Chapter Text
Edward Elric hated to be called into the office of Roy Mustang. It was either to check up on his progress or to assign him some stupid mission. It wasn’t for his yearly evaluation at least. No matter the reason, Ed simply did not want to deal with his superior at the best of times let alone first thing in the morning.
Waking up to a soldier at his hotel door telling him to report to Colonel Mustang was one of the worst alarms he had ever experienced.
The building was large and intimidating, cowing those new to the military or civilians. Once upon a time it had intimidated the Elric brothers too. He entered the office, Alphonse right behind him, and flopped into one of the empty chairs at the double desks with absolutely zero reticence. No one else was present so Ed was going to take full advantage. He groaned and let his head roll back.
Alphonse remained standing. “Good morning, Colonel Mustang,” he said.
Roy raised an eyebrow. “Good morning, Alphonse. Fullmetal, why can’t you just acknowledge me and stand at attention?”
Ed let his head roll to the side and fixed the man behind the desk with a glare. “Yeah, yeah. What did you drag me out of bed for?” he asked bluntly.
Roy closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he locked with golden eyes. “I have a mission for you,” he stated, sliding a slim folder across his desk.
The young State Alchemist groaned again and got up, dragging himself over to the desk and snatching up the file. He flicked it open and began to read what was inside. His brow furrowed the further he read, eyes scanning back and forth, then his nose scrunched up and he slammed the open folder on the desk.
“Are you kidding me? You’re messing with me. You can’t be serious!” Ed said loudly, half shouting.
The colonel took another deep breath. “As much fun as messing with you can be, this is a real and serious mission.”
Al stepped closer. “What is it, Brother? What’s wrong?”
“This bastard wants to send me to some country I’ve never heard of for what could be a year-long mission that’s basically babysitting!”
“Huh?”
“It is not a babysitting mission!” Roy snapped. “You will be researching and guarding over there. This client, if you want to call them that, only found us from mentions of the Philosopher’s Stone,” he added in a quiet hiss.
Ed’s teeth clicked as his jaw shut. Golden eyes widened a fraction, and a tinny, echoing gasp came from Alphonse.
“What do you mean?” Alphonse asked as he walked over and tried to read the file partly over his brother’s shoulder. This task was made easier when Ed picked the folder back up.
“The man admitted to being in possession of a Philosopher’s Stone until very recently,” Mustang said quietly.
“WHAT?!” cried two young male voices.
“He also said it was destroyed.”
Edward grit his teeth and his hands shook slightly as he tried not to crush the folder. It crinkled lightly in his grip regardless. “You think this is a good lead,” he said. “So, is this mission some sort of sham cover?”
The colonel shook his head. “No, the mission is real. The lead is just a bonus,” he said, tone firm.
“...no shit?”
“Language, Brother!” Al scolded.
“Pack everything you have for an extended mission, Fullmetal. Come back here in two hours to meet your client, he’s taking you back with him,” Mustang ordered.
The blond scoffed, then paused. “What about Al?”
Alphonse twitched. “What about me? I’m coming with you. Aren’t I?” he asked, voice pitched higher than usual and tone completely uncertain. The silence dragged on and both boys stared at the colonel.
“I’m not going anywhere without my little brother!” Edward growled. The folder shook in his grasp, and his gaze bore into the dark eyes of his superior.
Roy Mustang knew that look well. Edward Elric was full of fire and spit. A more vulgar man would say the boy was full of piss and vinegar. Either way, it was correct. Ed was determined, he was making a stand, and he would not budge one tiny millimetre. It was a good thing that he’d never intended to split the brothers up.
“I’m not sure if you have any luggage of your own, Alphonse, but do make sure Ed doesn’t make either of you late,” Mustang stated with casual sarcasm.
Ed paused and Alphonse saluted. “Yes, sir!” Al happily said. “Brother, let’s go.”
“Uh, right,” Ed said, his brain catching up.
Roy drummed his fingers on the desk. “Fullmetal, make sure you read the entire mission brief.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’m serious, runt. Read it.”
