Motive
Al.
So I’ve just arrived here in Britain, in the place we’re meant to stay at. The trip was alright, to say the least. Though I will tell you that wizarding forms of travel are very… quick. But not fun.
Breakfast was uncomfortable. Everyone kept on asking me questions. I couldn’t understand half of what they were saying - I bet all of those words were from wizard language and not in the English dictionary. Then there were the questions like ‘how are you’, ‘how old are you’, ‘do you know these wizard terms I’ll test you’, ‘what are the Muggle things like in Amestris.’
Speaking of that strange new word, I learned its meaning today. ‘Muggle.’ Don’t bother searching it through the Amestrian-English dictionary. It’s not there, it’s some weird wizard term. It means, ‘a term used by magical people to mean a person without magical powers.’
But there was one question that stayed in Ed’s mind.
How would he be able to bring up the details of the mission properly?
Granted, Al was the Fullmetal Alchemist’s brother, so the former was entitled to be informed of the mission (or, at least Ed thought he was). However, this magical babysitting adventure was apparently supposed to be a ‘classified mission.’
And if Amestris was this ‘semi-magical’ country that the common British society didn’t know existed, then how would he be able to explain to the mailman that East City was actually a city in a country that actually existed but didn’t appear on the maps? How would he be able to explain the whole schematics of the mission in a simple but brief enough way to not reveal too much? The protect-a-famous-wizard-boy mission disguised under a messed-up-diplomacy delegation?
I met these three kids last night. There’s the one glasses boy from the briefing we saw. His name is Harry Potter. He’s got these two friends that chase after him. I don’t think he likes me. I don’t like him either.
Say hi to Winry for me- Ed stopped. All that had seemed too sudden, to talk about Harry Potter then abruptly conclude the letter. But he really didn’t have anything to talk about, he mused. He crossed a line through the words he had just written and decided to write a little more: Apparently, according to Colonel Bastard, it’s not just a political mission. Something to do with Harry Potter. And some other wizards. And protecting him during his school year. Yeah, I know that I shouldn’t be complaining about this, but I didn’t agree with a babysitting mission! We were only informed on it the night we arrived. I don’t think Potter likes this situation either. Or me. I mentioned that already.
I’ll keep you updated. Write back as soon as you can. Say hi to Winry for me when you see her.
Your brother,
Ed
He placed back the cap on the fountain pen, folded the letter and sealed it into an envelope he had packed in his case. Ed wondered where the post office would be; from what Ed remembered from yesterday, Grimmauld Place was a suburban area, and each house had a letterbox, so there was bound to be a post office somewhere.
Then he clicked his tongue in annoyance upon remembering Amestris being called a ‘semi-magical country’. Whatever the hell that had meant, Ed mused, even if he had found a post office and managed to hand it in for postage, the letter would never even step foot outside of British borders.
Then how do I mail it? How did the wizards manage to write a letter to Bradley? He closed the door of his bedroom behind him and slowly descended the staircase into the halls of the first floor of the house. Plenty of wizards, from both the previous night and wizards he had never seen before until now, were gathered, some staying for a few minutes then seemingly vanishing into thin air. He looked around for familiar faces he could approach; the strange-eye man Moody who had escorted him into the house was nowhere to be seen, Mrs Weasley, the woman who had criticised Ed’s status as a member of the military, seemed too focused on household chores; he turned his head and watched the bespectacled boy, Harry Potter, his friends and a few others with bottles and gloves, all with displeased looks on their faces.
Ed approached them slowly. The group were occupied with an activity that involved spraying liquid from a bottle onto tiny creatures that reminded Ed of very ugly fairies. The red-head twins were the first to notice him, and then the whole group turned towards him, halting their cleaning work, which made Ed feel slightly uncomfortable.
There was silence, then a girl approached him. She had the same red hair as three of the boys in the group. She placed her bottle down.
“Hi,” she said shyly.
Ed said nothing.
“I’m Ginny,” she said, holding her left hand out for a shake. Ed simply stared at it, then gingerly took it, thanking God she hadn’t been holding out her right. Ed looked at her. “You already know my name.”
“I suppose,” she shrugged. “Roy, wasn’t it?”
I’m Colonel Bastard now? “No, name it is Edward.”
The girl, Ginny, hesitated, but then smiled at him. “How old are you? You look like Ron’s age. He’s my older brother.” She gestured behind him. “That’s Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred and George.”
None of them said hello. The Hermione girl gave him a small smile. The twin boys looked at Ed with a curious expression on their faces. Harry Potter looked stony-faced.
Feeling that staying quiet would still be impolite, and that in the month leading up to this mission he remembered Mustang and his brother had continuously asked him to keep his temper under control and to actually talk to other people, he replied, after what seemed like hours, “Yes. I am… fifteen years of age. Fifteen.”
