yummy."

Zabini made an annoyed face, which served only to make Ed's grin broaden.

"Can't you just quiz us or something, Eddy?" Pansy chimed from her place at Draco's side.

"Quit callin' me that!"

Pansy sank back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest and giving yet another little pout. She kept her eyes on Ed at all times, though. "You can be such a prat sometimes, Eddy."

"That's because you keep calling me 'Eddy'," he retorted, narrowing his eyes.

The Slytherin girl briefly turned away in a snobbish manner, only to turn back a moment later with the same pathetically insistent look on her face. Ed just glowered around the room until he realized that just about everyone (except for Draco) was giving him that same pleading, wounded deer look. It was uncharacteristically pathetic, and it almost worked in making Ed feel sorry for them. Though, naturally, he just so happened to know them better than that.

"And you call yourselves Slytherins," he grumbled. "This begging thing doesn't suit you at all."

"Just one question, Elric," Zabini said. "You owe me now. I mean, what happened to that 'equivalent exchange' rubbish you're always on about?"

"I don't owe you anything!"

"You ate the donut."

"That doesn't count."

"You ate... the donut."

"A donut in exchange for knowledge can hardly be called equivalent."

"That was a bribe, and you took it."

"It doesn't-"

"Just throw them a question," groaned Draco, apparently growing more and more aggravated by the unending argument. "You know they won't stop 'til they get what they want."

Ed gave Draco a dirty look. He didn't want to give in to these idiots! But unfortunately, he knew that Draco was right, and until he gave them some form of assistance, no matter how small, they would be jumping on his bed and keeping him awake all night. And if there was anything that Edward Elric appreciated more than anything in the world, other than good food, it was sleep.

With a heavy, world-weary sigh and a roll of his eyes, Ed turned around. "Argh, fine. Explain Golpalott's Third Law."

"Oh, I know that one!" Zabini cried triumphantly. He then twisted his face up in concentration. "It... It states that, erm... the antidote for a mixed - no, no, blended! For a blended poison will be, erm... equal to more than the, ah, the total sum of, of the antidotes for each..." He strained to remember. "For each... separate... component."

He then grinned. Ed clapped his hands lightly. "Good job, Zabini. But I told you to explain it, not recite its definition."

The taller boy's face fell, going from smug to shock in less than two seconds. Ed nodded curtly at him, announcing that one quiz question was more than enough for the jelly donut, then turned and headed for the dormitory.

Hermione let out a tired sigh and leaned back in her chair. It was getting pretty late, and the library had long since closed. Madam Pince only allowed her to stay there because she knew that Hermione was well behaved and wouldn't cause any sort of trouble or wreak havoc with the books. All she was doing that night was studying, anyway. That, and searching relentlessly for information about Harry's so-called "prince" and for an explanation of "horcrux." All she'd found was a short, two-sentence paragraph stating that it was a dangerous Dark Art that was not spoken of. Such a find only agitated her and her thirst for knowledge.

If that was all they knew, what was the point of writing about it all?

She yawned, hiding it behind her hand. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, but continued to press on in her studies. She leaned forward on the table, propping her head up with one arm, and turned to the next page. Her eyes slowly passed over each line, one after the other, taking in and committing their meanings to memory. Slowly... Slowly, her eyelids began to grow heavy. Her head started to droop.

She quickly woke herself, straightening in her seat and shaking her head to push the weariness away. Then, even more resolutely than before, Hermione folded her hands on the table in front of her and leaned over her book once again. But once again, sleep tugged at the insides of her eyelids and she began to doze off.

And as her eyelids finally shut all the way, a pair of hands reached out from the shadows and grabbed her from behind.

Note from the Author: Short and sweet, and worth it, hopefully? And... heehee. CLIFFHANGER DESU. Again!

Description of Riddle Manor taken almost word for word from J.K. Rowling's own from book 4. This chapter also has something of a tension breaker, between its very dramatic beginning and ending... It seemed all too necessary to pull away from the drama for half a second. Though I... did sorta dive right back into it at the end there... But that's beside the point. Point is, there was some humor in here. Love the Slytherins. LOVE THEM. XD Man, they can be so ridiculous sometimes...

Okay, I'm gonna try really hard to not take so long with the next update, so wish me luck on that! As always, please leave a friendly review on your way out!