“Who are you calling so tiny a mouse would make a valiant steed?!”
Alphonse, well used to this routine by now, grabbed Ed under his armpits and picked him up, bodily hauling him out of the office. No matter how many times this happened, the various military personnel hanging around always stopped and stared until Ed calmed down or they left the whole building.
Back at the hotel, it barely took them any time at all to pack their belongings into one suitcase. Ed plonked himself onto the couch, the folder in his hands, and began to read. He didn’t notice Al slip out of the room, too engrossed by what the brief contained.
An old man that recently had a Philosopher’s Stone, a villain…back from the dead?! What the hell? The majority of the mission would be guarding some kid named Harry Potter in his boarding school, which was apparently some massive old castle. Okay, the castle part was kind of awesome. Ed was to be enrolled if he proved capable of handling the school curriculum, or to gain a special title and status to stay at the school if not.
Ed and Al had never finished school in Resembool because they went to Dublith to learn alchemy from Teacher instead. Still, neither of them were stupid by any means, and Ed was sure he could easily keep up with the curriculum. But did he want to be a student? A babysitting mission was bad enough; he didn’t need school classes and work piled on top of everything. Maybe he should pretend to be less academically intelligent than he was. But he didn’t want people to think he was some sort of idiot…
He growled, scratching his head with a gloved hand.
The guy – client? – was apparently the headmaster of the school. Well, that explained how easy it was to get Ed in there.
…what if he was like Teacher? They wouldn’t let someone like that be in charge of so many kids, right? If he was in charge of a whole castle, maybe he was more like some snobby aristocrat. He would have to wait and meet the guy.
Would Al end up enrolling too?
Ed looked up, blinked, and scanned the room. One giant, mobile suit of armour was conspicuously missing. “Al?”
The door opened and Al stepped through.
“Where did you go?” asked Ed.
Al rubbed the back of his helmet awkwardly. “Well, I thought I should call Winry and let her know we’d be gone for a while.”
The older boy winced. “Whoops. Yeah, good call.” If Winry found out that the Elrics were gone, and all without a single word to her, she would track them down and go to town with her wrench.
“We should head back to Colonel Mustang’s office. It’s almost time to go,” Al said, checking the clock on the wall.
“Ugh, fine.” Ed got off the couch and grabbed his suitcase. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice lacking any enthusiasm whatsoever.
It was a good thing they left a little early. Ed dragged his feet slightly most of the way, and they reached the office with only a minute to spare. Alphonse knocked.
“Enter,” called the colonel.
The brothers did as bid. The office was empty of military personnel just as before, not counting Colonel Mustang, though standing in front of the desk was a strangely dressed man.
He was wearing robes of all things, like a fancy dressing gown, coloured a lurid yellow, and patterned with silver crescent moons and stars. He wore half-moon glasses, a ridiculous, pointy hat that matched his robes, and long silver hair and beard, lengthy enough to tuck into his belt. Bright blue eyes twinkled at him over the lenses.
“Right on time. Well done, Alphonse,” said Mustang.
Ed grit his teeth and scowled darkly at his superior. Bastard!
“Fullmetal, Alphonse, this is Albus Dumbledore.”
“I was under the impression that I would be bringing one specialist back with me,” Albus said. “May I ask who the two of you might be?”
Roy quickly hid a smirk. “This is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist and your specialist, along with his younger brother, Alphonse.”
Ed waited for the customary confusion and misidentification and was not let down as the old man’s gaze roved over him to land on the suit of armour that housed Al’s soul. The gaze moved back to him after a few seconds, their eyes meeting, and Ed felt vulnerable, as if the old coot could see something behind golden eyes.
“You must be skilled indeed to be so highly recommended at your age, Edward,” Dumbledore said with a smile.
That brought him up short. This stranger hadn’t gotten it wrong? But everyone got it wrong! “Uh, yeah,” he managed to say, still thrown for a loop.
“It’s nice to meet you Mr Dumbledore,” Al said politely. “I go where my brother goes and can also aid you with the mission.”
