YES! I have a good feeling about this!

I don't want a long author's note, so let's get this show on the road!

Oh, wait, the Disclaimer: which is the dumbest thing that ever existed. NO, I am not Hiromu Arakawa or J.K. Rowling. If I was, I would not be writing fanfiction. That would just be ridiculous.

I would also like to note that there are many lines of dialogue and writing taken directly from J.K. Rowling. If you recognize these lines, no, I am not claiming to own them. It's all J.K.'s stuff.

Now. . . hehehe. Let's get on with it!

Harry

Something was going on at Hogwarts this year. That much I knew.

Everyone had been talking about it. Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Mr. Weasley. . . Ludo Bagman, Mr. Crouch. . . even Malfoy knew what was going on! They couldn't just mention "something" and then not tell us! That was just cruel!

Still. . . it wasn't like we could do anything about it.

Ron, Hermione, and I were sitting in our compartment, discussing hidden castles, other magic schools, and pushing Malfoy off of an icy cliff when it happened.

There was a knock on the compartment door. We quieted as the door was pushed open.

"Hello, can I sit here?" the boy- well, more of a man, just a bit on the short side- asked politely. I heard Hermione gasp, but I couldn't figure out why. It was just a guy. He didn't warrant the shortness of breath Hermione was clearly suffering from.

I glanced at Ron, trying to figure out whether or not he'd noticed what was going on with our female friend, but he was staring at the boy in the doorway, brow furrowed. "I haven't seen you around before. . ."

The man chuckled a bit. "Unsurprising, seeing as it's my first year here. I'm Edward Elric."

"Oh. Well, nice to meet you. I'm-"

"Ron Weasley," Edward said, cutting Ron off. He turned to me. "You're Harry Potter," he continued. "And you-" he added, spinning to face Hermione, "are Hermione Granger."

Hermione blushed. "P-Pleasure to meet you, Edward."

"Call me Ed," Edward said, grinning.

I leaned forward. "You say it's your first year here, but you don't look eleven."

Ed froze. Then, inexplicably, a grin crossed his face- an evil, almost demented looking grin. "How old do I look to you?"

Ron put a hand to his chin. "Around our age, I'd say. . . fourteen or so?"

The grin slipped off Ed's face. He looked crushed. As though his disappointment was so great he couldn't remain standing, he fell to his knees, eyes on the floor. "F-F-Fourteen?" he whined dejectedly. "Noooooooooo. . ."

". . ." Ron looked at me in confusion.

"How old are you, then?" I asked curiously.

Ed's head shot up. "I'm eighteen, dammit!"

I felt my eyes widen in shock. I saw similar things happening to both Ron and Hermione.

"B-But then. . . you're a seventh year! Or you aren't even a student!" Hermione cried out in shock.

Ed cocked his head, still on his knees. "Huh? Seventh year? Gramps didn't say anything about that. . ."

"Gramps?" I inquired. "Your grandfather talked to you about this?"

Ed shook his head and stood up. "Not my grandpa, the old guy who runs this whole school. . . thingy. Dumb-bell-dwarf, or something like that."

"You mean Dumbledore!" Hermione exclaimed, looking scandalized at the mispronunciation of Dumbledore's name (but still blushing like a maniac. . . why?).

"Oh, yeah, that was it! Dumbledore!" Ed grinned, pleased with himself.

Ron shot him an incredulous look. "You don't know Dumbledore? How the bloody hell do you not know Dumbledore?!"

Ed shrugged. "Well, I've met him. I know him, obviously. . . I just hadn't heard of him until he asked me to come here."

I raised my eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Ed replied, slouching into the seat across from Ron and next to Hermione. I took the time to study him. He had long, golden hair done in a ponytail. He wasn't tanned or pale, just on a sort of mid ground when it came to skin color. He wore neat slacks, a white button up shirt, and a brown vest under a long, dark brown overcoat. He was carrying a suitcase in his white-gloved hands. He was taller than me, but only by about half a foot. He was. . . odd.

The strangest thing about him, however, was his eyes. They were the same shade of gold as his hair. They were like. . . Professor Lupin's eyes. Werewolf eyes.

Was he a werewolf?

As I pondered this possibility, Ron made a fatal mistake.