Then he remembered why he was downstairs, so he changed the subject and asked, “Do you… know... way to... post office?”
Ginny gave him a confused look, and Ed, thinking he had said it incorrectly, said the word ‘post office’ in Amestrian, then pulled out the envelope containing his letter to Al from his pocket. “Send… post message. Letter. Letter send.”
“Post office. Where Muggles send their letters to be sent to their recipients.” Ed turned, and saw a bushy-haired girl walking towards them. She nodded at him. “I’m Hermione Granger. And you’re Edward Elric, the alchemist from yesterday.”
Ed showed his letter, and Hermione nodded. “I’ll take you to the owls. I’m sure Sirius would allow you to borrow one.”
Owls? Was Ed sure he had heard that right?
“I’ll go with you both,” said Ginny quickly, garnering protests of indignation from some members of the group.
“Hey, what about cleaning?” One of the twins asked.
“Stop trying to skive from your cleaning duties!”
“Cut it out, we’ll only be gone for a short while,” Hermione said. She turned to Ed, “This way.”
Ed followed Hermione past several halls and corridors, Ginny following behind, and suddenly, the whole house was enveloped in a high-pitched, demonic-like shriek, and Ed placed his hands over his ears.
“FILTH! HALF-BREEDS! MUTANTS! MUDBLOODS! BEGONE FROM THIS PUREBLOOD PLACE!”
Al would tell Ed that the latter had such a foul mouth, but Ed thought that his swearing was nothing compared to much of what the female voice was screaming out now.
Ginny explained quickly, “That’s a portrait of Sirius’ good old mum. She tends to be… inactive most of the time… someone must have accidentally woken her up again.”
Portrait… as in a painting of someone? A painting that can scream? Ed curled his lip in annoyance, but his irritation soon dissolved into nothing when he noticed that Hermione was opening the door to a certain room.
Ed gaped.
So he hadn’t been wrong with interpreting Hermione’s English. They did use those owls to send mail. Owls of different sizes, shapes and colours in large cages, filling the room with hoots and the flapping of wings.
There was one figure in the room, other than the owls; a middle-aged man with unkempt, long, black hair and scruffy robes, with a tired expression on his face. He looked up upon seeing the entrance of Ed and the two girls; he smiled and made a wave.
“Hi, Sirius,” Ginny spoke up first. “What’re you doing here?”
“Looking for Kreacher.” Ed did not know who this Kreacher was, but judging from Sirius’ expression and tone of voice, Kreacher did not sound like a pleasant individual. “I can’t find that little shit anywhere, he’s probably snogging my mother’s belongings in God knows where, I bet-”
Hermione coughed into her fist. “Can we borrow an owl for Edward? He wants to send something to Amestris.”
“Sure.” Sirius pointed to a certain tawny owl in its cage on the windowsill, calmly eating birdseed from a small container. Ed ambled towards the owl, trying to gain its attention.
He tapped the owl’s wing gently with his left gloved hand, then the owl abruptly stopped eating. It looked up and saw Ed, then suddenly, brought down its sharp beak and pecked his index finger. He yelped in shock, swore loudly in Amestrian and stared at his hand.
Crimson red was seeping through the white cloth of the glove.
Sirius immediately rushed to his aid. He took out his stick (wand, Ed reminded himself, not stick but wand), muttered a few words and pointed it to the small bleeding cut on Ed’s hand. Immediately, the bleeding stopped; it was if the cut had been already cleaned. It must have been, Ed thought, still staring at his finger. He did something with his magic. “Th-thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Just don’t do that again,” Sirius smirked. “Animals don’t like it when you interrupt them in the middle of their lunch. I think the owl is ready for you though.”
The owl was now staring at Ed, or rather, he thought, it was staring at his finger. He was sure that the owl was laughing at him internally. It held out one leg, and Ed, giving the owl a steely glare, cautiously approached the bird again.
“Do it go to Amestris?” Ed asked the wizards behind him. He turned to Sirius. “Owl… bird… fly to Amestris with letter?”
“Yes, it’s an incredibly foolproof way to send messages,” Sirius replied. “Owls can fly to a lot of places, semi-magical states included. It helps if the letter has some sort of scent from Amestris. It might take a long time to send the letter, however,” Sirius added, as Ed was about to turn his focus on the owl, “which is expected because of the distance between Amestris and Britain.”
The distance between Amestris and Britain? Is the distance that far? Maybe not, but considering an owl is flying all the way from here to Al in Amestris… Ed hadn’t entirely grasped the distance of the two countries up until that point. Granted, he and Mustang had used magical means to transport themselves from Creta to Grimmauld Place. He didn’t know how far it would be.
“So, who’s the letter for?” Hermione asked.