Ed smirked internally. That was Al-speak for, “I’m coming along whether you like it or not, but I’ll cover it with a polite front.” Al could be just as mean and rude as Ed, he simply had a longer fuse and hid it better.
“That won’t be a problem, will it?” Mustang asked casually.
Dumbledore hummed and drew something out of his sleeve. It was a polished stick of wood. It was less than a foot long and seemed useless as a weapon or a cane. Ed honestly couldn’t think of a practical use for such a fancy twig. It had something of a handle carved into it and it was held out to him handle first.
“Indulge an old man and give this a wave for me, will you?”
The young alchemist raised an eyebrow. “You want me to wave a stick? What for?” he asked, sarcasm colouring his tone.
“Why, to see if you can use magic, of course,” Dumbledore cheerfully replied.
“Magic?” Ed parroted blankly.
Mustang sighed. “Didn’t you read the brief like I told you to?” he asked, exasperated.
“Yeah, I read it!” Ed snapped back. “This guy is the headmaster of a school.”
Albus Dumbledore smiled. “Yes, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I need to check if you can use magic to see if you can be placed as a student for your cover.”
His mind was whirling. “That’s the curriculum to check I’m compatible with?!”
“Fullmetal, take the stick and wave it,” the colonel ordered.
“But–”
“Do it! That is an order!”
The teenager growled and snatched the stick with bad grace. Feeling supremely stupid, Ed waved the stick. Nothing happened. Dumbledore held his hand out again and Ed eagerly relinquished the bit of wood.
“That is a shame,” the old man said. “Plan B it is then.”
Not that Edward expected anything to happen. Magic? How stupid. What was the old man expecting? Flowers to appear? A rabbit to pop out of a hat? A card trick? Okay, Ed actually did know a few simple card tricks, but that wasn’t magic, it was merely sleight of hand. And plan B? Oh, right. If he wasn’t a student, he would be granted a special title and role.
“Alphonse, is it? Would you care to try? You will have to shed some of that armour though,” Dumbledore offered, turning to Al.
Al waved his hands across his front. “Oh, no, thank you, I’m fine,” he said hastily.
Dumbledore nodded. “Very well. The plan can be adjusted for one more. Are you two ready to leave?”
The suitcase was picked up in a gloved hand. “Yeah, as ready as we’ll ever be. So, how are we getting to your school?” Ed asked.
“We are taking a portkey,” came the answer.
It answered nothing. What the hell was a portkey? The old man put away the stick and pulled out…a handkerchief?
“But first, Edward, Alphonse, please come here and read this. Commit what is written to memory.” A piece of paper was passed to them. Upon it, in spidery, loopy handwriting, was written, The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He took it back when they both verified that they memorised the note, seemingly relieved at a lack of questions. “Now, if you would place a finger each on this handkerchief, we can be on our way,” Dumbledore instructed.
The brothers were both baffled by this, but Alphonse went ahead, forcing Ed to follow. Fingers reached out and Dumbledore smiled, clearly pleased. Several moments passed in silence.
“Farewell, Colonel Mustang. We will be in touch,” the old man said calmly.
Ed caught a glimpse of Roy’s face, and his confusion and surprise, before the world disappeared in a sickening whirl as something hooked behind his navel and yanked. Wind was rushing by, whipping his hair and coat around wildly, and he squinted his eyes open. Colours blurred by, and his body felt as if it were hurtling forward at high speed, his finger glued to the small bit of cloth. Nausea began to form and then his feet slammed into something solid. One automail foot and one flesh foot were caught off balance and Ed fell harshly to his knees with a clank and a thud, his suitcase handle gripped tightly in one fist. The finger on the handkerchief fell away suddenly. A much louder clank drowned out everything else.
“Ugh…”
“Are the two of you alright? Portkey travel can be an unpleasant experience for first timers. I should have warned you beforehand. Please forgive me.”
The voice of Albus Dumbledore.
“Ah! Brother! Are you okay?”