"You don't look tall enough to be eighteen," he said, still examining Ed closely.

Ed's face contorted into something frightful. "I'm not short, dammit!"

I chimed in, adding my own two cents. "Um, Ed, for your age, you are kind of short."

Ed exploded.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLIN' A SUPER-SMALL BEANSPROUT MIDGET WHO LOOKS LIKE HE BELONGS IN PRESCHOOL BECAUSE HE'S TOO DAMN SHORT TO BE OLDER THAN THE FREAKISHLY TALL PEOPLE AROUND HIM?!"

I froze. Ron froze.

Only Hermione was able to do anything productive. "No, you aren't short Ed!" she said quickly, smiling. "You're taller than Harry and I! And it doesn't matter that Ron is taller than you, he's taller than a lot of seventh years, even some of the teachers!"

Ed still had his hackles raised, but he settled down a bit. "Okay. . . okay. I'm good now." He scowled in our direction. "But don't call me short, got it?"

Ron and I nodded quickly.

Ed smirked, letting us know that he really was good now. "You're supposed to say, 'sir yes sir!'" He added in an impeccable salute for good measure. "Honestly, what the hell do they teach at this school?"

"Magic," Ron couldn't stop himself from saying.

Ed snorted. "Yeah, I know. What a load of crap."

I blinked. "What?"

"Magic. It's not really mystical arts. It's science influenced by certain materials and special allowances of equivalency." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a odd-looking wand that appeared to be made out of some strange, bright red wood I didn't recognize. "See this wand? The wood wasn't originally red, but that's besides the point. It's got a phoenix feather core. Phoenix feathers are one of the materials I'm talking about. They're amplifiers. So are unicorn hairs, and dragon heartstring, and veela hairs, etc. They allow you to focus and multiply a small amount of power. The wand itself is not the source of power, but rather a conduit that allows you to access your own power reserves. We all have that little bit of power, even so-called 'Muggles'. Wizards are special because you are able to access that power." He placed his wand back into his bag. "As for the equivalency, I don't know why that bastard Truth allowed you to make things float, but he did. He made certain adjustments in the equivalency so that you could do your tricks."

I was lost. Judging by Ron's expression, so was he. Who the hell was Truth?

Hermione, on the other hand, looked surprised and impressed, and maybe even a little confused, but just barely.

"That's really clever, Ed!" she said happily, not really blushing anymore but still slightly pink.

Ed grinned at her. "I do my best, 'Mione."

Hermione blushed again. This time, Ron caught it and scowled at Ed.

I raised an eyebrow. Did Hermione think Ed was. . . handsome? For the first time, I realized that he was. In fact, I hadn't ever really seen anyone who looked as good as him out of magazines. Smooth hair, elegant features, and eyes made of molten gold. . . his only problem was that he was vertically challenged. Other than that, he looked. . . good. Really good.

No wonder Hermione was blushing so hard. No wonder Ron was jealous.

Ed laughed. "You guys are cool people! Mind if I hang out with you while we're at school?"

"Not at all!" Hermione rushed to reply.

Ron scowled. "Fine. Whatever."

I nodded, grinning. Ed seemed nice enough. Besides, with Ed around, there would never be a moment without something going on. I'd known him for all of six, maybe seven minutes and I already knew that.

Besides. . . something about him was bugging me, and I wanted to figure out what it was that he was hiding. His eyes. . . could he really be a werewolf? If not, what could he be hiding? We all loved a good mystery, and so far, that's all Ed was.

Ed leaned back in his seat, looking perfectly relaxed. "So, my good men and woman," he said, smirking at us, "why don't you tell me a bit about your school? Gramps wasn't very clear, and I have many questions."

Hermione looked eager. Ron looked miffed. I just smiled.

"Fire away, Ed," I said.

Ed grinned and did just that.

I honestly didn't think it was possible for someone to have so many questions, especially if they were so much of a pretty boy, but Ed soaked up information like it was the only thing keeping him alive, and there always seemed to be room for more.

"You must have a hollow chamber in your brain!" Ron exclaimed. He had let go of his animosity towards Ed after a while, mostly out of respect and understanding of the man's dislike for insolent pricks and authority figures.

