The Deal

The start of term arrived quickly. Before Harry knew it, he was already flipping the Dursley’s backs goodbye through the Hogwarts Express windows. The summer had been brutal, from killer heat to terrifying dementors to frustrating court trials. He hadn’t heard from anyone that whole summer no thanks to Dumbledore. Ron and Hermione weren’t even able to ride with him to Hogwarts, either, being the new prefects they were. In a way, it felt like another reason for Dumbledore to keep him from talking to his friends. Harry didn’t know what the headmaster was thinking but hoped he’d be privy sometime soon. It didn’t feel right to have doubts.

The ride to Hogwarts was long and boring, so he slept for most of it with kids he barely knew, only deciding to move when it was time to change into his uniform. The robes felt nice, settling around his frame like a security blanket. 

The skeletal horses pulling the carriages were new, and Luna’s input didn’t ease any of the ominous feelings the sight their black leather skin brought forth. The ride to the castle from the train stop was as dark and beautiful as ever, however, little firsties laughing and pushing each other as they gathered around . . . Professor Grubbly-Plank? Where was Hagrid? 

Ron and Hermione shared the same confusion, questioning each other and Harry as if either of them knew anything the other didn’t. Though he supposed there was a lot he didn’t know, revelation after revelation thrust upon him like it was his eleventh birthday all over again. He didn’t appreciate the feeling. Harry sat sullen and silent for most of the ride, only responding to be a sarcastic arse to convey how displeased he was with his friends. They left him alone.

The sight of the castle felt like coming home.

Sitting in the Great Hall surrounded by his friends and classmates (despite their upturned noses at his claim about the most evil wizard making a reappearance) eased his spiteful attitude. He was actually able to smile, and Hermione beamed at him in response while Ron’s shoulders relaxed. He wasn’t ready to forgive them yet, but he didn’t want to let his night stay ruined. It was the first night of school term, after all. 

Finally feeling better, Harry took a long look at the Head Table. Almost everyone was in their seats, but Hagrid was still missing. 

“Who’s that lady in the pink?” Ron mumbled, frowning at what was surely a headache waiting to happen. She had a squat face and looked rather like a toad. Hermione’s nose had wrinkled at the mention, but her eyes were resting on another two new faces, sat immediately on Dumbledore’s left. 

“She was at my hearing!” Harry whispered excitedly. Finally, something he knew that his friends didn’t. 

“She works for the Ministry,” Hermione decided. “Look there, the couple next to Dumbledore. Do you suppose they also work for the Ministry?”

“No, but they look like they could be Cho’s family,” Harry said, and Hermione widened her eyes at him. 

“Harry Potter, what an outlandish thing to say!” 

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Ron said, fiddling with his fork and staring at his plate. Evidently he was hungry, but Harry couldn’t blame him. Food did sound rather nice. “They look foreign. Do you suppose they’re here for an event, like last year?”

“Hopefully it’s not deadly this time,” Harry muttered darkly, and Hermione huffed before sticking her nose in the air and turning away from them. 

“Absolutely barbaric,” she scowled. 

“Hermione,” Ron drawled, elbows propped on the table now to lean forward and stare at her meaningfully. “You have to admit, something is definitely dodgy this year.”

“Don’t mistake me for a daft girl, Ronald,” she sniffed. “You know very well it is your behavior I’m displeased with.” 

“Oh, my, well,” and here Ron adopted an outright snobbish tone, and Harry couldn’t help but grin and nod along with him. “Forgive me, dear lady, for my and mine fine fellow’s outlandish and gormless theatrics, dear lady - “

Hermione giggled, finally, and Harry laughed along with them. He felt truly relaxed now, and even the accidental sight of Malfoy mocking their laughter couldn’t dislodge this feeling of safety resting in his breast. 

The door to the Great Hall opened dramatically, stalling most of the chatter. Professor McGonagall walked through them purposefully and gracefully, with a pointed hat and emerald green velvet robes that draped across her thin shoulders and glided along the floor silently. First years trickled through in her wake, with big eyes and gaping mouths. It was always amusing to see, and Harry slumped against the table in remembrance of his own times as an ickle firstie.

