Fullmetal Alchemist © Hiromu Arakawa
Harry Potter © J.K. Rowling

Fields of Gold
"And the shadow of the day
will embrace the world in grey."
- Linkin Park

"You're early," said Edward Elric as he observed a white-haired man appearing out of the fireplace. To be truthful, the blond was surprised and had a good mind to transmute his arm-blade out of habit before he forced himself to stand down. It was just Dumbledore, but honestly, the man shouldn't sneak up on people.

Dumbledore, in turn, looked up to see Edward. His face didn't hide his surprise well. "Ah, what a chance to see you here, my dear boy! It is early, I suppose, but I always go my meetings at least an hour early." His face smoothed into a smile as he patted down his robes. "It's common courtesy."

I should say that to Mustang, Edward mused to himself. On the outside, he said, "I actually wanted to talk to you for a minute, Dumbledore. That alright?"

"Of course, my boy," said Dumbledore. There was a mysterious twinkle in his eye that Edward found himself starting to despise. Twinkles were untrustworthy. "As long as it doesn't make me late, I suppose I'll be just fine. Come — I suppose this isn't something you want others to hear?"

"Good call," Edward agreed. He followed Dumbledore into the hallway, where it lay vacant at the moment. He knew that it would slowly fill will the teenagers, so he had to make it fast. Edward realized that Dumbledore was trying to get him to hurry up in his own subtle way. This hearing was important to him as well...

"I want to go along," he said bluntly to the older man, rendering Dumbledore temporarily speechless. "Me and my superior officer both agree that this is a good chance for me to get a bearing of your government."

"A bit of scrying, is it, Edward?" Dumbledore mused. "Or do you choose to accompany me for another reason?"

Peering at Dumbledore, Edward found that the man already knew. His goddamn twinkling blue eyes were looking at him in a way that told him that he already understood the whole thing, actually sort of expected it. It was the same look Mustang often had when he came back from another goosechase mission, instead learning that he had fixed another tick mark or Mustang's to-do list. He clenched his jaw tightly, but then his lips pulled up in a thin smirk. "You better get Mister Potter if we're going to be there on time."

"Ah, I believe Molly is on that," Dumbledore said sombrely, nodding. "But we have a problem with you, Edward my boy."

"Oh?" He didn't see any problem. Hermione had explained it all to him the day before. What loophole had they both missed?

"Your attire!" Dumbledore raised his wand, smiling in a way that made Edward think he was a lunatic. More than he already did, anyway. "For the Wizengamot—the Wizarding court and jury, as I'm sure you know—to believe that you are my apprentice, you might have to look the part, yes? Appearance is the best deception."

"You want me to look like a crazed old man?" Edward asked incredulously, eyebrow raising despite how rude his comment sounded. Nevertheless, Dumbledore only chuckled in his all-knowing way.

He raised his wand, giving a little flick of the wrist with no warning. "Ambigus."

Edward blinked, stepping back slightly as he felt something heavy and transparent fall over him. With a rush, he realized that this was magic; he looked down to see that over his regular clothing consisting of threadbare trousers and white shirts was a long robe that fell all the way to his calves, leaving room to show the fighter boots that he never seemed to throw out. The sleeves were long and there was an emblazoned crest on the breast pocket, completely gold with one blue stone. It was nice enough, he supposed, even though it made him feel slightly girly.

"Ah, now I think you're ready to play the part, yes?" Dumbledore put his wand in his robes, letting it disappear from sight. He took one glance at the staircase, then toward Edward. "It seems as though Harry will be a little late. Come along, Edward — you and I will see him there. Take my hand."

Edward shot him a dubious look, a bit disbelieving that they could really leave at this second, but took Dumbledore's hand anyway.

There it came again, that horrible feeling of something pulling in just around his navel. Edward resisted the urge to throw up. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of balancing himself, making sure that all of him would be together at the other side.