Ed laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised. I've always loved reading, ever since I was a little kid. I used to study from my. . ." He swallowed audibly, his gaze turning dark, as though what he was about to say pained him. "My. . . father. . . My father's old research. Yeah. I read his books with my. . ." Here his eyes lost some of their darkness, gaining a sort of profound, deep pain. "My younger brother."

I exchanged a glance with Ron. What was so hard about speaking of his family?

Hermione didn't seem to notice. "Really?!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Wow! I started reading young as well. I think I was about three or four. What about you?"

Ed smiled lightly, but he still looked strange. "Mom said I was one when I started recognizing words. I was reading my dad's books by the time I was turning three. My brother learned a bit faster than I did, but I was self-taught while he had my help, so I guess that makes sense."

Hermione stared at him in shock. Ron and I stared, too. Was it possible that this man was more of a bookworm than our Hermione?

Ed struggled to grin normally. "I guess this is a good segue into the part where you guys ask me questions. I can tell you have a lot. Well, fire away!" This time Ed really did grin as he repeated my sentiment.

I felt surprised, and I could tell Hermione felt the same way. Surprisingly, it was Ron who took the initiative.

"Okay, first question," he said, narrowing his eyes, and I immediately sensed his distrust for Ed. "Why so eager to share?"

Ed shrugged. "Equivalent Exchange. You guys answered my questions, so I'll answer yours."

Ron looked slightly perplexed, but he shrugged and smiled. "Good enough for me."

Hermione went next. "Why are your eyes golden? Are they contacts or something?" she inquired, then blushed as though it was a sensitive subject.

"Heritage," was Ed's prompt reply. "My younger brother has similar coloring. We got it from. . . our dad." There it was again, that hesitation, that tensing around the shoulders. But this time. . . I almost didn't believe him. Did this mean he wasn't a werewolf? Or was he just hiding it from us for fear of rejection, or for his own purposes that we knew nothing of?

My turn. "Why do you always get that look when you talk about your family?"

Ed froze.

Then, slowly, he turned his eyes on me. I half-expected to see animalistic rage there, but that wasn't it. He looked. . . fractured. Saddened.

Lost.

"My dad left my mom, brother and I when I was two. Mom always thought he'd come back, but he didn't. Even when she was sick, he didn't come back." He was slumped over now, broken. "Mom died when I was six and my brother was five. We then moved in with a childhood friend and her grandmother, who had been an old friend of our dad's." He looked up, seeming impossibly old. "There was an accident a few years later. We were badly injured. Once we healed up, about a year later, we started traveling together. For a long time, my brother and I were all we had left. But now. . ." He glanced back down, letting loose a bitter chuckle. "I haven't seen him in two years. He probably thinks I'm dead."

I couldn't speak. He sounded like his life was worse than mine!

I sighed. "For the record, your life isn't the only one that sucks."

Ed laughed wryly. "Trust me, I know. I've seen enough misfortune to last me a lifetime." He scowled. "Life's a bitch."

I nodded in agreement.

Then, suddenly, Ron asked another question.

"Where's your accent from?" he wondered aloud. "I can't place it."

Ed smiled. It looked weak, but it was something. "That's classified," he said jokingly. Then he asked for another question.

It took me a moment to realize that he hadn't given us a real answer.

I immediately asked, "What was your brother's name?"

Ed gave me a hard look, like, Are you trying to drive me into depression? Then he sighed.

"Alphonse," he replied wearily. "His name was- no, is Alphonse."

I nodded. "And the others?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "Mom was Trisha. The childhood friend was Winry Rockbell. Her grandmother was Pinako Rockbell, Granny Pinako to us. Dad was Van Hohenheim."

I raised an eyebrow. "Hohenheim? Didn't you say your last name was Elric?"

"Yeah, it was Mom's last name. What of it?"

I shrugged. "Nothing." I gazed at him evenly. "You know my name. You've heard the story?"

Ed shrugged. "Enough. You were one when He-Whose-Name-Everyone-Is-Too-Wimpy-To-Say murdered your parents and tried to murder you. You survived, though."

I nodded. "Mom was Lily Potter, formerly Lily Evans. Dad was James Potter."

Ed nodded. "Equivalent Exchange." He turned to Ron. "What about you?"