Large hands flailed near his bowed head until they landed gently on his shoulders. Ed looked up at the helmet that served as Alphonse’s face with a grimace he swiftly hid. “Yeah, I’m fine. What about you?”
“I’m okay. That was the weirdest way to travel though. I prefer trains,” Al said with a slightly forced chuckle.
“Same,” he said. There really was no better way to travel than to go by train. Ed would be happy to never take another portkey in his life. What the hell had even happened? How had they actually travelled? He stood up and dusted off his knees before looking around.
The colonel’s office was gone. They were in some sort of drawing room or something. It was dark, dingy, and the place appeared to be covered in an inch of dust, lit only by a couple of old-fashioned gas lamps in sconces along the walls. Was this part of the school? They needed to hire a janitor or three. In the low light, the outline of a door appeared, lit from the other side, catching his attention.
They were locked in – this was a trap – they wanted to know how Al was bonded to the armour – this was a crazy ploy involving the Homonculi –
Dark thoughts raced through his mind, whispering grimly or shouting harshly, prodding his paranoia and poking his adrenaline to begin stirring.
“Where are we?” Alphonse asked, pulling Ed from his thoughts.
“Headmaster, you’re back right on time,” came a woman’s voice, muffled by the door.
The door handle jiggled and light flooded the room as it opened, revealing a short, rather plump middle-aged woman with red hair. Her eyes took in the room, the old man, widened at Al, then seemed to sadden as she saw Edward. She let go of the door and stood there.
“Albus, who are these people? I thought you would be bringing one person back, not two. One of which is clearly a child!” she said. Her tone was motherly and bordering on scolding.
Ed scowled and Al merely rubbed the back of his neck guard.
“Ah, Molly. Allow me to introduce our specialist, Edward Elric, and his younger brother, Alphonse.”
The woman, Molly, had a pinched expression. Something about the brothers clearly displeased her but Ed couldn’t care less about her feelings and opinions on their presence. He was there to do a job, and Al was by his side to help, as always.
“Edward and Alphonse, is it? I’m Molly Weasley. Are either of you hungry? It’s not quite time for dinner, but I can make you a little something,” she said, drawing up to her full height and adjusting a shawl that covered her shoulders. It looked knitted or crocheted and possibly handmade.
Alphonse bowed ever so slightly. “Oh, no, thank you. It wasn’t even near lunch when we left,” he said.
Molly was obviously taken aback by the young voice, and it took her a few moments to rally. “Oh… Shall I show you to your room so that you can put your belongings away?” she asked instead.
The suitcase was not exactly heavy, especially since he was holding it with his automail arm, but it would be nice to stop lugging it around. “Yeah, thanks,” he replied.
She nodded and gestured for them to follow. “Keep your voices down on the stairs, dears. We don’t want anything waking up,” she said cryptically.
“I will be waiting for you in the kitchen. There will be a meeting before dinner to discuss details. I shall see you shortly,” Dumbledore stated, calmly striding by and out of the room.
Molly also walked out, the boys on her heels, and turned the opposite direction than Dumbledore in the hallway. It was brighter outside the room, and a good sight cleaner, though the décor was not what Ed expected. Some of it suited his taste wonderfully – Gothic flourishes that most would gaze at in horror or turn their noses up at – but some baffled and even grossed him out. Al gasped and Ed couldn’t blame him. Portraits of stuffy nobles were moving, like something right out of a horror story, and shrunken, decapitated heads of little human-like creatures with big, droopy ears were proudly displayed up the length of the stairs like a hunter’s trophies.
He was about to ask what they were when Molly’s warning came to the forefront of his mind. Keep your voices down on the stairs, don’t wake anything up. What things? Whatever these trophy creatures were?
Edward gulped and tried to keep his gaze straight ahead. The second floor had several visible doors from the landing and Ed wondered where they led. Perhaps they all contained bedrooms. Voices came from nearby and a door opened. A teenager with red hair, almost the exact same shade as Molly, walked out, narrowly avoiding the woman. He was tall and gangly, with a face full of freckles, easily an entire foot taller than the State Alchemist. Two more red-headed teens, taller and older than the first, followed him, mocking him in turns.