When his bottom and hands met bare floor he let out a sigh of relief. Reaching at the top of his head to fix his hair and his no doubt mussy appearance, Edward brushed himself off and stood up next to Dumbledore, just a little grouchy at the difference in height.

Then he looked around approvingly, taking notice that they were standing in the middle of a long hallway. The tiles on the floor were made of dark blue marble and the walls around them seemed to shimmer and flicker in different colours. The whole place set him on edge; there was crackling power through the air, and if it was any more imminent Edward suspected that he would be electrocuted by it's energy.

On the left side there were a long row of fireplaces, the insides glowing with bright green flame. He watched with surprise as the fire flared up brightly and someone walked out, not looking at all hassled or burned in any way. Edward looked around him to see for any abnormalities, and found none; it was like he had walked through a door. The blond raised his eyebrows. Mustang would sure like to take a crack at figuring out that fireplace.

"Come along now, Edward m'boy," he heard Dumbledore say. The old man was walking at a leisurely pace, making his way somewhere. People gave him a slight nod of the head as he passed. Edward lengthened his pace to catch up with him. "We have to make sure that we're there before young Harry comes in."

Choosing not to say anything, the blond alchemist raised an eyebrow and followed after, gazing around him in a sort of calculated daze to take everything in. There were specified areas where the magic seemed to be stronger — almost thicker, actually — and some places where it seemed to be thinner, all telltale with the thin wisp of blue electricity that seemed to cut through oxygen like silk. He kept this information to himself. Perhaps Mustang could see it too? He did not see any witches or wizards pay any attention to it as he did. The blue mist swirled around their heads and wands as they said incantations and spells, and yet they didn't notice what he did.

The courtroom was about the same size, he estimated, as the examination room back at Amestris for his State Alchemist exam. It was a circular room with booths on the edges. Directly across from him was what he supposed was the judge's desk, seeing as how it was larger and taller than all the others and was currently inhabited by who Dumbledore informed him was Minister Cornelius Fudge.

Beside him was another woman, a flashing nametag on her maroon robes; Amelia Bones, the woman that would be keeping track of the proceedings. And then there was another person on his side who looked fairly important, and then another, and another, and it went on and on until Edward saw that every seat in the room was filled.

It seemed as though Harry was a bit more important than he had originally thought. And this was definitely more than just a simple case of 'underage magic', as Hermione had put it.

"Dumbledore," greeted the Minister with his lips tightly pressed together. "How wonderful it is to see that you are able to join us." His eyes flickered to Edward, and with poorly disguised curiosity, he asked, "And who might that be behind you? I'll have you know, Albus, that no one other than the people needed for processions is allowed in —"

"A good morning to you as well, Minister," the headmaster cut in jovially, and Edward had to stiffly back a smile at the rude interruption that the old man had covered up in sincerity. "This is my apprentice, Edward. He's asked to come to see the case. And with his insatiable curiosity, who was I to say no?" Dumbledore chuckled.

Edward pushed down the familiar seethe of anger at being called a 'boy', implying that he was small, perhaps even short — it was just Dumbledore, and in Dumbledore's eyes, Edward had to admit that he was still a child compared to the old man's years. But it did not mean that they were not equal on intellectual status...maybe.

Remembering the proper manners that Hermione had installed into him the night before so that he wouldn't look like a complete fool, he grit his teeth and pushed all his emotions down. Bowing, he said swiftly, "Pleasure to meet you, Minister. I hope you don't mind my presence."

At his crisp English and the scary resemblance of his golden eyes, seemingly holding all the knowledge in the world and resembling Dumbledore in that manner, Minister Fudge started to sweat a little and nodded. "No, of course, go on." He, of course, also knew that there was nothing against the rules that said that an apprentice wasn't allowed. "Please, take a seat. I do hope that your charge, Mr. Potter, has been informed of the change in time for his hearing. It wouldn't do for him to be late."

"Even if he was, you'd reschedule, wouldn't you?" Dumbledore asked merrily.