Her question was ignored as Ed tied the envelope to the owl’s leg, firmly securing it to make sure it would not fall throughout the duration of the owl’s journey. Then, finally, he replied, “Someone in Amestris.”
“For who? Your military, or your family, or your friends, or…?”
“Family yes,” Ed nodded, confident the letter was tied securely to the owl’s leg, and opened the window. He then turned to the owl, saying in English, “Go to Amestris,” then repeated the command in Amestrian. He wasn’t sure whether the owl had understood either of the languages, but the owl made one final hoot then took off.
Ed was about to take his leave, when he passed Sirius, who said, “You should join them in cleaning. It’ll be fun,” he smirked.
“Only because you’re not the one who gets forced by Mum to get rid of the stupid Doxys,” Ginny shot back.
“It’s not that bad,” Hermione sighed.
“Doxys?” Ed looked at them, confused. “What is Doxys?”
Ginny groaned. “Doxys are these tiny little fairy pests,” she explained, wrinkling her nose in disgust, and Ed remembered the group composed of her, Hermione and the boys spraying liquid at the fairy-looking creatures, which dropped dead to the floor upon contact with the liquid. “If you’re not quick to spray them with the Doxycide, they bite you on the fingers. They bit me a few times, but if you’re quick you can get to them first.”
Feeling slightly stuck in the situation, and not wanting to seem impolite or disrespectful again for declining in a household chore in a lodging that was providing him accommodation, he quietly agreed, and followed Hermione and Ginny back to the group of Potter and the red-headed Weasley boys.
Ginny took him to Mrs Weasley, saying he had offered to join in the cleaning (which, of course, Ed knew was a lie, but did not point that out). He still had a slight sense of annoyance towards the woman, because of her attitude towards him being young and being part of the military. However, he had to admit that Mrs Weasley was a kind woman, and today she spoke a lot more nicely and stopped her current activity to summon the cleaning supplies to him and explain to him briefly how to kill the Doxys, clear corners and the ceiling of cobwebs.
Ed had to agree with Hermione. Despite him rather wanting to stay in the bedroom and read up on alchemy or learn more English, cleaning wasn’t as horrible as the Weasley children made it seem. In fact, it satisfied him to spray the liquid (called Doxycide) at the Doxys, watching them make small squeals and fall lifeless to the floor. The whole house seemed to be infested with those tiny pests, but it bothered him little.
He heard the Weasley boys, Ron, Fred and George, complain curse as they narrowly escaped being bitten on the hands by the Doxys, which annoyed him slightly. It wasn’t so hard to spray the Doxys and kill them; why were they grousing over something so small? Ed remembered how he would complain in the office of Colonel Roy Mustang upon the large military missions he had been issued and could not refuse; he had complained for the ten-month mission to the British magical world he did not expect nor sign up for. Life was worse than cleaning out the house of pests.
When they had finished about two or three hours later, Mrs Weasley and Sirius had come in and commended the group on their work. The group began to split; Harry, Ron and Hermione had gone off together, Fred and George had decided to leave for their room as well. Ginny had asked Ed if he wanted to join her, but Ed politely declined; he had research to attend to.
He approached Sirius and asked if he had a bookroom, or a library of some sorts.
“Yeah, I do, but why would you want to go there?” Sirius asked. “There aren’t any school textbooks in there for Hogwarts, and I don’t think there are any alchemy texts there either, just stuff about advanced magic and spells and stuff that Hogwarts students shouldn’t bother learning. I think there may be Dark Magic books there, but I cleared them all out. I think.”
Ed remembered when he had first been summoned to the East City headquarters to learn about the mission, where Warrant Officer Falman and Mustang had, somewhat, told him that alchemy and magic were related, through their explanations to Edward for the existence of magic. It was worth seeing if there were any similarities between the two that could help Ed in his search for the Philosopher’s Stone, or anything that could bring his brother’s body back.
He couldn’t just leave Alphonse in Amestris to conduct the research alone.
Ed shrugged at Sirius, and tried his best to convey in English words that alchemy and magic might have some similarities and that he wanted to study them. “Study for Amestris. Amestris government. I have write down study, send back to Amestris. For mission.”
It took a few sentences, then Sirius sighed, and told him the location of the bookroom, pointing in the direction of the room with his wand. “There. It’s unlocked. If you see anything that could be Dark-Magic-related or anything that looks suspicious there, tell me.”
Ed thanked Sirius then headed towards the bookroom.
/-/-/-/-/
The door to a room Hermione had never seen the inside before was slightly ajar, but as she went to close it there was a large thud that came from inside the room.
She opened the door, entered the room and closed the door behind her. It was a fairly small room but it was still full of bookshelves with books she had never seen, probably with knowledge she yearned to get her hands on. She was still looking around the room, looking at the shelves, when she noticed Edward Elric a minute later, books open and closed all scattered around him. There was a book in his hand that he had picked out, but Hermione noticed that his grip on the book was loosening. “Edward-” she began.