“Look, those two, they don’t look like first years,” Hermione whispered sharply, gesturing to two blond-haired boys standing shoulder to shoulder. 

They weren’t gawking at the Great Hall’s lack of ceiling and weren’t looking around in wonder, but they were glancing around. Golden eyes were taking in the students, darting from face to face in an almost robotic scan. Hermione was right, they didn’t look like first years. One was doe-eyed and incredibly thin, but there was a set to his jaw that picked him to be a little older. The slightly shorter one looked older still, around Harry’s age, with broad shoulders and strong looking - arm. His other arm looked way skinnier. 

Curiouser and curiouser, as Ollivander would say. 

The Sorting Hat went through its usual song and introduction, though the focus on unity was a little startling. Each year leading up to this was about how different the four Houses were and what distinguished one House from the other, but now it talked about how the Houses could come together in times of great need. The foreboding was felt by everyone, it seemed, as there were few smiles and more widened eyes. A few students even eyed Harry and his friends down during the song, causing embarrassed anger to well up in his gut, threatening to ruin his good mood again.

“Arvic, Dole,” McGonagall said in the ensuing silence. The Sorting Hat seemed rather smug despite the lack of applause for its startling song. A small first-year boy trotted up the steps, eyeing the Hat apprehensively before seeming to steel himself and sit on the stool.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” the Hat shouted after settling on Arvic’s head, and the boy’s shoulders relaxed in the thundering joy of their yellow and black house. He beamed on his way to sit next to Tasmin Applebee. 

The two blond boys that stood with the first-years watched the Sorting with calculated eyes and still lips, and Harry and Hermione traded looks when McGonagall had cleared almost all of the first years. It seemed the boys were older.

“Welcome, first-year students!” Dumbledore said after the last kid was seated in Ravenclaw. “And welcome back, to our other years! This term is quite a special one as we welcome Edward and Alphonse Elric, our very first homeschooled transfer students!” 

“Homeschooled?” Ron questioned, and Hermione looked at them both with wide eyes. 

“Did he just say Alphonse Elric?” she hissed. 

“Is he famous?” Harry asked, vaguely aware of intense whispering around the Hall. Another Victor Krum? He hoped not. Hermione and Ron would definitely stop being friends with each other the whole year again, and he didn’t think he could handle that with the isolation he was already feeling, especially once the newness faded and his classmates doubled down on their fear of Voldemort. 

“He’s a medical alchemist, one of the only ones. But he’s rumored to be almost three hundred years old,” Hermione said. “Perhaps great-great-great-great-great grandchildren, named after him?”

“Are all alchemists up there?” Ron scoffed, astounded. Nicholas Flamel was rumored to live to 600-something. Another alchemist, and one that lived to be older than Dumbledore. 

“It seems to be that way, yes,” Hermione whispered, watching as Dumbledore raised his wand to his throat again. The Headmaster had let the Hall get their curiosity out, and now it was time to Sort the new kids.

“Please treat them with a very warm Hogwarts welcome!” 

McGonagall lifted the Sorting Hat once again and gestured to the stool. 

“Elric, Alphonse, third year,” she said, and Harry didn’t miss the fondness in her eyes even from his faraway seat.

The thin, taller boy (brothers, then) squeezed the shoulder of the shorter one and walked forward with a slight limp. Harry didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before, but he walked with a cane. The cane made a soft thud with each step, and the boy sat on the stool gingerly. McGonagall almost softly let it drop onto his head. 

The Sorting for this boy took even longer than Harry’s, which lasted a whole five minutes. By the three-minute mark the whispers started up again, all wondering at the mystery to be unraveled. 

“SLYTHERIN!”

The name Alphonse Elric was clearly very renowned, and the prideful snakes welcomed the frail-looking boy with snobbish glee. Harry was disappointed. The kid looked sweet, but he must have a heart like the rest of them. He was a third-year, too. Interesting.

“Elric, Edward, fifth year,” McGonagall announced in the lingering cheer. 