It was then Edward's attention was brought to someone else in the room with them. Though the general chatter had quietened when he and Dumbledore had entered the room, it rose to a point that it became almost like white noise in the background. It was almost impossible to make out one distinct voice from another unless you were listening properly, but Edward knew — the second he heard that voice — that he would be able to pinpoint it anywhere from then on.

It was a sickly sweet tone that was slightly nasal-like, reminding him of an overbearing aunt that also had a cold, except perhaps a bit more...disgusting? The voice belonged to a balloon of a woman, who made Edward's eyes hurt by just looking at her.

Her skin was blotchy and discoloured, thought one could see that she tried to hide it. Her nose was puggish and her eyes were two beady black holes embedded into her head. Tufts of dirty blonde hair fell from her shockingly pink cap, and it seemed that under her traditional courtroom robes she had on even more pink attire. The woman — if you could call her that — brought her arms on her own separate desk right next to the Minister's and folded them, revealing just as chubby fingers and webby nails.

She spoke, saying almost disproportionately to her mouth, "The Minister is a very busy man, Mr. Dumbledore. I'm sure you'd understand that he has a lot of work to do, and not all his time can be wasted on one boy's misgivings." If he focused properly, Edward could detect a tone of dislike coming from the woman. Taken aback, his eyes flickered to her flashing nametag; Dolores Umbridge. Senior Undersecretary. Whatever that was, it sounded important, judging from her self-praising expression and her spot near the Minister.

"Of course," Dumbledore replied humbly. "How silly of me." He motioned for Edward to follow him, which the blond did. "I suppose this is were we shall be residing for the next hour. Oh, Miss Mathil! What a pleasant surprise to see you here..."

Edward raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore's disinterest in the case. Didn't he care about Harry at all? Wasn't that what drove the man to this hearing? What was the conversation from before, then?

Frowning, he took an empty seat on the bench and clutched his fingers together, hearing the slight creak under the dim. Dumbledore sat down next to him a second later, his face wiped of all pleasantries from earlier. He looked around to see others following the same, their chatter quieting down.

The Minister hit his gavel, silencing the whole courtroom almost immediately.

"If all witches and wizards are present, we'll begin the trial of one Harry James Potter immediately."

Edward gave the room one surreptitious glance, knowing that this was one of the few times he had ever been in a courtroom — he barely understood the basics for Amestrian law, forget Wizarding ones.

Dumbledore seemed to know what he was thinking. "Please watch carefully, Edward," the old man said softly, leaving Edward to wonder what he was going to do. "I understand that you're here on the account of a friend, but please allow me to show you how to handle the Ministry as so."

Edward just looked at him in a way that reminded Dumbledore of an old mentor, like someone who was here but not to participate in any way — just to watch over, observe. He pursed his lips. "He's not my friend."

The trial began.

To say that Hermione was nervous was a huge understatement. She had never been more nervous in her entire life. At first it might seem a little uncounted for; after all, it was just a silly little trial. Harry hadn't been in the wrong. He had done exactly what was to be expected of him, and he succeeded at the same time. It should have been over and done with any other student by now, the whole situation blown over. One promise and an obliviate would cure everything.

But Harry wasn't just any other student.

He was the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who decided to open everyone's eyes to what they refused to see; the return of Lord Voldemort. And Hermione knew that Fudge was one of those people. She also knew that because he couldn't touch Harry, not while Dumbledore was there, he would attack in the only way he knew how. Politics. And as long as Harry was in Fudge's jurisdiction, anything could happen.

Hermione was beginning to beat herself up over this. How could she was Edward to go? Sure, it seemed like a good idea at the time, but looking back on it, she began to regret it. How would he, who just became aware of the Wizarding World a few days ago, win a hard-pressed trial with a biased judge? He knew nothing of the Wizengamot's proceedings, despite what she had taught him. Hermione had been desperate, and that had been enough to satiate her desperation at the moment.