How many kids did this lady have?
“Boys! Behave yourselves! We have guests!” Molly barked out.
Ed leaned over and waited for Al to do the same. “She’d fit right into the military,” he remarked. Al quietly laughed and agreed.
“Guests?” repeated the gangly teen. All three gingers spun around and saw their guests.
“Bloody hell!”
Ed wasn’t sure which one said it. The youngest one definitely looked the most surprised.
“I thought it was Harry…” the youngest muttered.
Harry? He must mean Harry Potter, the kid Ed was supposed to babysit. Er, well, guard. Wait, did that mean the guy he had to guard wasn’t even here?
“With any luck, Harry will be here soon,” Molly said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us. Keep yourselves busy and quiet,” she ordered.
Golden eyes, and those of a bright red light, scanned the woman for any concealed weapons, especially guns. The search came up empty. To Ed, she looked more like a plain, old housewife than Izumi Curtis ever did. Why were all the women he knew so damn scary in ways?
Pinako had taught Winry, while Winry was fierce and deadly with a wrench. Paninya and Lan Fan had given him a run for his money. Lust was in a category all of her own. Teacher, General Olivier Armstrong, and Riza Hawkeye were downright terrifying on several different levels. At least Hawkeye’s ire was almost never directed at the brothers.
They were led to one of the doors and Molly opened it. The room was on the smaller side, with a bed, side dresser, and a half empty crammed in. A worn rug decorated most of the floor. This room, at least, was clean. A bit dingy still, but it definitely lacked the caking of dust. Small mercies.
Molly sighed. “Oh, dear, we’ll have to get another bed in here. I would offer you separate rooms, but much of this place has yet to be cleaned. It’s slow going I’m sad to say, and most of us staying here are sharing rooms. You just leave it to me. Drop your things off and I’ll show you to the kitchen,” she said, tone brisk.
Edward dutifully set his suitcase on the single bed and turned to her. She started walking again, away from the room, across the landing, down the stairs, partly down the hallway, and into the kitchen. It was a large, cavernous room with walls of rough stone. Pots, pans, and other things hung from the walls and ceiling. A long table ran down the length of the room, with multiple chairs crammed around it, too many for the table. Gas lamps were on the walls, but the majority of light came from a huge fireplace, roaring at the end of the room.
Albus Dumbledore was seated near the fire, along with several other people. Goblets and papers littered the table before them.
“Albus, I’ve brought our guests,” announced Molly.
Everyone at the table looked up. One was an older woman with greying hair and a stern countenance. Two were men in their late thirties or older forties with black hair – one looked somewhat thin and malnourished, while the other had sallow skin and a large, hooked nose. The last one was a grizzled man who appeared to be around sixty. He was mangled, scarred, and maimed, with a false eye of electric blue that spun disconcertingly in the socket.
The headmaster smiled. “Edward, Alphonse, there you are. Allow me to introduce you to Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody, Severus Snape, and Sirius Black. Please, come and have a seat,” he said, gesturing to nearby empty seats after pointing to who was who.
Edward sat next to Black and Alphonse took the seat next to Snape. He saw Molly close the door and wave a stick at it, mumbling something, then she started pulling stuff down from the ceiling and got to work propping for mealtime.
Almost dinner time. It had only been a couple of hours since he scarfed down breakfast. The time change could be rough. Al would be able to stay on top of things whenever Ed faltered though. He glimpsed at the papers although he couldn’t really make anything out, then he lost the chance as Moody quickly gathered them up. He couldn’t fault the man for it – he’d do the same thing in the grizzled man’s shoes.
“Let us start this meeting,” said Dumbledore. “Edward is incapable of magic, so we will have to go with Plan B. Alphonse can be explained as a guard for the school. With his armour, I doubt many will question his presence. Now, Alphonse, do you have any combat skills? I specifically requested someone with such skills and experience, and Mr Mustang assured me that his chosen was indeed very capable, so I am assuming Ed possesses those skills.”