Edward, the only other person left in the middle of the hall, walked purposefully up the steps, shoulders squared and fire in his eyes. Harry knew immediately upon seeing his face in that determined frown that he was meant for Gryffindor. Harry started clapping before the boy even sat down.

Laughter from Gryffindor rang around the room, and the whole table, led by the Weasley twins, eagerly started clapping along with Harry, rising to thunderous applause even as the Hat finally settled on the blond’s head. Barely a second went by before the Hat announced with a rolling tongue,

“GRYFFINDORRR!”

Edward seemed to be reluctantly smiling on his way down, and Alphonse was clapping along with Gryffindor, yelling, “Go, Ed!” Some of the first and second-year Slytherins were laughing and clapping with the enthusiastic new third-year, and even Malfoy seemed to be considering Edward with calculating eyes. Alphonse Elric was famous, and anyone in the bloodline had the potential to rise to similar heights. Harry was enough of a Slytherin himself to reason that out, he couldn't lie.

Harry and Ron waved for Edward to sit in the open space in front of them, next to Hermione, and the boy sat with a relieved sigh. 

“‘Ello,” Ron and Harry greeted, and Hermione smiled at him brightly. “Edward Elric?”

“Yeah, but you can call me Ed,” he said. His voice was straightforward and sounded almost German-American. 

“Forgive my forwardness,” Hermione started, and Harry shared a Look with Ron, amused. “But are you and Alphonse related to the Alphonse Elric, the medical alchemist who lived to be over three hundred years old?”

Ed’s eyebrows rose. Harry was struck for the first time by how gold the boy’s eyes were. They were a honey brown earlier, in the dim lighting of the Great Hall at a distance, but now that they were close the gold was bright and reflective, like someone poured a gold bar through his ears to shine out of his irises. Harry had only seen Madame Hooch with eyes even similar, and that was because she had Harpy blood. Did Ed have Harpy blood?

“I wasn’t aware there was such a person,” Ed finally answered. “It’s interesting that he’s an alchemist, though. Do you have any records I can read?”

“Oh, yes, I’d love to show you,” Hermione breathed, bushy hair seeming to perk up at the mention of books and research. Ron snorted.

“Don’t get Hermione started, mate, she’ll show you every book in the castle if she could,” he teased, smirking. Hermione’s cheeks puffed in a show of aggravation, but her eyes were still amused. 

“Students,” Dumbledore said unexpectedly, and the excited chatter died down. “This year we have some more exciting news. As you can see, Professor Grubbly-Plank will be filling in for our dear Groundskeeper and new Professor Hagrid, who is away on vacation. Everyone, please welcome Professor Grubbly-Plank as your Care of Magical Creatures substitute.” 

A polite round of applause sprinkled through the Hall, and Hermione whispered, “I really wonder if Hagrid is okay.”

“It’s Hagrid,” Ron said. “He goes into the Forbidden Forest just for a morning stroll, the man will be fine.”

“Ron does have a point, ‘Mione,” Harry said. 

“Yes, but, with everything that’s happened recently I worry that -”

“I’d also like you all to welcome your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Dumbledore continued, interrupting confused chatter. “Professor Dolores Umbridge. I’m sure you’ll all join me in wishing our new professor some good luck -”

“Ahem.”

The interruption was quiet and girlish, but it did the job of stopping Dumbledore from continuing on. Harry frowned, and Hermione whispered, “Well that’s quite rude, isn’t it?”

Ed, Harry noticed, didn’t look surprised, and was eyeing Umbridge with what seemed to be a curious and weary stare. Ron was still sadly looking at his empty plate. 

Umbridge took center stage, smiling generously and clasping petite hands in front of her bulbous form. 

“Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome,” she started, voice sweet and prim. She sounded exactly how she looked, and the sweetness in her tone felt syrupy and cloying. It left a bad feeling in Harry’s stomach. “And how lovely to see all your bright, happy faces smiling up at me.”

Ed chanced a look around the room and snorted, and Harry had to share a smirk with Ron at that. 

“I’m sure we’re all going to be very good friends.” 