Dumbledore would be there, she knew, and she trusted him to make everything right again. But there was still a part of her that dreaded looking at Harry's hopeless face as his wand was snapped in two in front of him, held back by a simple, life-altering mistake...

Calming herself down, she reached for the light on her side-table, knowing that she would be unable to study for the rest of the evening. She had to focus on the words on the pages, do the habitual studying that she always did before school began, but for some reason her eyes would wander.

Finally, she gave up with a sigh and shoved the book away, pushing back a strand of her hair behind her ear and standing up with a slight stretch. Ever since Harry was ushered out of the house with a tense Lupin claiming that the times had changed and they were late, she wasn't able to relax. All of her felt as tightly drawn as a blind.

Hermione jumped about ten feet in the air when the sound of a loud bang interrupted the stillness in her room. Nerves in a bundle, she dashed down the stairs to see what the ruckus was all about — only to have two twin menaces yelling across the room: "HE GOT OFF! HE GOT OFF!"

The meaning of their words took a moment to sink in, but when they did, Hermione felt all the tension leave her body. She spotted Harry's face, smiling amongst the crowd and rush toward him, throwing her arms around his neck.

"You weren't convicted!" she told him excitedly, pulling back and smiling. But for some reason while she, Ron, and most of the Order were overjoyed, Sirius laid back at the edge of the table, subdued. And Harry — he didn't seem as happy as he could've been.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron plopped down on the wooden chair beside him. "C'mon, smile! You're not getting your wand snapped and you get to spend a whole 'nother year with us."

"Sounds grand," Harry said truthfully, giving his best friend a smile for what it was worth. "But...I guess I'm just a little frustrated about Dumbledore. I was hoping I could talk to him after the hearing, at least thank him, but he disappeared as soon as it ended."

Hermione frowned. That was unusual of Dumbledore. Aimlessly, she remembered how the headmaster wished for her and Ron to not contact Harry over the summer. "What about Edward?"

"I didn't get to talk to him. I saw him though, with Dumbledore. I think he left with him."

"He should be here, then. Dumbledore would've dropped him off." Hermione craned her head to look at the mass of people that were all talking cheerfully with one another, despite the proverbial dark cloud hanging above their heads. "Do you see him?"

"Why do you want to see the bloke so much?" Ron asked, crossing his arms. "I'm sure he's brilliant and all, but I doubt he did anything — "

Harry cut his best friend off before the redhead could go further. He knew that tone of voice; it usually ended up with someone storming off for the night. "He's over there, by Sirius." It was then that he noticed that Sirius wasn't up and about like Harry though he would be. The dark-haired man was sitting quietly by the side with Edward talking to him softly, and Harry felt a pang of — well, something. He couldn't define it.

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Harry. I'll be back in a moment."

Edward had never been particularly fond of trials, never was, never will. And though he didn't like proceedings as simple as a teenager's stay in a school, he had to admit, the amount of bigotry in one courtroom alone made his skin crawl with anticipation. He wanted to shoot some of those bastards down; their claims ridiculous, their reasons absurd. Mustang would cringe. Hell, even Edward was fighting to face-palm at the end.

Thing was, the Minister's cheap way of trying to get Harry into trouble was as see-through as glass. He didn't do a very good job of it either, and Edward thought that perhaps Hermione was giving the Ministry too much credit; they couldn't win a trial against a seven-year-old. Dumbledore handled the whole thing, like he said he would, and Edward sat back to the most boring vindication of his life. But the end was certainly interesting.

It seemed as though most of the Wizengamot didn't seem to be all that stupid. They had voted Harry free, of course. And while everyone was heading out single-file, Dumbledore ushered him to leave the room quickly. They went out into an empty hallway and Dumbledore told him that the woman, Dolores Umbridge, would be working as a professor at Hogwarts — and that Edward should be careful around her.