Hermione was too late, and the book fell on Edward’s head with a loud sound. Edward yelled something in a foreign tongue that Hermione suspected was nothing good, rubbing his head. “Are you alright, Edward?”
He grunted, still rubbing his head with one hand and using the other to pick up the fallen book. He shook his head. “No, am fine. Thank you.”
Hermione walked towards him, and picked up an open book she was about to step on. It had a black leather bound cover, gold lettering spelling out the title: Magical Theory of the Body, Mind and Soul. The pages that were open depicted a diagram of the human body, labelled with several notes. Edward watched her, and while his expression was blank, Hermione guessed that he did not want her here.
“This is…”
“Got allowed,” he said gruffly.
“Well…” Hermione handed Magical Theory of the Body, Mind and Soul back to Edward. “Be careful. Sirius’ family has plenty of objects that could be dark or cursed. Books included.”
Edward sat down on the floor, cross-legged, opening the book he had just gotten back to the diagram of the human body. “He said he took out all bad dark books. No curse. I no think it does.”
Hermione sat down next to him, a question lingering in her head. She decided to voice her thoughts out loud and ask Edward. “Is this part of alchemy research?”
He widened her eyes at her and nodded. “For… for Amestris. Write down, study. For Amestris government.”
“Could you tell me a little about alchemy? Please?” Hermione asked suddenly, and Edward looked at her as if she had suddenly jumped out of somewhere to frighten him. He said nothing, but Hermione continued, “It’s just curiosity! All your books…” Hermione gestured to the titles of the books surrounding Edward. “They talk about the body and soul and the spirit. That has to be alchemy-related, somehow.”
“‘Just curiosity’?” Ed stared at Hermione, and bored his golden eyes into hers, unconvinced.
Hermione sighed. “I am curious! I’ve been interested in it since you came,” she admitted. “I mean, judging by you and Mr Mustang, alchemy isn’t what we wizards think it is.” At Edward’s blank expression slowly morphing into a curious, thoughtful one, she continued, “I mean, there’s a huge chance that your alchemy isn’t a magic that turns everything into gold with the Philosopher's Stone. So… could you teach - I mean, tell me a little about the basic laws and principles.”
If alchemy was a power used in an institution like the military, Hermione mused, then it must be a powerful power indeed. It wouldn’t hurt to learn more about it.
She had a burning desire to learn alchemy and use it a little, but she controlled herself. Asking Edward to teach her alchemy was all too sudden.
“Not magic, science.” Edward nodded at his own words, and said, “Alchemy all about understanding matter and earth energy. It is…” Hermione nodded at Edward, in both understanding of the topic and encouragement, as he had been struggling to find the word. “De...decon...Destruction? Not destruction. Break down something, rebuild that to something else with the same material. Power comes from the earth. Earth energy. Circle helps. Understand?”
Hermione nodded. Edward continued, “Alchemy has one big rule.” He muttered something in Amestrian, then looked behind him, taking out a piece of parchment and reading through it. He then placed the parchment down and continued, “Equivalent Exchange. That is a big rule. If you… get… make something, something with equal… equal value is lost. Like an equal swap.”
“Like an eye for an eye,” Hermione said.
“If this what you say in English, then yes,” Edward agreed. “For example, make new thing from other thing made of water. Cannot make wool from sheep. Brings us to… he looked behind him, most likely to the piece of parchment. “Law of Conservation of Mass. Not big rule but still a rule. For example, you have something one kilogram. One kilogram of things needed to make it.”
She stored this information in her head, and continued nodding. “So the Law of Conservation of Mass is a sub-law?”
“Sub-law… a rule under big rule, yes. There is another law. Law of Natural… I not know word for English. Think it is another word for ‘god’.”
“There’s a few synonyms that come to mind, but I’m not sure if the direct synonyms work with the name. There are related words, though. Like fate, destiny, luck, providence-”
“Providence! That is word.” From the pocket of his jacket, he brought out a fountain pen and opened it, taking the parchment from before, and attempting to write it down. He struggled to find the correct spelling, so Hermione lended her assistance. “Law of Natural… Providence. If something is made out of one material. If something is made out of certain material, alchemy can change the thing to another but it has same amount of same material.”
“So…” Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully. “So if there was something mostly made out of water, alchemy can only turn it into something else with the attributes of water.”
Edward nodded, and was about to return to his books, when Hermione asked another question. “Isn’t there any way to bypass the law, or overturn it? Or is there something that disregards alchemy’s laws completely?”
Hermione watched as Edward hesitated. He stared down at the floor, his golden bangs making it impossible for Hermione to see the expression concealed underneath. Then Edward looked up and sighed, replying, “One way.”