The lady’s tone turned from sweet to condescending too fast, and Hermione’s brow furrowed more and more the longer her inane introduction continued. 

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what must be perfected, and prune practices that ought to be . . . prohibited.”

Once finished, she let out a simple giggle and walked back to her seat. Flabbergasted at her audacity, Dumbledore started clapping and encouraged the student body to follow in his applause, but only a few students scattered some claps and quickly grew back to silence. 

“What does that mean?” Ron asked, aware there was something more but unable to piece it together. Harry was having the same problem and both looked to Hermione. 

“It means the Ministry is interfering in the way Hogwarts operates,” she said, solemn. 

“Three bets as to why,” Ed muttered, and Harry’s chest clenched. 

“You believe me, then,” he whisper-demanded. “You believe he’s back, that he was never dead?”

Ed looked at him with those intense eyes, like a bird of prey considering a tasty fish - and Harry felt like a fish, surrounded everywhere but alone and floundering around until something happened when he’d finally be able to do something other than swim in confusing circles. 

“I do believe you,” Ed said after a long moment. Harry slumped forward, suddenly exhausted, suddenly on the verge of crying in pure relief. Of course his friends believed him, but this stranger who had been homeschooled and not part of any of this besides what he probably read in the Daily Prophet . . . believed him. Not everyone out there was like Seamus’ mum. 

He felt validated. 

“I would also like us to welcome Alchemists Roy Mustang and Izumi Curtis to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore continued on, likely seeing a riot of hungry faces scowling up at him.

“When can we eat?” Ron complained, slumping further in his seat. Harry bopped shoulders with him in sympathy while Hermione scowled across the table.

“Alchemists?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Kind of a dead art to you all,” Ed observed. He had slouched forward enough to put his bulkier arm on the table, propping his head up.

“You are familiar with alchemy, then?” Hermione asked. “That’s why Alphonse Elric being an alchemist is interesting.”

“Izumi Curtis will be a new professor this term, starting an introductory alchemy class,” Dumbledore continued. “It’s been quite a few years since Hogwarts has hosted an alchemy professor, so let us show Professor Curtis some good Hogwarts cheer. Mister Roy Mustang will be visiting off and on to assist Professor Curtis, so let us also welcome Mister Mustang.

“I’m sure you are all ravenous by now so I will not keep you any further. Please, enjoy your welcome dinner! Pip pip!”

The tables bloomed with food and exclamations of joy and relief filled the Hall. Greedy hands reached for everything in their vicinity, and mouths chewed and gulped a variety of delicacies and drinks down in a matter of minutes.

“To answer your question, Hermione?” Ed started after a few moments of thoughtful eating. Hermione nodded - yes, that was her name. “Professor Curtis is our homeschool teacher. She taught us everything she knew. Since she couldn’t teach us anything else, she and Mustang decided that Al and I should get an education in magic, as well. Well rounded and all that.” 

“So you’re alchemists?” Harry asked, pausing to sip on some pumpkin juice. “It’s kind of funny that you’re alchemists but you don’t know about Alphonse Elric.”

“Harry, you didn’t know about Alphonse Elric either until I told you tonight,” Hermione admonished. Harry shrugged. He was naturally paranoid, but as Moody would say, CONSTANT VIGILANCE. 

“Our parents died when we were young,” Ed disclosed suddenly. The stab of shock Harry felt was only overshadowed by this unforeseen understanding he had with Ed now. He could feel the bond forming between the two of them right there, suddenly, knowing in his gut that Ed was going to change the course of his life, like meeting Ron and then Hermione. Like meeting Lupin and Sirius and Hagrid. “They didn’t have time to tell us anything, really. Teacher took us in for a while. Mustang came later. They’re good people.” 

Then he looked disgusted. “Well, Mustang is okay I guess.” 

Ron grinned at him. “You should meet my family, I’m sure Mustang is a walk in the park between the twins and my mum.”

“Anything is a walk in the park between us and Mum,” one of the twins chortled from a few seats away. Half the table erupted into laughter and Ed smirked.