Ed smirked. “Yeah, I can fight. But when it comes to martial art skill, I can admit that Alphonse is just as good, if not better,” he stated, his tone somewhat bragging.
“I can be just as useful to you as my brother,” Al said confidently. The adults at the table started at the young voice. It was annoying Ed, and he could tell Alphonse was getting exasperated.
Dumbledore simply beamed and clapped his hands together once. “Excellent! Edward, what exactly are your skills? I requested the services of someone combat trained, stealthy, able to keep up with teenagers, and hopefully able to befriend those teenagers. Mr Mustang wasted no time in putting your name forward and assuring me you were a perfect fit for every criteria.”
“I don’t know about befriending, that’s not a thing you can really judge, but Colonel Mustang is right about the rest of it,” Ed answered easily enough. He wasn’t bragging, and he also wasn’t sure how to take his superior’s endorsement.
“Colonel?” McGonagall parroted, latching on to that word. “Albus, have you been dealing with a foreign military? Do we have child soldiers sitting with us?!” she asked. Everything about her voice, her expression, and her body language screamed uncomfortable and scandalised.
Dumbledore wasn’t ruffled in the slightest. “I only dealt with one man, that being Roy Mustang. Yes, he is in the military. I assure you I did not ask for a soldier, simply someone that could fulfil the job.”
“Are you two in the military?” asked Black bluntly.
Edward turned to the side to face the man right next to him. “I am, Alphonse isn’t. Does it matter?”
“What’s your rank?” Moody barked. He was scowling with his normal eye, but the other was also focused on him.
The teen wanted to sigh but he refrained. Barely. He stared right back at Moody’s mismatched eyes. “Major,” he stated flatly. “It’s the rank automatically granted to a State Alchemist, nothing special about it.” He had to refrain from rolling his eyes at the reactions his answer caused, and he waited for the furore to die down.
He was doing a lot of refraining. Colonel Bastard could choke on that – he was always saying Ed was hot-tempered and reckless and couldn’t restrain himself.
“State Alchemist? What’s that?”
“You brought them here without a thorough background check?”
“Shut up, Snivellus! As if you have room to judge!”
“You fund your military with alchemy created gold, I bet. What other use would they have for a child like you?”
McGonagall. Snape. Black. Moody.
Wow, rude much? Squabbling like scared and angry kids, and they called him the child. At least the military was organised. Corrupt, but organised. Whoever these people were, they seemed highly disorganised. Although, with a leader like Dumbledore, Ed wasn’t exactly surprised. Weird old man.
He turned to the woman. “It’s an alchemist that passes a test to become state certified. We get the rank of major, research funds, and access to the biggest library in the country.” He turned to Moody. “Alchemists have a few extra rules. One of them is to never transmute gold. It’s illegal and would mess up the economy. And I’ll have you know that I’ve been on multiple missions because I have the skills, regardless of age. Jeez, I’m the one that’s basically been hired here, so get off my back and let me do the damn job! If you don’t want us here, we’ll leave, easy as that.”
“Brother…”
Alphonse sounded upset. But was it Ed’s fault or that of the adults?
“Al?”
“Thank you for answering our questions,” Dumbledore said calmly. “Did Mustang explain what you’re here for?”
Edward’s attention swung from his brother to the headmaster. “I read the mission brief,” he answered shortly.
Nodding, the old man placed his hands upon the table and interlocked his fingers. “If all goes well, Harry Potter will be arriving here at some time tomorrow. Your job will be much easier if you can become his friend, along with befriending the children already here. They are prone to danger and are not ones to let a mystery pass them by. If you do not gain their confidence then they will likely do their utmost to sneak around you, so I do hope you’re up for the challenge. And you as well, Alphonse.”
“Don’t worry, we have experience with these sorts of things,” Al assured. Ed merely smirked.
“I admit I have one more question,” said Dumbledore. “Mustang called you Fullmetal. What an odd name. Is it a nickname?”
The others repeated the name with varying levels of confusion, frustration, and suspicion.