She nodded, waiting for Edward to continue, which he did, saying, “There is thing everyone knows about alchemy. Alchemy turn to gold. And… Philosopher’s Stone.” She widened her eyes at that. “You know what it is, right? Everyone thinks alchemy is all about it. But I think no alchemist from Amestris ever see Philosopher’s Stone before. Only a legend. Legend of a red stone. Red like blood. Can do alchemy without alchemy rules. Without alchemy laws. Some people say you can make it. It can do many things. Legend says it can even bring back dead people.”
Hermione looked at him, her mouth slightly open. That can’t be right. She remembered the Philosopher's Stone from three and a half years ago, from her first year at Hogwarts. A blood-red stone. Looking back, Hermione recalled that while Harry had been the one who had attained the Stone shortly before the Stone’s destruction, there were no alchemical powers attributed to it. And the Stone could be made? Wasn’t there only one in existence? Wasn’t Nicolas Flamel the one who made the Stone?
She hadn’t realised that she had been muttering these thoughts aloud, and in the silence between her and Edward, she was sure the latter had heard her. He froze, eyes widened just like Hermione’s when he began talking about the Philosopher’s Stone.
“How about the Elixir of Life?” she asked Edward suddenly.
“Elixir of… Life?”
“If you keep on drinking the Elixir, you can live beyond your normal lifespan and live forever, isn’t that right? It’s a liquid from the Philosopher’s Stone-”
“No such thing,” Edward said, shaking his head. “What did you mean when you said Harry had Stone? Harry Potter had Philosopher’s Stone?”
Hermione cursed out quietly for voicing her thoughts aloud without her even realising it. She gave in and decided to tell Edward. Maybe he could help answer her questions about the Stone, because she was sure things weren’t adding up. “Back in our first year at Hogwarts. There was a Philosopher’s Stone, and You-Know-Who was trying to steal it to become more powerful because the Stone had the Elixir of Life that could make him immortal. Harry got to the Stone.”
“Philosopher’s Stone exists?” Edward said slowly, as if trying to absorb that information, but Hermione noted the slight hint of excitement in his voice. “It exist? Where is Stone now?”
Hermione hesitated. She sighed, and said, “... It’s gone now.” Edward opened his mouth to reply, but she continued, “When Harry got the Stone, he ended up meeting You-Know-Who and almost got killed by him, and the Stone got destroyed.”
Edward looked down at the ground in silence, then sighed. After what seemed like forever, he asked, “Did Stone have alchemy power?”
“What?”
“Did Harry Potter or anyone else use the Stone for alchemy?”
“I don’t think so,” Hermione replied, and Edward looked more downtrodden. “We all thought before you and Mr Mustang came that alchemy was magic that could turn things to gold and make you immortal. I don’t think anyone even knew you could use it in the way you’re probably thinking.”
Another pause, then Edward sighed again, muttering a few foreign words in Amestrian. “Well, that is all. All I will teach you. No more.”
“Can’t you teach me a little more?” Hermione asked. “About how to do alchemy? Please?”
Edward shook his head firmly, and Hermione received the message that nothing else would convince him. “No. Cannot change my mind. Alchemy takes long time to learn. Is hard. To train spirit for alchemy, must train body too.” She opened her mouth to ask what that meant, but Edward resumed, saying, “I taught you laws of alchemy. Go and read books. I do not feel you are ready to learn alchemy yet. Mustang will say no too. Maybe when I give think, maybe when you ready, maybe I will tell more. But for now-”
Hermione looked behind her as the door suddenly opened, cutting off Edward’s words. Standing at the door was Mr Mustang, who scanned his gaze around the room, from the bookshelves, to Hermione, to the books scattered among the floor, and Edward. In his deep voice he said, “Sirius Black said you were here. I need to speak with Edward.”
Edward frowned, and spoke back to Mustang in a tone of indignation in Amestrian. Mustang shot back to the former in the same language as well, a sly smile on his face. Edward, who had turned slightly red, raised his finger against the older alchemist, muttering foreign words that Hermione thought were probably nothing but colourful, as he picked up two or three books from the floor and placed them into a pile, Magical Theory of the Body, Mind and Soul included. He placed the rest of the books back into the bookshelf and took the books that he had kept for himself then promptly left, following Mustang who had given Hermione one final nod before he left.
She stood, her mind still wandering to thoughts about the Philosopher’s Stone. She still had a lot of questions, but she was sure none of them would be answered today. She exited the room, heart thumping slightly faster than normal.
/-/-/-/-/
“We’re going to have to talk, Fullmetal,” Mustang explained in Amestrian. “About the details of the mission.”
“Now?” Ed narrowed his eyes at the older man. In the same foreign tongue, he responded, as he laid himself down on the four-poster bed, “I’m not interested. Protecting Harry Potter can be for when magic school starts.” He tapped the books he had taken from the Black family’s bookroom beside him. “I’m busy with research.”