The golden-blond particularly didn't care. The grotesque woman in pink could be the freaking ruler of the world, and he wouldn't give a damn.

Back at the Order, Edward stood awkwardly to the side as he waited for the festivity to be over. Yes, he understood that Harry's education was important, but Christ — did they have to treat it like someone had given them a miracle?

He stood by a sullen-looking man, intrigued. He wasn't celebrating like the others, but Edward could have sworn that this man was somehow important to Harry. He just couldn't remember...

"I see someone's not happy," he stated dryly, surprising both himself and the man.

The dark-haired male turned around for a second, and then sighed. "It's not like I'm not happy. I'm glad that my godson's able to go back to school — he loves it there. But, I suppose..." His godfather, Edward thought, resisting the urge to say 'duh'. Of course.

"Be happy anyway," the blond said. "If he sees you acting depressed, don't you think that he'll start crying buckets after you?"

"Harry doesn't cry buckets," Sirius said in defiance, and surprisingly, the corner of Edward's lips twitched up. But before their conversation could continue, there was the sound of someone clearing their voice. Hermione stood behind Edward, giving him a tentative smile.

"Edward," she started, "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something...and hello, Sirius," she greeted at the end. "Harry's been looking for you."

"I'll be sure to talk to him later then," Sirius replied sullenly, the spark from before dying just as quickly as it came. Edward gave the man an exasperated look and then followed motioned for Hermione to continue, prodding her to move to a more private spot where they wouldn't be heard.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione calmed herself. "How was the trial."

"Just fine," the blond replied. "Dumbledore took care of everything. Though I have to say...your government is really fucked up." Hermione jolted a little, shocked by the vulgar language, but Edward just shrugged. "I didn't see the purpose of me being there. I was sort of... a liability. Personally, I believe you were a bit paranoid."

"I wasn't being paranoid," Hermione said, a crinkle forming between her brows, "Did Dumbledore seem a bit off?"

"He's always off, isn't he?" Edward grumbled. "No, he was fine. He would one hell of a lawyer."

Hermione's face flitted in a smile just for a second, but it disappeared. "So nothing happened? Nothing odd at all? No one out specifically to get Harry or whatever?" Hermione twisted a piece of her hair between her fingers. "Harry said that Dumbledore was in a rush to get out, almost desperate."

"He said that he had something to attend to," Edward relayed Dumbledore's conversation with him earlier. "He did tell me that you would have a new teacher at your school, though."

Hermione seemed to perk up at the news. "A new teacher? Who?"

"Some Dory woman," Edward waved off. "I don't know. I forgot. She was horrendous, though."

"She's most likely the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor then," Hermione muttered to herself. "What did you say her name was, Dory?"

"Something like it. The last name started with an Um..."

"Um?" Hermione blinked. "Are you unsure or..."

"No, Um. As in, u-m." Edward reassured gruffly. Suddenly, he seemed to realize something. "Wait a minute. You...you knew that I wouldn't need to step in, didn't you?"

Hermione flushed pink. "I sort of figured," she admitted.

Edward remained stonily silent, but in his head, he was mentally cursing himself to being bested by a teenager. He really needed to stop being so easily lured by information. "Thank you anyway, Edward." Hermione said, brown eyes wide. "Even if you didn't mean it, you've helped me a lot. If you've got any questions, you can always ask me."

Edward didn't grace her with an answer.

Alright. So I know a lot of you are mad at me...why? Because I've updated this after who knows how long x . x. Life got in the way and all...this probably won't be updated as much, as I haven't fully returned from my hiatus. Plus, I can't seem to find my notes on this story, including all the plot/details/notes that I'm written down, so I'm going to have to write them all over again (if I even remember.)

Also, I've forgotten a good portion of the fifth book (read: all) so I'm going to have to reread that (despite how boring it is) and plan it all and...just...it takes time. But thank you all who've been following the story since Murder and Suicide and all those other characters that I can't bear to remember.

.:.

to be continued.
7.16.12