Ed finally let loose that sigh. “All State Alchemists receive a title when they pass the exam. Mine is the Fullmetal Alchemist. Again, nothing special whatsoever.”
The dour man with greasy hair sneered. “And what, pray tell, does ‘Fullmetal’ mean?”
Oh, no. No, no, no. He wasn’t giving them that. He wasn’t going to reveal his automail unless he had no other choice.
“The guy that gave me the title has a weird sense of humour,” was all he said. He barely heard Alphonse snort across the table.
“You’re hiding something,” accused Moody. With one swift move, a stick appeared in his hand, pointed unerringly between Ed’s eyes.
Neither brother knew what, exactly, those sticks could do, but Ed had the distinct feeling of staring down the barrel of a loaded gun.
“When Ed took his exam, he created a metal spear and pretended to attack one of the proctors. That person is the one that gives the titles, so I’m sure you can see the irony,” Al said.
His brother could be so slick when he wanted. It wasn’t even a lie.
“The guy laughed it off, too, thought it was hilarious,” Ed added.
The stick was lowered, so he guessed Moody believed them. Who wouldn’t? It was the truth after all.
“Sheesh, do you give all your guests the third degree as a welcome?” he asked no one in particular. It was telling that Alphonse didn’t even try to scold him.
“Merlin, kid, I think you and I are going to get along just fine,” Black said. His dark eyes were glimmering, and a grin that bordered on manic was aimed squarely at Ed as he clapped a hand on the boy’s left shoulder.
“...okay?” Ed said blankly. He was making friends, how about that. It wasn’t one of the teenagers in the building but oh well. He would take the victory.
Clanging of pots and pans, the snick of a knife against a cutting board, the clinks and thuds of jars, cans, cutlery, and a squeaky tap and running water was a background soundtrack, louder and more varied than the pops and crackles of the fire. Things became quiet at points, then got noisier than usual as if to make up for it. Molly was obviously listening and, if he’d read her correctly, would let her opinions be known if she wasn’t busy getting dinner ready. Maybe she’d snap and join the conversation soon anyway.
“Edward, you will be introduced at Hogwarts as–”
Just before the food was ready, the meeting came to an end, and everyone but Black left. The atmosphere lightened considerably. Ed sniffed the air appreciatively. Molly had kept quietly to herself. Well, she rattled and crashed about even if she said nothing, so he wasn’t quite sure if that counted.
“I’ll go and let the children know dinner is ready,” Molly said somewhat tersely.
The doorway was blocked by the three redheads and a girl with bushy brown hair. It seemed as if she didn’t have to go anywhere, the kids had come down of their own accord. Molly saw them and drew herself up, waving them in before turning back to the food. She produced her own stick and waved it around. Plates, bowls, and cutlery rose into the air, floating across the space to land gracefully on the table, right before the Elrics, Black, and the others as they claimed seats.
Ed looked around his meal and saw Al doing the same. There were no strings, no visible reason for them to have floated. Magic? No, it had to be some trick! A bowl of soup…stew? was before him, a silver spoon resting in it gently against the rim, and a plate of bread slices rested between him and Alphonse. He picked up the spoon and swirled the contents of the bowl idly for a few seconds before bringing the spoon to his lips.
Oh, hey, it was good.
“Don’t be shy, Alphonse. Eat as much as you like,” the woman said warmly.
Crap!
“No, th-that’s okay! I’m not hungry yet. Can I save this for later?” Al said, voice a higher pitch than usual.
He was given a motherly smile. “Of course, dear.”
Ed breathed a quiet sigh of relief. They couldn’t keep up a pretence forever, but at least they had some time to come up with something that would avert suspicion and preserve their secrets. He made a ‘gimmie’ motion and Alphonse happily slid his bowl across the table to Ed’s hungry grasp.
“Waste not, want not,” Ed said. Al laughed and hummed his agreement.