“No, not that,” The Flame Colonel glared at him pointedly. “You do remember that this mission is all about strengthening ties in the Amestrian-British political relationship?”
“Oh, that! Nope, never knew,” Ed said in the most sarcastic tone he could muster, smirking afterwards. Annoying Colonel Bastard was a pastime he enjoyed a lot.
“Shut up, shorty, and listen to what I have to say-”
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A MICROSCOPIC BEAN THAT USES ANTS FOR TRANSPORT-”
“From what I heard from Mr Kingsley,” Mustang sat down on a chair in the corner of their bedroom, completely disregarding Ed’s outburst, “Harry Potter is to go on a hearing tomorrow.”
Ed sat up from the bed, staring at the Flame Alchemist in disbelief. “Hearing? Like court trial, or is that some word that means something else in wizard language…?”
Mustang looked at him as if he were an idiot. “A disciplinary hearing.” When Ed opened his mouth to ask why, Mustang cut him off with a wave of his hand and continued, “That’s what I gathered anyway. Something about using magic outside of school.” (So that was why Ed had witnessed none of the kid wizards performing magic of any sort. That disappointed him.) “He’ll be going to the Ministry of Magic headquarters or something to be trialled-”
“I’m not sitting through a court-trial with a bunch of old geezers telling off a magic kid for using magic, speaking in some language I barely know.”
“I already told you before, the mission is not just about Harry Potter but about politics and our countries’ relationships. The thing is, Mr Weasley told me at dinner today that Harry Potter will be accompanying him to the Ministry of Magic for his trial tomorrow. And we’re going to go with them, and meet the Minister for Magic to discuss plans for our stay in Hogwarts in September.”
“Is it necessary?” Ed was asking this as a genuine question.
“The Fuhrer made it clear we are a delegation, Fullmetal. While Mr Dumbledore did request for us to look after Harry Potter during the Hogwarts school year, our main mission is still being a political delegation to improve the relations between Britain and Amestris. So yes, it’s very necessary.”
Ed made a disapproving noise with his mouth. He still was unconvinced that this was a necessary task to complete, and he showed it to Mustang with his expression. Sighing in exasperation, the older alchemist reached over to the small desk on the side of their bedroom and showed the younger a piece of parchment with neat cursive.
“Kingsley Shacklebolt gave this to me today,” Mustang explained, and Ed moved towards him to peer over his arm at the letter in the former’s hand. His eyes traced the first few words of the letter. “It’s from the Minister. According to Shacklebolt, he was ordered by the Minister to see us into Britain. But since he’s part of the Order, he told Dumbledore and Dumbledore decided to pick us up instead.”
“It’s in Amestrian,” Ed noted, bringing the subject back to the letter. Indeed, the whole letter was now “Does the Minister know Amestrian like the Dumbledore guy?”
Mustang shook his head. “Shacklebolt brought out his magic stick and did something called a ‘Translation Charm’ on it. I don’t know when the charm wears off, though, so you should start reading it, Fullmetal.”
He took the letter from Mustang’s hands and he went back to his bed.
To the Amestrian alchemists concerned,
I would like to formally welcome you to Britain, upon my knowledge that you have arrived to our country safely.
I would like to keep this letter brief, and matters short, so I will get straight to the point:
To officially welcome you to our country, and to discuss your roles in the upcoming school year during your time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as part of the Amestrian-British agreement, I cordially invite you to the Ministry of Magic office tomorrow morning. There I will give you further instructions on your mission and hopefully get off to a good start to an improvement to the relations between our two countries, as well as help you get accustomed to the ways of the magical world.
I expect to see you tomorrow.
Yours faithfully,
Cornelius Fudge
Minister for Magic
“How do we even get there?” Ed put on a sour face as his eyes reread the letter. “He didn’t even tell us how to get there! He didn’t even tell us what time we’re meant to be there! Are you sure he’s the Minister?”
“Fullmetal,” Mustang chastised, glaring at him with his black eyes. “This is important, as you can see. So both you and me will have to go to the Ministry tomorrow and talk to this Cornelius Fudge person.”
“It’s an invite,” Ed told the older. “Meaning we don’t have to accept it.”
“He’s the Minister, Fullmetal. When people like him say ‘invite’, they always mean it as an order. He even said ‘I expect you to be there’,” Mustang added, reminding the younger. “As for transportation, I already told you at the beginning. We’re accompanying Mr Weasley to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow. We’re going with them and Potter is coming too because of his hearing.”
Ed groaned and took one of the books he had obtained from the Black family bookroom, and tried to get immersed in the content, despite his mind still wandering off to the events of the next day. Then he suddenly sat up from the bed, which caused Mustang to almost jump. He looked back on the younger, eyebrow raised.