Ron looked startled at the attention, but he promptly rattled off, "Dad's Arthur Weasley. Mom's Molly Weasley. Brothers from oldest to youngest are Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, then me. Younger sister is Ginny."

Ed whistled. "Big family." Then he turned to Hermione.

Hermione blushed and stammered, "Um, Jacob and Margaret* Granger are my parents. I don't have any siblings."

Ed nodded again. "I see." Then he yawned deeply. "I'll answer some more questions another time, how 'bout it? I'm exhausted," he mumbled, promptly slumping down and closing his eyes. Within seconds, he was snoring.

Ron looked incredulous. "Even I can't do that!"

I nodded seriously. "Yeah, he's even better at sleeping than you, Ron."

Ron scowled at me while I cracked a grin.

Hermione sighed as she gazed at the sleeping boy next to her. "He's gorgeous. . ." she murmured.

Ron snapped to attention. "What?" he asked quickly.

Hermione blushed. "Well he is!"

Ron glared at her, then focused on Ed. "I don't see it," he said brusquely.

I coughed a quiet, "Liar," into my hand. Ron turned his burning gaze on me and I shrugged innocently.

Hermione giggled, then turned back to the golden man. "Why didn't he tell us where he's from?"

"Dunno," I replied. "I got the feeling he was hiding it on purpose, though."

Ron leaned forward. "Think he could be a Death Eater?" he hissed under his breath.

Hermione scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, Ronald."

I nodded thoughtfully. "I'm don't know. . . Maybe, but we don't know him well enough to figure it out for sure." I glanced at Ed, then whispered, "Don't his eyes look a bit like Lupin's?"

Ron scooched back into his seat. "You think he's a werewolf?" he muttered in fear.

"He said it was from his father!" Hermione said reproachfully.

"Maybe he was covering it up," Ron suggested.

"Or his father was a werewolf and he was born one," I added. "Don't know if that happens, since I'm not sure if werewolves breed or not. . ."

"I read that they don't," Hermione said, as though that settled the matter. "He doesn't seem ragged enough to be a werewolf in my opinion. Besides, he's very smart, obviously."

"So was Lupin!" Ron replied argumentatively.

As the two of them began their standard back and forth over their newest topic, I gazed at Edward Elric.

What are you hiding, Ed?

I'm not sure when I drifted off to sleep. All I know is that when I awoke, Ed was gone and Ron and Hermione were arguing over whether or not to wake me up.

"He'll want some sweets!" Ron argued.

"But he's tired, Ronald! Let him wake up when he wakes up!" Hermione replied hotly.

"Hey," I said drawing attention to myself.

"Hey mate!" Ron said, forgetting all about his and Hermione's spat. "Want a Chocolate Frog?"

"Sure," I replied. Then I glanced around. "Where did Ed go?"

Ron shrugged. "Dunno. He said he had to go, then he stood up and left." He scowled at Hermione. "'Mione looked pretty sad to see him go. Kept asking if we'd see him in school."

Hermione turned beet red. "Shut up!" she hissed angrily.

"He said we would," Ron added.

"RONALD!" Hermione cried indignantly.

"What?!" Ron asked. "I'm just telling Harry what happened."

"UGH! You're. . . you. . . you're IMPOSSIBLE!" Hermione nearly shouted, storming out of the compartment.

Ron watched her go, then turned to me. "What's got her knickers in a twist?"

I sighed. Sometimes it seemed like Ron would never learn.

A school, huh? Why? Why did I have to come here? What does the old man want from me? I don't trust him. I don't trust any of these wizards. I don't trust this magic.

But. . . if it could help me get home. . . I'd use it.

Protecting the Potter boy for Gramps doesn't seem like that bad a price. He's a nice kid. Bit nosy, I can tell, and he and his friends have a knack for finding trouble from what I've heard, but they're good kids. I'll have my hands full, of course, what with studying and protecting and everything, but I think I might even forge some bonds with some of these ki-

No! No. I can't. I'm going to be leaving. I'm going to find my way home. Help Harry, find a way to get back to my world, and hightail it out of here. Magic. . . it's unfair. It's not right. I don't belong in a place where the Equivalent Exchange is so. . . warped.