“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. “So what’s the deal with Houses, anyways? I don’t really like that my brother is going to be sleeping somewhere hard for me to get to.” 

“It’s a way to encourage teamwork. If you have a rival House, you do more to beat that House. To beat the other Houses, your own House needs more points. To get more points, you do more good deeds, study more, and earn good grades. It’s just another way to keep students engaged in learning more,” Hermione explained. 

“You can always hang out with your brother in our common room. I don’t know if you want to go to the Slytherin common room, though,” Ron chimed in, frowning. “They’re a right lot, they are.” 

“So you’re telling me I have a reason to be worried?” Ed asked, intense now, golden eyes almost glowing. Ron quickly backpeddled.

“Ah, not like they’ll hurt him. He’s one o’ them now, they won’t do anything. But they won’t like you, y’know, you’re a Gryff now - ”

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione cut in, fond. “Sure there are a couple of bad apples in the bunch - ”

“ - Malfoy - “

“ - But I’m sure they won’t be upset that Ed wants to check in on his brother. Slytherins cherish family above all, did you know?” she added on. 

“That’s not in their mantra, it’s more ‘we’re evil, cha cha cha, we’re evil, cha cha cha’ - “

“Really, Ed, it’s just House rivalry. I mean honestly, Ronald, didn’t you hear the Sorting Hat? We should be sticking together, especially now that the Ministry is getting involved - “

“That’s weird,” Harry said firmly, shutting it down. He looked at them intently, trying to convey the seriousness he felt about this. Their focus on silencing him notwithstanding, he was worried that the Ministry's interference at the school was just the beginning of something worse.

“Sounds like the government is corrupt,” Ed said dryly after a long moment of collectively staring at each other in silence. All three of them jerked back, astounded. 

“You can’t just say that,” Hermione urgently whispered. 

“But it’s true,” Ron said in a level tone, bold, reaching out for some treacle tart that appeared. Dessert was ready. “I mean, who ignores first-hand accounts of a war criminal and murderer coming back to start another war? A corrupt government does.”

“That’s codswallop,” an annoyed voice called back a few seats down. Seamus was rolling his eyes at them, taking a long swig of his cider in order to spit out his fear. “People don’t just come back from the dead, Potter!”

The Great Hall went silent. 

“Seamus,” McGonagall called down the table, arm filled with syllabuses and schedules. “Lower your voice. The rest of you, find something else to talk about. That’s enough.”

“Yes, Professor,” they all murmured, and Seamus sneered at them before turning back to his friends. 

Harry scowled at his plate, incensed. 

“It’s not easy being the only one with proof, but that just means it’s only a matter of time before they get proof, too,” Ed said conversationally, burping and patting his stomach as if he hadn't just righted Harry's world with a simple sentence. Hermione grimaced and scooted away a good foot at the boorish behavior. He didn’t look very sorry to the amusement of Ron. 

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, chest lighter. He quirked a smile at Ed, relieved. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

A cough behind Harry had him look over his shoulder. McGonagall stood there, face as stern as always. 

“Your syllabus and schedule, Mr. Potter,” she said primly. 

“Thank you, Professor,” Harry replied, collecting them from her. He studied them while she passed out the rest. 

History of Magic for first and second, which was a bummer, especially since Potions followed it. He could at least relax a bit and get some entertainment out of fourth with Divination, but following that was Defense with the new Professor Umbridge for fifth and sixth. Monday was looking to be right hell, then. 

Tuesday picked up a bit with Charms in second. He was able to sleep in, then, that was good. The third and fourth periods were Transfiguration, fifth was Care of Magical Creatures, and the sixth period was Herbology. 

Wednesday was Transfiguration in third period, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures in the fifth, and Astrology in the evening. Looked like Thursday was a free day. He could fill it with electives or sports. 

Friday was only Defense Against the Dark Arts in the sixth period. He would fill Thursday and Friday with Quidditch, then. Saturday and Sunday were for sneaking out to Hogsmead. It wasn’t the best schedule, but it was better than it could’ve been. 

“The only class we don’t have together is Divination,” Hermione stated. “I’m taking Arthimancy. Ed, do you know when Professor Curtis's Alchemy class is?”