“I remember something from today,” Ed said. “Just before you told me about all this I was with the Hermione girl.”
/-/-/-/-/
Harry had been ascending the stairs, feeling upset how Dumbledore had visited Grimmauld Place without checking on him. The stairs made a low creaking sound as he did, but as soon as the sound had been made, he looked up and saw Fred and George furiously placing index fingers on their lips in a ‘shush’ motion as their sides were pressed against a bedroom door.
Upon seeing Harry’s confused look, George beckoned for him to join them. He crouched down alongside them, about to open his mouth to ask what they were doing, but Fred beat him to it and mouthed: Be quiet. He held up an Extendable Ear, and then the twins turned back towards the door.
“What are you doing?!” Harry hissed, and the twins glared at him, making shushing gestures, then pointed to the Extendable Ear. “Give it a listen,” Fred whispered. “You might want to hear what they’re talking about.”
“Who…” Harry’s voice wavered away as he was handed the Ear. He moved closer to the door and held the Ear up, and was immediately greeted with the annoyed, loud voice of Edward Elric... in what seemed like perfect, fluent English. Harry widened his eyes in surprise upon hearing that.
“-not sitting through a court-trial with a bunch of old geezers telling off a magic kid for using magic, speaking in some language I barely know!”
How… Harry opened his mouth, but the twins quickly shushed him again, just in time for Mustang to say, “...And we’re going to go with them, and meet the Minister for Magic to discuss plans for our stay in Hogwarts in September.”
His eyes widened larger, and he bit his lip which was trembling slightly in anger. The Minister? Harry was about to wonder why the two Amestrians needed an audience with Fudge when he remembered that this was the entire reason for their arrival into Britain in the first place. He returned his focus back to the Extendable Ear and the conversation. Ed seemed to feel like Harry towards this news, and he complained back.
Then, a sigh followed by a pause. Then, Harry heard Mustang’s voice breaks the silence: “Kingsley Shacklebolt gave this to me today. It’s from the Minister. According to Shacklebolt, he was ordered by the Minister to see us into Britain. But since he’s part of the Order, he told Dumbledore and Dumbledore decided to pick us up instead.”
Dumbledore… he remembered the sinking feeling he had felt just a while ago when he found out the old Headmaster had visited Grimmauld Place while Harry was asleep. He’d had enough time to take the two Amestrians, strangers the old man had never met before their first encounter, to Grimmauld, but not enough time (or the decency) to talk to Harry during his brief visit to the house. He moved his focus away from his troubling thoughts and back to the conversation on the other side of the door.
“Fullmetal.” Mustang’s voice boomed through the Extendable Ear. “This is important, as you can see. So both you and me will have to go to the Ministry tomorrow and talk to this Cornelius Fudge person.”
Harry widened his eyes in shock at that statement, looking at Fred and George who had the same perplexed expressions. Fred mouthed to him, Isn’t your hearing tomorrow?
A sinking feeling began taking over Harry again. He had almost forgotten, in the spur of the moment, his disciplinary hearing was taking place the following day.
“It’s an invite,” Elric said. “Meaning we don’t have to accept it.”
“He’s the Minister, Fullmetal. When people like him say ‘invite’, they always mean it as an order. He even said ‘I expect you to be there’. As for transportation, I already told you at the beginning. We’re accompanying Mr Weasley to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow. We’re going with them and Potter is coming too because of his hearing.”
Harry bit his lip in frustration. He knew Elric on the other side of the door was feeling annoyed by the whole situation as well, but for a different reason. Anger slowly boiled up in him as he remembered that the two alchemists were going to meet with a man who Harry was sure hated him and thought of him as an attention-seeking lunatic.
“-I was with the Hermione girl.” George had shaken his shoulder, which also shook Harry out of his thoughts, and he held the Extendable Ear tighter upon the mention of Hermione’s name. He knew that by his sides, Fred and George were also now listening intently, not wanting to miss a single word now that Hermione was mentioned.
“One of Harry Potter’s friends?” Mustang replied.
“Yeah, her. She came up to me, you saw her, and she asked me to teach her a little about alchemy.”
A brief pause. “Did you end up teaching her?”
“No, I said she wasn’t ready to. However, I did teach her some of the basic laws.” Harry heard a chuckle from the other end, from Elric. “I might have sounded like an idiot because of all the English words I didn’t know. But that’s not important. We were talking about alchemy… then the Philosopher’s Stone came into conversation.”
Harry turned to Fred and George in a mix of confusion and mild shock. Fred mouthed to him, Didn’t the Philosopher’s Stone get destroyed? Because of that fiasco with you and You-Know-Who?