I'm coming, Alphonse. I'll find you. Wait for me.

When we entered the Great Hall, we didn't see Ed anywhere. I wasn't sure why I'd even expected to, honestly. He was new. Maybe there'd be some sort of announcement before he was sorted because he was entering seventh year instead of first year.

"Who do you think the new DADA teacher is?" I asked when I found that seat empty.

"Hope they're good, they'll have to be to top Lupin," Ron replied.

"Nobody can top Lupin."

"Too true, they'll have to be super powered."

We laughed. Just then, Hermione rushed up.

"Thank god I found you!" she exclaimed. "Listen, have either of you seen Ed?"

Ron scowled. "We haven't seen your boyfriend, Hermione."

Hermione glared at him, then turned to me.

I shrugged helplessly. "We've been looking, but we have no clue where he could be. Maybe Dumbledore's going to introduce him as a. . . transfer student?"

Hermione pondered this. "It's a possibility. . ." Then she frowned. "I wish he could have told us where he was going."

Roy snorted. "As if. I bet he was going to meet Malfoy or something."

"He's not associating with supporters of You-Know-Who, Ronald."

"How do you know he isn't?!"

"How do you know he is?!"

"He's suspicious!"

"You're just jealous because he's more attractive than you are!"

Ron's ears turned red. "You- I- That's- Of course not!" Ron sputtered.

I sighed. These two. . .

After we sat, Dumbledore stood. Before the Hall could even properly become silent, he called,"I have only two words to say to you. Tuck in."

Cheers echoed through the Hall as everyone dug into the sumptuous feast before them.

"Ah, that's be'er," Ron said, revealing the mashed potato being further crushed within his mouth.

Just then, Nearly-Headless Nick drifted up and engaged Hermione in a conversation about Peeves wanting to come to the feast that somehow got sidetracked as soon as Nick mentioned the fact that Hogwarts had house elves. Hermione ended up spilling pumpkin juice all over the table before pushing her plate away.

"Slave labor," she muttered in response to Ron's insistence that not eating wouldn't make the house elves better off. "That's what made this dinner. Slave labor."

Covering my smile at Hermione's kind, righteously indignant nature, I finished off my plate. Soon enough the desserts appeared. While Ron tried to entice Hermione into eating some, I helped myself to treacle tart and turned to look at the other people in the hall.

There's Ernie Macmillan, he cut his hair, interesting. . . Cho Chang, she looks really pretty, wait what? Well she does. . . Slytherins acting all high and mighty as usual, they're all idiots, I hate them, especially Malfoy. . . Snape looks pretty ticked off, wonder what happened, is he upset about not getting the DADA job again? . . . Someone with golden blonde hair is just outside the doors, probably Ed. . . WAIT ED?!

"I found Ed!" I whispered. "He's outside the Great Hall!"

"What?" Ron asked, his mouth full of pudding.

I was about to stand up and go to Ed when the desserts disappeared and Dumbledore rose. The Hall instantly quieted.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at all of us. "Now that we are all fed and watered," (Hermione made a little "hmph" sound at that) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices."

I listened as Dumbledore as he told us the usual- no magic in the halls, no going into the Forbidden Forest, don't get on Filch's bad side- but I was more focused on Ed. Why was he waiting out there? Why didn't he come inside?

The I caught the tail end of one of Dumbledore's sentences, and all my thoughts of Ed flew out the window.

"-Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"WHAT?!" I cried, but it was lost in the general outraged tumult in the Hall. The Quidditch Tournament not take place?

"Has he finally lost it?!" Ron cried out in anguish.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy- but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely."

I frowned. What could be more enjoyable than Quidditch?

"I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts-"

He never got to finish his sentence, for at that moment there was a great clap of thunder and the doors of the Hall swung open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione gasped.

His face was a mass of scars. Heavy and light, thick and thin, jagged and straight, and everything in between. His nose had a chunk taken out of it, and his mouth was not immediately distinguishable as such since it seemed more like just another gash than something to breathe, eat, drink, and speak with. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye- and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all we could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words I couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and us students.

"May I introduce one of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

There was silence. Many people seemed to be struck dumb by the appearance of "Professor Moody."