“It’s on Thursday. I’m not sure how to sign up, though,” Ed said, scanning his own schedule. 

“We’ll need to speak to Professor McGonagall. For now, I think it’s time for Ron and I to guide the first years to the dorms.” She stood and motioned for Ron to get up, brows rising encouragingly. 

“Ah, right. See you then, Harry, Ed,” Ron said, pushing his plate forward and rising to join Hermione. They turned after a wave. Harry imagined they felt less guilty leaving him alone since Ed was there. He tried not to be miffed.

“Should we be off to the dorms, then?” Harry asked Ed, desperate to hide in his bed.

“Yeah. Do you mind if we stopped by my brother first?” 

Harry contemplated the Slytherin table. Malfoy wasn’t there, and neither were the first years or sixth years. He didn’t see the harm, so he motioned for Ed to lead the way. 

Alphonse perked up when he saw them coming, grabbing his cane to stand and meet them in the aisle. 

“Brother,” he said brightly. “I think I’ve already made some friends. I see you have, too.”

“Yeah,” Ed chuckled, and Harry waved awkwardly off to the side. “This is Harry Potter. What are your friends’ names?”

Al motioned over to two girls with blond hair and a boy with curly brown locks. “These are Rachel, Bridget, and Peter. Guys, this is my brother, Ed.”

“Nice to meet you,” Ed said, waving, and they all waved back with smiles. Harry was a little astounded that there weren’t any curses being thrown. Slytherins were capable of being nice? Was the world ending already?

“Okay, well I’m gonna head up to the dorms with Harry here. I just wanted to say goodnight, and I’ll check in with you in the morning. I hope you sleep well, don’t be afraid to call on me if you need me.” 

Alphonse fell forward and Ed caught him, hugging him tightly. Harry almost felt like he shouldn’t watch. The gesture was very moving, for some reason, and he felt a little envious of the siblings right then. 

“Even if all you need is a hug,” Ed whispered, and Alphonse’s arms tightened more. 

“Thanks, Brother. I’ll see you tomorrow,” the younger boy said. If his eyes were a little wet neither Ed nor Harry said anything. 

When they left the Great Hall, they went silently. Harry didn’t think it was a bad silence, though. He’d made a friend and one that understood what he was going through. Maybe they hadn’t really talked about their similarities - Ed didn’t know that Harry had lost his parents, too, that his abusive family took him in, and that Hogwarts was home. But he knew enough about Ed to know that they would become fast friends.

His first night wasn’t so bad.

///

“I did it.”

The air stilled, dust hanging in a parody of frozen time. A man stood next to a large array on the hardwood floor of his childhood home’s basement. Books littered the floor around him, pages from stolen tombs crumpled in the corners of the room. The array that stretched across the floor was complicated, with line after line detailing more information than was appropriate for an array that size. It seemed rushed, almost, as if the key had just been found and sketched out in a manic hurry. 

There was a pounding on the door upstairs, a stern voice shouting about arrest and the military. The man ignored it all, mad eyes staring at the circle in pure glee. 

“I actually did it.” 

The door busted open and boots thundered down the wooden stairs. 

“Perfect.”

The first boots crossed the threshold.

The last pair of boots didn’t cross, but no matter; he laughed and slammed his hands on the array. Pure energy coursed through him and then through the array. The soldiers inside it screamed, flesh ripped apart and disappearing into thin air. 

“I DID IT!” 

A single bullet fired, and the man dropped dead, becoming part of his creation. His corpse tore itself to shreds, blood, fat, and skin flying through the vortex in the middle of the room. The array didn’t stop, just continued to spin and spark. 

Riza Hawkeye only had time for a single curse before her navel yanked, and she disappeared. The air stilled again, and dust hung in a parody of frozen time once more.

“Hawkeye,” a voice crackled over her earpiece, already gathering dust on the floorboards. “Hawkeye, come in. Hawkeye.”

“Hawkeye, come in.”

“Hawkeye, we can’t lose you, too.”

“Hawkeye…"