Molly looked a little shocked but shook her head with a rueful grin and left them to it. Boys will be boys, she was probably thinking. He was studiously ignoring the curious, suspicious, and amazed stares from the teenagers. Both bowls were polished off in short order and Ed grabbed some bread to mop up the tiny puddles that were left. The soaked bread was devoured in minutes.
“Blimey Fred, I thought Ronniekins was bad,” said one twin.
“Same, George. I am both spooked and impressed,” said the other.
“Agreed,” said the first.
“Hey!” protested the gangly ginger.
The woman sniffed. “It’s nice to see someone with a healthy appetite,” she said, turning her gaze to Edward. “You’ll make sure your brother eats something later, won’t you?”
The blond nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“So, I’m Fred,” one of the twins said.
“I’m George,” the other stated.
“This is our dear younger brother Ronniekins,” they both chanted.
Ronniekins reacted badly to this and tried to take a good swing at whichever one was closest.
“Ronald!” Molly barked out.
Alphonse tilted his helmet to one side. “So, Fred, George, and…Ronald?” he hesitantly inquired.
“Ron,” the boy corrected brusquely.
The girl sighed. “I’m sorry about them. Hello, my name is Hermione. You’re Alphonse, right?”
The suit of armour nodded. “Hello Hermione. That’s right, but you can call me Al,” he said. He pointed across the table. “That’s Edward, my older brother.”
“Ed,” he all but grunted.
“Now that the boring introductions are out of the way –”
“– care to tell us why you two are here? There’s no way you can be members –”
“– you’re under-age, just like us. So, do tell!”
Damn, that was annoying. He got that twins could have a special bond and all, but they could talk like regular people. And members. Members of what? The school body? The teachers?
“None of your business,” Ed said with a snort.
“Aw, don’t be like that!”
“You can trust us!”
“None of your business,” he repeated. These two were persistent, but no one could out-stubborn Edward. Except Alphonse. It was an Elric thing.
“Brother!” Al reprimanded.
Ed simply raised an eyebrow. “Well, it isn’t,” he insisted.
The suit of armour sighed. “I know, but you can try to be more polite.” Ed said nothing and Al could only shake his head.
The pair excused themselves and retreated to their room. Ed opened the door and paused. Another bed was squeezed into the small room, limiting the available floor space to only a few feet. He blinked dumbly at the new addition but forced his feet to move. Molly did say something about getting another bed. It seems one was rustled up from somewhere and wrangled in there. He sat on his bed, avoiding the suitcase, and waved for Al to sit on the other.
He flopped backwards with a groan, long and low, the bed squeaking horrifically under him. The mattress and frame under Alphonse squeaked and creaked even worse. This was the first time they had any moment to themselves.
“What the hell, Al? What the actual hell. I can’t believe we’re here, wherever here is, for what…months?” Ed complained.
“You were assigned this as a mission, Brother. And I know this place and the people are different, but we can make the best of things, like we always do,” said Al. His young voice was steady and optimistic, a calm island in the middle of a fast-flowing river.
Ed stretched his arms and his back. “We have things to do, leads to follow, we shouldn’t be wasting so much time here…”
Neither noticed the fleshy ears that wriggled under the door.
“But Brother, this could be a lead. Don’t you remember what he said?” Alphonse said, watching Ed intently.
“Yeah, I remember. But a year at school? I might be under orders, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” grouchy the State Alchemist.
Alphonse gave a solemn nod. “We can do it, Brother.”
“Ugh, I hate shitty missions.”
“You haven’t even started this one yet, how can you say it’s bad?”
The older brother snorted. “Guess I officially start when that Harry kid gets here. Argh!”
“Please try and play nice, Brother,” implored Alphonse.
Rusty, unhappy springs loudly protested as Ed sat up and gave a few tentative bounces. “How old are these beds? I’ve slept in cells and dungeons that were sturdier.”
Alphonse’s bed made the same protesting noises as the armour shifted. “Yeah, I’m worried about breaking mine…” he said, tone morose.
Ed got up and stretched his legs, mumbling vague curses and platitudes. His footsteps prompted the disembodied ears to disappear back under the door.