"Moody? As in Mad-Eye Moody, the one your dad was talking about?" Hermione whispered to Ron.

"Must be," Ron said, awestruck. "Blimey, he's supposed to be one of the best Aurors there are!"

I vaguely registered this conversation, but I was more interested in Dumbledore's words.

May I introduce one of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers?

One of our new teachers. There's more than one DADA teacher this year.

What's going on?

"Many of you have probably noticed my wording," Dumbledore continued. "Yes, I did say one of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, because this year, we have two." Dumbledore called out into the entrance hall, "You can come in now, my friend."

For a moment, there was no noise. Then, soft footsteps reached my ears. One seemed slightly heavier than the other, which reminded me of Moody's footsteps in an odd way. Then a man entered the Hall, and I heard Ron and Hermione gasp with me.

He had changed from his previous outfit. Now, instead of the neat clothes he had on before, he wore tight leather pants and a black jacket lined with white. Underneath it he wore a black tank top. He was taller than before, probably because of the thick-soled boots he had on. He had on a long, hooded coat, similar to a cloak except for the fact that it was scarlet in color and had a black symbol that I thought I'd seen somewhere before- a crowned cross around which a snake was twined- on it. His long, aureate hair, in a braid instead of a ponytail, glowed in the candlelight, almost as brightly as the floating candles themselves. He had ditched the suitcase, but the gloves were still on, and his eyes were still as brilliantly golden as ever.

It was Ed.

"Please allow me to introduce Professor Edward Elric!" Dumbledore announced, unaware that the worlds of three of his students had just been turned upside down.

So many students, so many people, it's too much, oh Al, if you were here, this would be so much easier. . .

They're looking at me weirdly. Not because I'm. . . diminutive (which I'm NOT), because I don't look old like the other teachers. Because I'm not as scarred as that Moody guy. . . or so they think. They have no idea what scars I'm hiding, and not necessarily physical ones.

I miss you. I miss Mustang's team. I even miss Colonel Bastard himself. I miss Granny, and I miss Winry. Honestly, I miss Winry just as much as I miss you. I would have missed her more, but I saw her so little that I'm used to missing her. We were always together, Al, and not having you here now seems. . . wrong. We should be figuring this weird world out together, but we can't.

Walking up to that Head Table is. . . a challenge. They're all looking. Students, teachers, even. . . ghosts.

That's another unfair thing about this world: ghosts. The dead can leave an imprint of themselves on this reality instead of passing on. Why did Truth give them all these passes?

I spotted Harry and his friends. They looked like someone just slapped them silly. Also like drowned rats, but everyone in the Hall looked like drowned rats, so it was their dumbstruck faces that caught my attention. I almost waved, but I didn't. I let my gaze slide over them. I'll talk to them later. Instead, I focused on all of the other students.

So many people. . .

Al, what did I sign myself up for?

Dumbledore was saying something, but I wasn't listening. I was staring at Ed. He'd seen us, I know he did, but he didn't react. He just glanced at us, golden eyes not even faltering as they swept across our side of the room. No one was making any noise. Everyone just stared at the boy that was going to be a teacher.

He didn't tell us.

He hadn't lied, exactly. He did say that Dumbledore hadn't mentioned being in the seventh year to him. He'd just neglected to mention that he'd be teaching us, and neglecting to mention something was pretty much the same thing as lying. . . right? Did I really have the right to say he lied? Maybe he just didn't want to share. Maybe he didn't even care. He was pretty easygoing. . .

Or he's hiding something. Maybe he's plotting. Maybe he is with Voldemort, like Ron said.

No, that's ridiculous!

Or is it? What do we know about Edward Elric, anyway? Sure, he talked about his family with us, but who's to say he's isn't lying?

It was his eyes. It was the same look I get when I think about my parents, about my family. He can't be that good an actor. Eyes don't lie. Even if someone can hide the emotions in their eyes, they wouldn't be able to disguise them with other emotions. It's just. . . it can't be done.

How do you know? Have you tried?

. . . Yes. I have. It's impossible.

Besides, Dumbledore hired him. Dumbledore knows everything. Ed couldn't have hidden anything from him.

There's a first time for everything. . .