He settled his erratic breathing as Elric continued, “It exists. It’s not just a legend. It actually, really exists. And according to Hermione, Harry Potter had the Stone. Around the time when he was in his first year at school.”
Harry cursed silently. How would Hermione easily let slip of something like the Philosopher’s Stone? He made a mental reminder to confront Hermione about this.
“So?” Harry heard Mustang break the pause between the two alchemists. “What will that mean for you? Will you go and-”
“I can’t,” Elric snapped, poorly hiding the frustration in his tone. “Hermione said that Harry Potter met the dark wizard we’re meant to be protecting him from, and the Stone got destroyed.” There was a sigh, and then: “Colonel Bastard, have you heard of the Elixir of Life before?”
“No. Why?”
“Hermione told me the Stone had a liquid called the Elixir of Life before. She said if you kept drinking it you could live longer than your normal lifespan should be. Almost immortal. But it’s not in any of the alchemical texts I’ve read. And the military has plenty of top-secret alchemy resources and research.”
“I haven’t heard of it either,” Mustang replied. “But could the Stone really have an Elixir? That can’t be possible. The legend only states that it can help an alchemist perform alchemy without having to abide with alchemy’s most important laws. I’ve never heard of an Elixir of Life.”
Harry heard a groan through the Extendable Ear. Mustang continued, “Don’t be too angered by the situation, Fullmetal. It might not even be an actual Philosopher’s Stone. After all, this is a world tied to magic, not alchemy.”
“Yes, but I thought-” Then the conversation abruptly switched to a foreign language Harry had only heard in the past two days, when those two alchemists had been conversing privately with one another. Amestrian.
He slowly got to his feet. Fred and George followed him as they retreated to Harry’s bedroom, the door closing behind them. For a few minutes, the three boys sat in silence, a strong sense of perplexity and confusion regarding what they had just heard lurking in the air like a bad smell.
Then, George broke the quietude.
“They must be here looking for the Philosopher’s Stone. There’s no doubt about it.”
Fred agreed. “That Elric guy… he seemed very annoyed when he found out the Stone was destroyed. He even said ‘it’s not in any of the alchemical texts I’ve read.’ It’s clear that he’s looking for the Stone?”
“How did you do that?” Harry broke into the twins’ exchange abruptly. “The alchemists can’t speak fluent English… can they?”
Fred and George exchanged looks, then smirked gleefully at Harry.
Translation Charm, they said it was called. According to the twins, they had learned it by copying their father a year or two back, the spell being around sixth-year level. Fred said the charm could easily translate any language, whether it be the foreign texts of a book or, like what they had just intruded in, a conversation in an alien tongue. “The longer the Charm lasts is how good you are at casting it,” George grinned. “Before when we tried it, the charm only lasted a minute or so but now it works a treat for us.”
Harry sighed. “Okay, a Translation Charm. But the Philosopher’s Stone…” His mind was racing with thoughts as it replayed the conversation. Was that why they had accepted the mission? Did their country’s know about this, or the existence of the Stone itself? He knew that the Philosopher’s Stone played an essential part in alchemy, common knowledge had taught him that, but until now it had never crossed his mind that the alchemists could have sought after it.
However, it seemed that even the alchemists’ knowledge of the Stone was limited. Harry remembered Elric had said that there was barely anything on the Philosopher’s Stone in any of his research, and both Amestrians had expressed no prior knowledge of the Elixir of Life at all. Was that why they had come to Amestris…? Were Fred and George right?
And in the unlikely event there was another Stone in existence and the alchemists acquired it, what did they want with the Stone? What was their purpose?
Alchemists in the military… Would they use it for military purposes? Was that their motive? The thought disgusted him.
“Don’t tell anyone about this,” Harry warned the twins.
“Alright, but don’t think we’re going to drop this subject between the two of us anytime sooner,” Fred promised, then the two of them Apparated out of his room with a large pop.
Harry stood and began to change into his pyjamas. He had more pressing matters to attend to, he mused; the disciplinary hearing was taking place tomorrow where it would be decided whether he was allowed to return to Hogwarts. But the thoughts of Elric and Mustang’s true motives lingered in his mind, and Harry decided that it would be prudent to tell Hermione and Ron once he returned from the Ministry.
Then he remembered. The Ministry. Edward and Mustang would be there. They would be accompanying him and Mr Weasley for the journey to the Ministry. He reminded himself to keep an indifferent composure around them tomorrow, so that his expressions would not give anything away.
But he shook his head. Stop thinking about it. Don't worry about them. You might not even go back to Hogwarts. Think about it when the hearing's over.
But what if you don't go back to Hogwarts? Another voice spoke up in his mind.
"Shut up," Harry growled, to no-one in particular. "I'll think about everything tomorrow."
He laid down on his bed, pulled the blanket over him, and by the time Ron had entered the bedroom, Harry was fast asleep.