Edward was going to kill somebody when he got back home. He was going to maim him first then maybe break every bone in his body then turn his brain into fruit juice.

He was going to kill Roy for assigning him to this stupid mission. The fuhrer needed a bodyguard to protect some random kid and of course, Mustang just had to make his life miserable. It was something like a twenty-four seven stakeout and Alphonse could not even be there to ease his suffering.

Sitting there in front of thousands of students who had their eyes riveted on him, Edward felt ridiculous. Someone had put a hat that smelled like old cheese onto his head and made him sit on a stool. If they wanted to test his resilience against smelly cheese, it certainly was working.

"Ooh, this one is easy."

Edward almost fell off from his perch on the stool. He grabbed the sides of the chair and took a deep breath. The voice sounded close to his ear. Edward swung his head around to glare at the person who startled him but there was no one. Was that hat talking?

"Smart, brave, ambitious," the voice continued without missing a beat.

Someone bound a soul into the hat! Edward snarled mentally but the hat was speaking again.

"Slytherin!"

Instantly, the smell of old cheese was removed from his head and Edward blinked as the table of students in green and silver robes leapt to their feet and cheered wildly.

Unsmilingly, Edward jumped off from the chair and joined them at their table. He did not like this place. Even though he had done extensive research on the topic of magic with the books Mustang gave him, he still could not believe anything he saw.

It had been ridiculous; walls that you could walk through on train stations, flying broomsticks, pictures that moved. It defied alchemic laws. These people believed that they could wave away their problems with just a stick. No. It couldn't be this simple. Magic, Edward winced internally as he took a seat in the table, was like cheating. If there was something so simple as magic, what did all those years of research on the philosopher's stone mean anymore?

"New kid!" A guy with platinum blonde hair sitting across Edward smirked at him.

"Elric," Edward corrected. He did not like this place and he did not like this guy.

"Yea, yea, name's Malfoy. Heard from my dad that you're a third year like us. But aren't you a little too young?"

Edward's face reddened.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE CALLING SO SHORT HE AGES BACKWARDS! I GIVE YOU SHORT YOU WHIZ WHIZ MAGIC KID!"

Malfoy recoiled a little but he narrowed his eyes after a moment and turned his back pointedly away.

Edward slammed his head mentally into the table. This was stupid. He knew the fuhrer told him to get along with the kid. After all, he was the kid's bodyguard no matter how much he did not like it.

The principal- an old geezer was saying something that Edward was tuning out to. Then, he waved an arm and the plates instantly piled up with food.

Edward gave a startled squeak. The food just appeared! What had happened? Where was the equivalent exchange in that? Malfoy whispered something to the two grotesquely obese kids sitting beside him and at an unheard command, the three of them turned their heads in perfect unison to sneer at Edward.

"Never seen magic before? What are you? Some muggle?" Malfoy challenged. Edward remembered reading in some book that a muggle was a person without magic.

"Yea, so what?" Edward lifted his chin in defiance to the stunned gasps of the people in the Slytherin table. Malfoy's eyes narrowed coldly.

"How did you even qualify to start from third grade? And a muggle too! Go back to where you come from!"

Definitely did not like this guy.

Edward sighed. Back at home, people looked up to him with reverence for being the youngest state alchemist in history. Now, he was like dirt in someone's shoe. His assignment was meant to be in secret. Well done, Ed. You made an enemy out of your client even before the lessons began.

Stupid missions.

Edward was about to dig into his meal when he felt a cold chill creep up his arm. He was not aware that he had dropped his fork until he heard it clatter distantly. The food before him blurred and his head whirled.

Somewhere, a boy shrieked.

It took Edward a few moments to identify the voice. It was his. There was a circle. A transmutation circle. Red lights. Blood. There were inscriptions. Of course he knew the inscriptions. He designed the circle. There was a bony dark lump in the centre of the circle. Of course he knew about the monster. He created it. It was his mother.

Somewhere, a boy shrieked. This time, he knew who was screaming.