I abandoned my internal conversation with myself just in time to hear Dumbledore saying, "-and he'll be joining some classes to observe how we perform magic as well as teaching classes for the fourth year and up. He and Professor Moody will not be splitting classes. Rather, every student fourth year and up will be alternating between the two teachers. Every student under fourth year will only have classes with Professor Moody."

"Alternating?" Hermione murmured. She seemed to be the least shell-shocked out of the three of us. "Why alternating? Why only fourth year and up? And he'll be taking classes with students? Why couldn't he just get tutoring from the other teachers?"

Ron didn't respond. He was just shaking his head muttering, "It's only a dream. It's only a dream," over and over again.

I jabbed him in the ribs. "Snap out of it, Ron," I whispered, still trying to pay attention to Dumbledore's speech.

"-so I hope you will all join us in giving them both a warm welcome."

There was applause, but it was scattered, jumbled and twisted by muttering. The lack of applause didn't seem to be bothering either of the new teachers. As Ed sat down at the table and the students in the Hall finally got a good look at his face, about half of the student populace (so the girls) sighed dreamily. Even Hermione seemed to be affected by the teacher's candlelit countenance.

Ron finally managed to come out of his trance, just in time to scowl at the enraptured women around us.

"What's so special about him, anyway?" he muttered. "He's blonde, so what? He has cool eyes, big deal. They'll like anyone who's even half-way attractive."

I didn't want to tell Ron that Ed was obviously far more than half-way attractive, but luckily for me, I didn't have to. Because just then, Dumbledore continued his speech.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing, transfixed, at Ed, "we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar. . ."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er - but maybe this is not the time.. . no. . ." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament. . . well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely."

I listened carefully as Dumbledore explained the tournament. Unlike Hermione, I couldn't bring myself to be startled by the death toll line Dumbledore imparted upon us. I was too excited. This seemed like fun!

I wasn't very disappointed when I heard about the age restriction. I'd kind of expected it. Who in their right mind would let underage kids participate in something this dangerous?

Throughout the explanation, I couldn't help but notice Ed's reactions to everything. In his new seat, in between Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector, he had a lovely view of the headmaster. He seemed oddly detached, not really paying attention, not really startled by anything the headmaster threw at us. However, his eyes didn't look glazed. On the contrary, they seemed even brighter than before, like he was concentrating on something. They were fiery.

Fire in those eyes.

I blinked. That hadn't been my voice. Where did that come from?

That boy… I've never seen anyone look so defeated.

That's what you saw? No. There was fire in those eyes.

What were these voices? It certainly wasn't me.

An image came into my head: a boy, small, with golden hair and empty golden eyes. He sat in a wheelchair. He was missing his right arm and left leg. He was broken.

But then I looked more closely at his eyes.

Fiery. Lively. Determined.

Startled, I looked back at Ed.

It was him, alright. Older, less broken, but it was definitely him. He was the boy.

But then. . .

How did he have his arm and leg?

I shook my head. Ed was a mystery, alright. One that was only getting bigger and more complex. . . and one I was determined to figure out.

Alles ist scheisse.

A little something I learned in Germany.

Actually, that's not true. All is not shit. . . yet. But I can tell everything's going to fall apart soon.

It's raining right now. My ports are aching. I miss Winry. I miss you. I'll find you. I'll come back, I promise. Okay? I'll be back as soon as possible. Wait for me.

Love, Ed

End of Chapter 1

Well? How did I do? This was a lot longer than my first chapters usually are, so yay! Be proud of me!~

If anyone feels like I made Ed too handsome, go die in a hole. Ed is beautiful. End of discussion.

Anywho, REVIEW! (Hehehehehehe. . . rhyme.) RFF, peeps! Without peeps RFFing, I do not update. When I do not update, a story ends. When a story ends, I cry. When I cry, the world cries. When the world cries, there are massive floods everywhere. When there are massive floods everywhere, peeps die. Don't let peeps die. RFF!~

Hehehe. . . isn't that like a Direct TV commercial? XD

The word of the day is SHOPAHOLIC! My best friend is a shopaholic! HAHAHA, I LIKE THIS WORD! YIPPEE!~

Ahem. Yes. I am insane. Thank you for noticing.

Love ya! lulu